Sunset

From dusty Nanking streets, sleek limousines converged on a plain brick residence in the spacious Ministry of National Defense compound. It was Friday afternoon; by 2 o'clock Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek's small drawing room was jammed with ranking Kuomintang officials. Tense and silent, they waited for the announcement.

Clad in a simple khaki uniform without insignia, China's Commander in Chief and President rose to his feet from a sofa in the corner of the room. Slowly, without show of emotion, he made the announcement that all had expected: he would leave Nanking and go to his native home. Then in his choppy Ningpo accent he read from a formal statement:

"With the hope that hostilities may be brought to an end and the people's suffering relieved, I have decided to retire . . . Vice President Li Tsung-jen will exercise the duties and powers of President . . ."When he finished, 61-year-old Chiang asked for comments, not on his decision, but on the phrasing of his statement.

A moment of silence was shattered by protests from Kuomintang right-wingers, some of whom, like Chiang and Li, were on the Communist war criminal list. They objected to the use of "yin tut" (voluntary retirement), a classical Chinese phrase used by retiring officials leaving active duty for good. He could vacation; he could take a leave of absence; President Chiang Kai-shek should not "yin tui." But the Gimo was adamant; his statement would stand.

A Problem Solved. As other visitors began to arrive--officials from Shanghai, old friends--Chiang retired to a small guest room. He saw them one by one, if only for a moment, bidding each farewell. After an hour he excused himself and changed into the long blue gown and black jacket traditional of the Chinese gentleman. Outside, it was a clear and unusually warm winter day. As the Gimo stepped into his big, black Cadillac bearing No. 1 on its license plates, the sun was low in the west.

At the military airport outside the city the twin-engined Mei-Ling (named after Madame Chiang) dropped to earth after the short hop from within the city wall where Nanking's officialdom had gathered to see him off. Chiang said quick goodbyes to Vice President Li, Cabinet Minister Chang Chun and several others who had anticipated his moves correctly. Then he climbed aboard the plane and pulled the door shut himself. The Mei-Ling thundered down its runway at 4:15, climbed and circled Purple Mountain where the white stone of Sun Yat-sen's vast mausoleum reflected the last rays of the setting sun.

At Hangchow airport, about an hour and a half later, Formosa's Governor Chen Cheng and Chen Yi, governor of Chiang's native Chekiang Province, were among a small group of officials who watched the Gimo's plane land. Following greetings, Chiang and his friends banqueted on fried shrimp, stuffed chicken and mandarin fish with sweet and sour sauce at Hangchow's famed Lou Wai Restaurant. Said one of the guests: "The Generalissimo seemed calm and relaxed--like one who has solved a great problem and is content."

A Long Night. Next day, after an early morning flight to Ningpo's carefully guarded airport, Chiang bounced and jostled by auto over a one-lane dirt road some 40 miles to Fenghwa, his home town, in the knob-topped Sze Ming Mountains. Nestled on a pine and laurel-covered slope is the Gimo's one-story, four-room retreat. A few feet up the slope is a wood and stone arch inscribed with the legend: "Road to Mother Chiang's Tomb." Through it passes a wide-stepped pebble and flagstone walk.

Chiang ascended the steps and went immediately to his mother's grave, a simple mound of grass-covered earth surrounded by a wall of brown sandstone, where he meditated for 20 minutes. He then turned, entered his retreat and was not seen again until Sunday morning when he joined his son, Chiang Ching-kuo, and four grandchildren for a walk in immaculate Wu Ling Park. Later he attended Christian services with high-school students.

After church, Chiang returned to his hillside retreat. Strict orders enforced by his aides protected him from even his oldest and most faithful followers. Meanwhile, growing piles of firewood at the foot of his hillside indicate he is planning to stay a while. Commented a local policeman: "In history this is but a moment, but to China it is a long night."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.