Yang Huafeng, born in 1933 in Linkou county of northeastern China's Heilongjiang province, is a veteran of the Chinese People's War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression (1931-45). During his childhood in the shadow of war, a legend from his hometown left an enduring mark on his mind.

Yang Huafeng, a veteran of the Chinese People's War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression. [Photo by Wang Xingguang/China.org.cn]

The story he grew up hearing was one about the Northeast United Resistance Army, a force formed in northeastern China led by the Communist Party of China after the region became the first to be invaded by Japanese military forces in 1931. In a battle in 1938, eight young female soldiers of the Army were tasked with covering the retreat of their comrades in the county where Yang lived. Surrounded by Japanese troops and running out of ammunition, the women chose to leap into the icy waters of the Wusihun River, sacrificing their lives rather than being captured. 

Their heroic sacrifice, which enabled the main force to escape, spread across the country and inspired countless Chinese to persevere in the fight for national survival.

The story of the eight heroines planted the first seed of resistance in Yang's heart. But it was not until a personal tragedy struck him at the age of 9 that the war's brutality was etched into his life. One day, on their way back home after picking vegetables in their family fields, Yang and his mother noticed smoke rising not far away.

"It looks like our house is on fire," Yang's mother exclaimed, handing him the basket of vegetables before rushing back home. As Yang hurried after her, he arrived just in time to see Japanese soldiers strike his mother on the head with a rifle butt, knocking her to the ground. He dropped the basket and fled in terror, only surviving thanks to a neighbor who quickly dragged him into the house next door.

When Yang was 11, his father was seized by Japanese troops and forced into hard labor to build barracks and bunkers. During a break, the Japanese ordered the laborers to sing the national anthem of "Manchukuo," the puppet regime established by Japan in northeastern China. But Yang's father, who was deaf and illiterate, did not know the lyrics and remained silent. 

Then a soldier dragged him out, demanding: "Who are you?"

"I am Chinese," Yang's father answered simply.

The reply brought a savage beating. Left by the roadside, he was later carried home by a villager, but died from his injuries within days.

The loss of his father left Yang an orphan. Yet in the following year, as battles raged closer to his hometown, he saw a chance for revenge. In 1945, several hundred soldiers from the Northeast United Resistance Army, joined by more than 1,000 Soviet troops, swept into his county, destroying Japanese barracks and wiping out enemy strongholds.

Drawn to the unit, Yang began following the troops — feeding and watering their horses, and running errands to buy fodder and supplies. He was eager to help in any way he could.

"You follow us every day, little one," the captain of the troops asked. "Why don't you stay at home?"

"I have no home. You've avenged my father and mother. I am grateful to you," Yang said.

The soldiers were moved. "If you have no home, then stay with us," they told him.

From that day on, Yang formally joined the unit, where he was trained in grenade throwing, marksmanship, and other combat skills.

Now 92, Yang Huafeng still clearly remembers the first battle in which he fought and won recognition.

It was in a battle to attack a Japanese stronghold in a town across the river near Yang's hometown. The troops had planned to reach it via the main road, the usual route. However, as a local familiar with the terrain, Yang showed them a shorter mountain path.

Guided by him, the unit quickly crossed the ridge, beyond which the Japanese stronghold was located. With artillery support, they launched the attack and eliminated 400-500 enemy soldiers. From then on, Yang accompanied the troops from battle to battle.

Too young for the front line, Yang was often ordered to stay back in a mountain ravine to watch the fighting unfold. When the battles ended, his task was to help secure the battlefield.

It all came to an end in August 1945. Yang still remembers the moment the Japanese surrendered with white flags. People in his hometown, men and women alike, poured into the streets, cheering: "We are Chinese now! Japan has surrendered!"

"From that moment on, we are truly Chinese," Yang said.