Shanghai Story

  Shanghai Story

  A WWII Drama Trilogy Book One

  Alexa Kang

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Foreword by Roberta Kagan

  Preface

  1. Homecoming

  2. The Kuomintang

  3. Eden

  4. Street Performers

  5. A New Life in Shanghai

  6. Betrothal by Birth

  7. Clark’s Decision

  8. The Foreign Affairs Bureau

  9. Dinner at the Yuans’

  10. Guanxi

  11. No Good Deed

  12. Flags of the Nations

  13. Drug Raid

  14. An Afternoon at Cafe Louis

  15. The China Press

  16. Web of Corruption

  17. Madam Chiang Kai-shek

  18. A Banquet for the Wicked

  19. A Night at Paramount

  20. No Self

  21. Workers’ Uprising

  22. Blood Alley

  23. Journey to Kaifeng

  24. Lillian’s Birthday

  25. A Heinous Murder

  26. The Problem of Jurisdiction

  27. Suspect

  28. The Autumn Air Show

  29. A Nazi on Trial

  30. Quest for the Truth

  31. That Fateful Night

  32. Princelings of Shanghai

  33. Hitler’s Whore

  34. The Truth Revealed

  35. Rescuing Johann

  36. Shanghai Justice

  37. The Xian Incident

  38. Chinese New Year

  Coming Soon: Shanghai Dreams

  Afterword

  Subscribe for a free story

  Also by Alexa Kang

  Read More About Johann Hauser

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. The author has made every effort to ensure that major historical facts are accurate, but has taken some artistic license for fictional purposes. This book is not intended to be used as reference material and in no way should it be treated as an authority on any subject on any account.

  Foreword by Roberta Kagan

  When Alexa Kang asked me to write the Foreword for her new novel, Shanghai Story, I was genuinely touched. I knew that Shanghai Story was a book about China during the Second World War and that it addressed the treatment of Jewish refugees who had been scorned and persecuted by their own countries. More importantly, I also knew that this was a very important subject that is rarely addressed. The fact is that the Jewish people owe China their everlasting gratitude for the kindness the Chinese bestowed upon them during their darkest hour.

  However, one cannot realize the importance of the generosity of the Chinese toward the Jews during the Second World War without first addressing the treatment of Jews by the rest of the world during that same time period. It is now a well-known fact that Jews were in true peril under the boot of the Third Reich. Germany’s goal was to be judenfrei, “free of Jews.” In fact, they hated the Jewish people so much that they would later engage in systematic murder to eliminate them from the earth completely. However, in July of 1938, a conference was called in Evian-les-Bains, a town in France. Thirty-two countries, as well as delegates from relief organizations, were represented. The meeting was held because Germany was making life so difficult for its Jewish population. The Jews were looking to immigrate anywhere in order to escape the Nazi persecution. Yet, with the exception of the Dominican Republic, none of the countries present were willing to accept any Jewish refugees.

  Then in May of 1939, Hitler played a cruel trick on the desperate and very frightened Jewish people. For a hefty price, the Jews were allowed to board a luxury cruise ship called the MS St. Louis, which was a German vessel bound for Cuba. The captain, Gustav Schroder, demanded that his German crew treat the Jewish passengers with dignity and respect.

  The Cuban government had agreed to allow these poor souls to enter their country. However, as soon as the ship set sail, the Nazis began to infiltrate Cuba with negative propaganda about the Jews in order to assure that when the ship arrived the Jews would not be permitted to enter Cuba. The Nazis were successful in their efforts. For several weeks, the MS St. Louis sat outside the entrance to Cuba begging to be allowed to dock and for the passengers to disembark. This was not to happen. Finally, the ship was sent away.

  Schroder knew that if he took the passengers back to Nazi-occupied countries they would suffer terribly. So, in pure desperation, he began sending messages to several countries, begging them to take the Jewish refugees in. President Roosevelt of the United States of America never answered Schroder’s message. So Schroder sent another message to the President’s wife, Eleanore Roosevelt, begging her to at least admit the Jewish children. Again, there was no answer from America. The MS St. Louis wandered in the waters, looking for a safe haven until all of the food and water on board ran out. Something had to be done. Finally, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee posted a guarantee of $500,000 to cover any associated costs. Four countries—Belgium, France, Holland, and England—agreed to split the passengers. Some of the passengers were fortunate enough to be taken to England, but most ended up in countries that would later fall to the Nazis anyway and were eventually murdered in the Nazi death camps. After the war ended, Captain Schroder was honored in the Hall of the Righteous at Yad Vashem, the World Holocaust Remembrance Museum, in Israel for being a decent human being and for refusing to send the passengers on his ship back to a country where he knew they would be persecuted.

