A Call to Arms: Answering the Nation’s Summons

In the summer of 1962, as geopolitical tensions simmered along the Himalayan border, a unique call to service echoed through Beijing’s high schools. The Tibet Military Command had issued a recruitment appeal for educated youth to join a special mission—to learn foreign languages and contribute to border defense efforts. Among the respondents was Tuo Wenhan, a 19-year-old student from Hebei Beijing Middle School, who received his enlistment notice on his birthday, July 10. He would become one of one hundred students selected from dozens of schools across Beijing’s East and West districts. Most were graduating seniors, though a few exceptional younger students like Tuo were also chosen.

This was a generation raised on the principle that “outstanding children aspire to serve anywhere in the motherland.” Despite knowing almost nothing about Tibet or the realities of military life, these young men were driven by idealism and patriotism. Cheng Zhiming, then 18 and preparing for university entrance exams, recalled that nearly 90 percent of his classmates volunteered when the recruitment notice arrived. After rigorous physical and political screenings, the one hundred most promising students were selected, each feeling a profound sense of honor.

Preparation and Parting: From Classroom to Barracks

The selected student-soldiers were briefly received in Beijing by General Zhang Guohua, Commander of the Tibet Military Region, who was coincidentally in the capital at the time. He encouraged them to brace for hardship and assured them that great responsibilities lay ahead. The young recruits, brimming with enthusiasm, could scarcely imagine that they would spend the next decade or more on the frontier—let alone that they would soon be thrust into actual combat.

On July 13, 1962, amid emotional farewells from family and friends, the student-soldiers boarded a train leaving Beijing. They arrived in Lanzhou around July 16, where they underwent basic military drills and studied Tibetan ethnic policies and traditions. On August 17, they continued westward by train to Hongliuyuan in Gansu, then transferred to Dodge military trucks for the arduous overland journey into Tibet.

As the trucks climbed toward the Tanggula Mountains, the high altitude took a brutal toll. Many suffered acute mountain sickness—some fainted, others foamed at the mouth. Huo Wenwu, a recent graduate of Beijing No. 5 Middle School, could not eat a single bite for days after crossing the Kunlun Pass. Even today, his fellow veterans joke that he never regained the weight.

Arrival in the Roof of the World

On September 4, after two months of arduous travel, the students finally reached Lhasa. It was late afternoon, and the Potala Palace glowed golden in the setting sun. The majestic sight instantly lifted their spirits; many raised their arms and cheered, feeling that a new chapter of their lives had begun.

But the anticipated language training never materialized. Instead, the new recruits underwent political study and military drills as border tensions with India escalated. Indian troops had established forward positions and attacked Chinese outposts. In October, after Indian forces crossed the Kejielang River and killed several Chinese soldiers, morale among the troops surged. The student-soldiers, among the most educated personnel in the Tibet Military Region, were deemed too valuable to leave behind—leadership decided they would learn through lived experience.

From Students to Soldiers: The Shock of War

There was no time to adjust. One mid-October evening, the student-soldiers were dispersed among various combat units and loaded into troop transports passing through western Lhasa. They had no opportunity to inform their families in Beijing that they were heading to the front. For three months, military secrecy prevented any communication home.

Remarkably, these young men had never received firearms training. They had held rifles only once—as props in a group photo. Their first real encounter with the grim reality of war came at the Mama transfer station, where stacks of empty coffins were piled like hills, prepared for the anticipated casualties. Yang Zhanyong, then 19, never forgot the visceral shock: “My head buzzed… I wondered, is one of those for me?”

The Battle of Kejielang: Grit and Sacrifice

The Kejielang area, located west of the eastern sector of the Sino-Indian border and north of the McMahon Line, became the focal point of conflict. Indian troops occupied the south bank of the Kejielang River; Chinese forces held the north. With no roads leading to the forward positions, all supplies—including artillery shells—had to be carried up steep slopes by soldiers and mules. Each round trip took six hours.

Tuo Wenhan later recounted the almost superhuman effort to transport 120mm mortars through dense forests and marshland. Each mortar base weighed hundreds of pounds, and a single shell weighed 47 pounds. Soldiers’ shoulders were rubbed raw, their shirts fusing to their wounds. Without these heavy weapons, firepower would have been drastically reduced.

Even more impressive were the Tibetan civilian porters, who carried astonishing loads—men shouldering two 120mm shells, plus two 82mm shells around their necks, and two 60mm shells in their hands; women carrying two 50-pound sacks of flour. Their contribution was vital to the operation.

The Dawn Assault: Baptism by Fire

On the night of October 19, Chinese forces moved into position. Two 120mm mortar companies and two 82mm mortar companies were deployed on high ground, while infantry units crept down to the north bank of the river, concealed by thick virgin forest. Tuo Wenhan, assigned as a messenger for his platoon leader, carried a semi-automatic rifle and 200 rounds of ammunition. The entire force maintained absolute silence despite being mere meters from the Indian 7th Brigade camp.

At 7:30 a.m. on October 20, as Indian cooks were lighting fires for breakfast, Chinese artillery erupted in a sudden, devastating barrage. The Battle of Kejielang had begun. Huo Wenwu, assigned to an 82mm mortar company, was tasked with fitting fuses and propellant charges to shells. With only minimal training, he worked under intense pressure as his unit was ordered to fire 90 rounds in nine minutes—an extraordinary rate of fire.

Cultural and Social Impacts: A Generation Transformed

The experiences of these student-soldiers reflect a broader narrative of patriotic mobilization during the early years of the People’s Republic. Educated urban youth were encouraged to “go where the motherland needs you most,” often venturing into remote regions with little preparation. Their story underscores the complex interplay between state ideology and individual sacrifice.

These young men brought literacy, critical thinking, and technical potential to the military—assets highly valued in modern warfare. Yet they also faced a steep and traumatic learning curve. Their transition from classroom to battlefield illustrates the suddenness with which ordinary lives can be overtaken by historical forces.

The Tibetan porters’ role highlights often-overlooked civilian contributions to military operations. Their strength and resilience not only enabled logistical success but also symbolized the multi-ethnic cooperation that the state promoted—even amid the harsh realities of war.

Legacy and Modern Relevance

The Kejielang campaign proved a swift and decisive victory for China, leading to a unilateral ceasefire and withdrawal in November 1962. For the student-soldiers, however, the war was only the beginning of long careers on the frontier. Many spent decades in Tibet, contributing to regional stability and development.

Their story remains relevant today as a testament to the idealism and resilience of youth thrust into extraordinary circumstances. It also serves as a reminder of the human cost of border conflicts—an issue that continues to resonate in contemporary geopolitics.

In later years, veterans like Tuo Wenhan, Cheng Zhiming, and Huo Wenwu would recall their service with a mixture of pride and sober reflection. They had gone forth with “hearts full of fervor,” unprepared for the horrors and hardships they would face, yet they endured and overcame. Their journey—from Beijing classrooms to Himalayan battlefields—stands as a powerful chapter in the larger history of China’s mid-20th-century transformations.