Victory by the Lakes

In the eastern suburbs of the city, coolies toiled on two mass tombs. Ashes and bodies of thousands of unknown invaders would rest there. In the northern and eastern suburbs torn and twisted Japanese corpses were being piled in neat heaps of 15 to 70 bodies each.

To the north, the remnants of an enemy expeditionary force of 100,000 slogged their way through the clinging goo of winter-flooded rice paddy fields as fast as heavy legs could take them. But they had a long way to go before they could reach the protection of their own artillery stalled along the Milo river.

The fourth Changsha campaign had ended in a smacking, resounding Chinese victory. The entire Japanese XI Army Corps had been involved. Once and for all the Japanese had tried to wipe out the Chinese threat along the mid-China chain of lakes; and they had failed. They had caused considerable damage--had reduced most of the buildings of Yale-in-China to a soot-blackened monument of U.S. mission enterprise--but they had been chased away in no-uncertain fashion.

Partly it was rain that upset their calculations, miring them in hub-deep, sucking mud. But mostly they had failed because they were faced by the only troops in Asia who could match them in war-wrung experience. They themselves had taught these Chinese veterans how to snuggle against protecting hills, how to gauge ranges and rations, how to hold out hopelessly or attack desperately and win.

The Chinese press, with too-human jubilation, rose to the occasion, helped a good story along. It boasted at first of 52,000 Japanese casualties. Later the military spokesman pared this to 30,000 casualties. At the front, the tough men of battle told correspondents they had nicked the enemy for only 21,000. Among themselves, Chinese had learned to discount their press ta hua--big talk. They did not realize that Americans, unused to Chinese newspaper ways, were accepting Chungking statements at face value, that editorialists were using every sliver of American bright news from the dark Orient as an editorial springboard.

Last week, from Chungking, Chinese reported sallies of their forces into the suburbs of Canton and Nanchang, long held by the Japanese. These were not harbingers of a final Chinese victory drive. But they were evidences that the Chinese Army was flexing its muscles and preparing for the day.

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