  But back to China. Despite all of the turmoil that China faced during the Second World War, including the horrific threat of a Japanese invasion that eventually occurred and brought China to her knees, the country was still willing to open her doors and accept the Jewish refugees. No impossible passports or underhanded entrance fees were required. China just generously opened her heart and her arms and welcomed the Jews who were at death’s door in Europe. Jewish communities flourished in China. While the Jews had lost the right to practice their trades under Nazi rule, China encouraged them to be a thriving part of Chinese society. Many, many Jews and their dependents owe their lives to the Chinese.

  Shanghai Story . . .

  Under the skillful pen of Ms. Kang, the reader is drawn into the world of prewar China with all of its danger and unrest. Historically accurate and well-researched, Shanghai Story makes the reader feel as if he or she has become a part of the rich and colorful Chinese culture. I found that, as the story developed, I was so wrapped up in the lives of the characters that I was getting up in the middle of the night just to read another chapter or two. I fell in love with the wonderful, cosmopolitan city of Shanghai. But most of all, I was engrossed in the magic of the beautiful and tender love story that Ms. Kang expertly wove into a living, breathing existence.

  So fasten your seatbelts, and get ready to travel back in time to the world of Shanghai on the eve of World War Two!

  Many Blessings to you,

  Roberta Kagan

  _________

  Roberta Kagan is the author of the popular Holocaust series All My Love, Detrick; Michal’s Destiny; and I Am Proud to be a Jew. You can visit her website at www.robertakagan.com.

  Preface

  Author’s Note on Language

  A challenge that came up in Shanghai Story is the inclusion of Chinese language in a story originally written in English. To provide my readers a fully immersive read and clarity, my editorial team and I have made choices that sometimes diverged
from consistencies and "rules” so that those who are not familiar with the Chinese language will have a good reading experience. Specifically:

  (i) Dialogues between Chinese characters have been written as closely as possible to how Chinese people actually speak, with inclusions of Chinese colloquialism to add authenticity. In some parts, the dialogues of Chinese characters may defy an English reader's expectation of how something would be said. Some parts might also come across a little bit odd. However, I can assure you these are not errors. I made a sincere effort to ensure that the dialogues would read smoothly and naturally to English readers, and also be true to how these dialogues would be spoken in Chinese.

  (ii) To adhere to authenticity, the use of honorifics was unavoidable. Chinese people often address others by honorifics instead of names. Simple salutation would not be enough, and depending on the person being addressed, salutation as used in English would also be wrong. My editorial team and I considered adding footnotes, but ultimately decided it would disrupt your reading experience. Therefore, I have decided instead to provide below a list of honorifics used in this book and their explanations.

  (iii) Finally, except for references to certain locations in Shanghai, I have chosen to apply pinyin for Romanization of Chinese names and words used in this story. For those who are not familiar with the pronunciation of pinyin, I hope this will help:

  "q" is pronounced "ch"

  “g” is pronounced like “g” in “gas”

  "x" is pronounced "sh"

  "c" is pronounced "ts", as in "bits"

  "zh" is pronounced like the Polish "cz"

  Honorifics:

  Ge: means older brother.

  Jie: means older sister.

  xiao jie: means Miss.

  Da xiao jie: means “first Miss.” Before and up to the pre-war era, servants addressed the daughters of the family they work for as “Miss.” When the family has more than one daughters, the servants would addressed the daughters by their birth order. “Da” means “biggest.” Da xiao jie means “first Miss.”

  Shifu: means driver.

  Amah: means “a mother” and was used to addressed a female servant, often one whose work involved childcare.

  Uncle, Aunt, Auntie: the honorifics are often used to address someone is a friend of one’s parents, as well as siblings of parents.

  Note also that Ge and Jie are often used to address someone who is not a blood relative, but who the speaker holds in higher regards. In such cases, “Ge” or “Jie” is always added to the first name (and occasionally the last name) of the person being addressed.

  I hope the above guide will enhance your reading experience. You can read more about the process of how Shanghai Story was created in the Afterword at the end of this book. And now, let’s begin this story and step back in time to the glamorous and treacherous world of Old Shanghai in 1936.

  1

  Homecoming

  The skyline of the Bund came into view as the steam liner SS President Coolidge pulled into the port on the Whangpoo River. On the fifth deck, Yuan Guo-Hui joined the rest of the first-class passengers by the door, waiting to disembark.

  Six years had passed since he had left his hometown of Shanghai to study in America, but the sight of the buildings lining the waterfront had not changed. From the Custom House with its clock tower built in imitation of Big Ben, to the Banque de l’Indochine with its iconic columns and arched gate, to the Sassoon House famed for being the first skyscraper in the Far East, to the Yokohama Specie Bank Building with the Japanese flag flying high on top. Every structure was just as he remembered it.

