Yung-an

While waiting for communications to open for my return to America on furlough, I made the trip to Yung-an by boat and bus. The last lap of the journey was made by ricksha out into the country from Yung-an....Though they had been here in Yung-an only a few weeks, they welcomed me as old members of the institution, and led me to Prof. Lee's bungalow, where my older pupil, Laurence Lee, and his wife were waiting for me.

1948 February, Albert Faurot, “New Music for an Ancient Land”, in The Etude, volume LXVI, number 2, →OCLC, page 112

Many coastal Chinese had fled to Yung-an, and my father was able to hire a Foochow chef, who prepared food that was considered the best of any U.S. outpost in that part of China. He ran his outfit at night. This involved interception of longwave Japanese radio messages from the coast, and the relay of intelligence to Chungking. He also oversaw a team of translators who turned out a Chinese version of U.S. propaganda for distribution to local Chinese newspapers situated throughout southwest China. He was a night owl by nature. “ ‘Early to rise, early to bed, makes a man poor, foolish and dead’ is my preferred version of that particular adage,” my father once wrote.¹³ In Yung-an, he worked at night, and took naps during the day. He slept in a bedroll, fully clothed, the way the Chinese did, to stay warm. He roamed the local hills by himself, but he was not without companionship when he wanted it. He ate with Chinese friends in the local chop shops when he went to town and made use of the local bathhouse.

1995, Peter Rand, China Hands, Simon & Schuster, →ISBN, →LCCN, →OCLC, page 269