Evening star., 1941-11-15
Third OF q Series.)
BY LELAND STOWE.


RUNNING. South China by
Clipper Luckily my hair was
white before we started. How the
Burma road truck drivers still have
black hair is a mystery to me. The
trouble with almost all kinds of
writing folks is that they've got too
much imagination-even reporters,
who develop a high regard for facts
But the esteem that this particular
reporter has for facts is nothing
beside his respect for mountain
highways. Greek or Chinese or what
have you. He not only has respect
for precipice curves, He is passion
ately devoted to the aWe-inspiring
things-so devoted that he never
wants to leave them, except in polite
fashion.
Well, it wasn't so bad the first
and second day. Then the old
Burma road began to strut her
stuff the third day, and on the
fourth she simply arched her back
like broncho and kicked up her
heels. She was considerate enough
to kick the V-8 station wagon that
wasn't carrying the Quaker Red
Cross man and myself, and she
didn't kick as hard as she might
have. Just enough to instill a proper
amount of respect. If she'd known
that certain mountainous Greek
roadbeds had treated me consider
ably worse no telling what might
have happened.
Leave PaOshan in Rain.
We were off from Paoshan on the
third day, after it had rained most
of the night and still was raining
Until then the road had been thick
with dust. A few hours of rain is
enough to spread thick chocolate
frosting over the fine, rock-packed
roadbed of the Burma -Yunnan
highway We found that out very
fast. about the time We left that
opulent broad Paoshan Valley with
its thriving rice paddles and farms,
squeezed through a pass and start
ed another 3.000-foot slither toward
the Mekong River. Serpenting
around and downward, the going
was very sloshy. What would it
be like in the middle of the rainy
season? Right now this is sup
posed to be what they call the dry
season.
The rain keeps drizzling, and
mist and fog shutter out the entire
gorge below us. They wrap a thick
-
opposite US. too. Here's an aban-
doned truck, caught precisely on
the middle of its belly, with its
front end teetering above what
would have been 300-foot plunge
Wonder how the driver felt crawl
ing out? No. thank you. Not in
terested. Don't want to know.
They've got to bring scores of mil
lions of dollars worth of American
lease-lend war materials over this
road. It's going to take ire
mendous lot of determination and
organization to do it.
We see one of the reasons why
it's going to be done. Chinese Ia
borers, men and women, are work.
ing tirelessly to repair the surfac-
ing We pass little groups of them
every mile or so. Only their heads
and shoulders are protected by their
basket-woven, umbrellalike hats.
Otherwise their shabby garments
are soaked, but soaked to the skin
they labor on. They will do that
the year round for a few cents a
day. If the Burma road has its
greed and its scandals these COM
mon men and women-and often
children-are big part of its glory,
and the glory is great.
Overtake Earlier Convoy.
Here's a big convoy ahead of us,
going in just as we are. Rowlands
recognizes a missionary and his
wife. who have places on one of the
lorries. Their caravan left Lashio
about eight days ago, and we. in
our fast station wagons, have been
travelling only two days and half.
That gives us an idea about what
doing the road the rough way really
means, and also about the amount
of time physical obstacles. customs
and provincial tax collections and
various control operations can con-
sumo before a single convoy covers
the 750-mile course to Running.
Now we're down under the mistS
and eventually speeding along some
miles of fiat going until our car is
out on the great Kungko Suspension
Bridge, and we find it shimmies Just
like the other one did. Then an
other 3,700-foot climb, the biggest
on the road, and all within the
space Of 10 miles. 1t takes a lot OF
corkscrew twisting and hairpins to
accomplish that. We're stuck In
the rain for an hour. Peter Row.
lands cleans the sparkplugs and
performs other mysterious deeds
and saves us from a night on that
lonely mountain. When we start
down the other side at last oul
tires simply sing through juicy mud
We left a dozen trucks behind III
before we reach the crest, but tr
late afternoon there are bound tt
be others coming around these
ceaseless turns. The roadbed Is st
juicy it seems that bobsleds woule
actually gain more than enough
momentum on this slithery slime