  Dominating them all was the Shanghai and Hong Kong Bank. Known for its neoclassic facade and marble interior, it had been called the most luxurious building from the Suez Canal to the Bering Strait. Its magnificent dome sat like a crown jewel at the center of the strip.

  “Mr. Yuan.” A ship attendant came up to him. “Everything is all set. I made all the arrangements myself. Your trunks will be delivered this afternoon to your home as soon as we dock.”

  “Thank you.” Guo-Hui put down his small suitcase, pulled out his wallet from his suit pocket, and placed a U.S. one dollar bill into the attendant’s hand.

  The attendant’s mouth fell agape. His eyes gleamed, and a smile spread across his face. “Thank you. Thank you very much, sir,” he repeated profusely and bowed his head before he walked away.

  Guo-Hui picked up his suitcase as the ship moved closer to shore and the junks rushed to get out of its way. A swell of excitement rose in his heart as he watched the sampans carrying fishermen riding out to the sea for the day’s catch. The voices of the passengers grew, their energy nearing burst as the vessel stopped and the ship’s exit opened for them to depart.

  “So long, Clark,” a man traveling with his wife and young son called out to him. It was the family from Philadelphia that stayed in the cabin next to him during the three weeks they were at sea. An insurance company had sent him here to take on a managerial role at their branch office in Shanghai.

  “Bye, Mr. Yuan,” their son said and waved. In the long hours of the afternoons on board the ship, Guo-Hui had taught the nine-year-old how to play chess.

  “Goodbye, Clark.” The wife picked up the boy’s hand. “Take good care.”

  “You too, ma’am.” Guo-Hui tipped his hat. Clark was the English name he’d adopted when he lived in America. The foreigners had such a hard time remembering his name. It was easier this way. Besides, he quite liked the name Clark. He took it from the actor Clark Gable. After years of being called ‘Clark,’ even he thought of himself more as Clark than Guo-Hui.

  The man shook his hand. “Come on by and see us. You know where we’ll be.”

  “I will.” Clark watched them step ahead out into their new world. He’d done the best he could to prepare them mentally for life in Shanghai, especially the wife. The poor woman had no idea how drastically her life was about to change. She was thrilled for a chance to escape the Depression and to live in an exotic country she’d only read about. She’d gushed that it would be an adventure of the lifetime. It would be that all right, only there would be many adventures that she wouldn’t find very pleasant, like the squat toilets.

  Slowly, Clark walked onto the platform off the ship. On the serene campus of Wesleyan University, how could he explain to his fellow classmates and professors what Shanghai was like? How could they imagine this scene? Crowds of men unloading piles and piles of cargo off clusters of boats gathered in utter disarray around the narrow wooden ramps. Hundreds of automobiles traversing up and down the avenue from every direction in no order whatsoever while masses of pedestrians crisscrossed the streets, seemingly without the slightest fear of being run over. There was nothing like this in America. Not even in New York City.

  And the noise! Once outside, a myriad of noises hit him. Shouts of laborers transporting loads of cotton and tea to the port for export overseas. Greetings of hawkers soliciting the hordes boarding and disembarking ships, and the honks of trucks and rings of bicycles weaving through, driving them to scatter away. One of the trucks nearly hit a rickshaw crossing its way. The truck driver yelled out the window, and the rickshaw coolie cursed him back.

  “Ge!” The crisp voice of a young woman cut through the crowd. “Ge! Over here!”

  Clark turned to the direction of the voice. His sister Wen-Ying, two years his junior, was waving at him. With her was another young lady dressed in a Western-style white blouse and a blue skirt. Was that Wen-Li? His youngest sister? He could hardly believe his eyes even though his family had sent him photos over the years. She was only eleven when he left for the States.

  “Wen-Ying!” He hurried over to them. “Mei Mei? You’re Mei Mei?” His family had always called Wen-Li “Mei Mei,” an endearing term meaning little sister, because she was the youngest. “Let me look at you. You’re all grown up!”

  “Every day, I think of you.” Mei Mei’s face brightened with a big smile. She looked so mu
ch like their mother, with her oval face, phoenix eyes, and dainty cherry lips.

  “Not only all grown up, but also the school flower.” Wen-Ying threw her a teasing look. A school flower was an honorary title that students gave to the most beautiful girl in their school.

  Mei Mei pouted. The braids running down her neck swung as she turned her face. “You’re making fun of me.”

  Clark chuckled. He took a good look at Wen-Ying. In her white floral-patterned qipao with her hair parted to one side in finger waves, she looked every bit like a proper young lady from a well-reputed family. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” he told his other sister.

  “No need to flatter me. I look like father. Beauty—Mei Mei can have all of it.” She threw their little sister another glance, this time with indulgence and adoration. It was true. Their mother was a known beauty in her younger days. People always told their father how fortunate he was to have married such a good-looking wife.

  “Young Master!” A man in a dark gray Chinese tunic suit joined them.