The Making of a Revolutionary Hero

In the frozen forests of northeastern China during the winter of 1936, a declaration echoed through the snow-covered trees that would come to symbolize one of the most remarkable resistance movements against Japanese occupation. The man at the center of this struggle, Yang Jingyu, stood an imposing 1.93 meters tall, spoke fluent northeastern dialect, and carried within him an unbreakable revolutionary spirit that would make him a legend.

Born Ma Shangde on February 13, 1905, in a poor village in Henan province, Yang’s early life gave little indication of the military leader he would become. Orphaned at a young age, he demonstrated academic promise that led him to the Henan Provincial Kaifeng Textile and Dyeing Industrial School in 1923. Like many idealistic youth of his generation, Yang became involved in revolutionary activities, joining the Communist Youth League in 1926. His early revolutionary work focused not on military strategy but on organizing peasant movements, successfully mobilizing over 10,000 farmers in his home county by 1927.

From Peasant Organizer to Guerrilla Commander

Yang’s transformation from peasant organizer to military leader began in 1929 when the Communist Party sent him to northeast China under the alias Zhang Guanyi. Working initially to establish party cells in the Fushun coal mines, Yang’s leadership skills and resilience became evident through his five arrests and subsequent torture by Japanese and collaborationist forces—none of which broke his spirit.

The Japanese invasion of Manchuria in 1931 created the conditions for Yang’s military emergence. After the official Northeastern Army withdrew under orders not to resist, various resistance groups collectively known as the Northeast Anti-Japanese Volunteer Army sprang up across the region. However, lacking coordination and unified command, these groups proved vulnerable to Japanese suppression. By 1933, the volunteer movement had largely disintegrated.

Recognizing the need for organized resistance, the Chinese Communist Party established the Northeast People’s Revolutionary Army in 1933, with Yang Jingyu appointed as commander and political commissar of its First Army Independent Division. This formation would evolve into the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army in 1935, with Yang leading the First Army. His adoption of the name “Jingyu”—meaning “to pacify the nation” in Korean—symbolized his commitment to driving out foreign invaders.

The “Cancer” That Plagued Japanese Forces

Yang’s guerrilla tactics made him Japan’s most formidable opponent in Manchuria. Japanese military records referred to areas under his control as “cancer zones” and labeled Yang himself “the cancer of public order in the Eastern Provinces.” The contrast between Yang’s methods and previous resistance efforts was stark—where earlier groups had relied on conventional tactics, Yang mastered mobile warfare, applying principles of “when the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy is disordered, we attack.”

Japanese statistics reveal the staggering impact of Yang’s operations: 39,105 engagements in 1935 alone, with nearly 70,000 total actions by 1940. These operations accounted for an estimated 180,000 Japanese casualties—a figure that excludes Soviet military achievements in the region. At its peak in 1941, Yang’s forces tied down 760,000 Japanese troops who might otherwise have been deployed elsewhere in China or the Pacific.

The Japanese response grew increasingly desperate. By 1938, they had committed 60,000 troops specifically to eliminate Yang, with orders to ignore other resistance groups and focus solely on his forces. Their strategy evolved to include three devastating elements: establishing controlled settlements to isolate guerrillas from civilian support, relentless pursuit tactics to force constant dispersion of Yang’s forces, and aggressive recruitment of defectors through incentives and coercion.

The Betrayals That Sealed His Fate

The Japanese strategy of cultivating defectors proved particularly effective—and devastating. In July 1938, Cheng Bin, one of Yang’s most trusted commanders known as “Little Yang Jingyu,” surrendered with 115 troops after the Japanese captured his mother. Cheng’s intimate knowledge of Yang’s tactics and secret supply bases (known as “miying”) allowed the Japanese to systematically destroy over 70 of these vital camps in Mengjiang County, cutting off Yang’s access to food, weapons, and medical supplies.

Further betrayals followed in 1940. In January, Yang’s guard brigade staff officer Ding Shoulong defected, revealing Yang’s positions. On February 1, Zhang Xiufeng, a guard Yang had raised like a son, absconded with funds and critical intelligence about Yang’s planned escape routes. By mid-February, Yang found himself alone in the wilderness, his forces decimated by cold, hunger, and relentless pursuit.

The final betrayal came on February 22, 1940, when Zhao Tingxi, a collaborationist soldier posing as a woodcutter, encountered the starving, frostbitten Yang. When Zhao suggested surrender, Yang famously replied: “I am Chinese! I cannot do such things. If all Chinese surrender, then China is finished!” Zhao reported Yang’s location, leading to his final confrontation with Japanese forces the following day.

The Last Stand of a Legend

Historical accounts from both Japanese and collaborationist sources document Yang’s final hours with remarkable consistency. Surrounded by enemy forces on February 23, 1940, Yang engaged in a desperate gun battle after refusing surrender offers. Even after being wounded in the right arm, he continued fighting with his left until a fatal bullet struck his chest—reportedly fired by another former comrade turned collaborator.

The Japanese, astonished by Yang’s ability to survive weeks in subzero temperatures without supplies, conducted an autopsy that revealed only undigested cotton, straw, and tree bark in his stomach. Among his few possessions they found a harmonica—a poignant reminder of the humanity that persisted even in the harshest conditions. Former comrades who had defected reportedly wept upon seeing it, remembering how Yang would play for his troops during rare moments of rest.

Legacy of the Unvanquished

Yang Jingyu’s death marked the end of an era but not the end of his legacy. In 1945, former Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army members returned as part of Soviet operations against Japan, parachuting behind enemy lines to help liberate their homeland. Though Yang did not live to see victory, his example endured as a symbol of resistance against impossible odds.

The Japanese officer who oversaw Yang’s pursuit, Kishi Tani, later committed ritual suicide in 1945, leaving behind reported writings that acknowledged: “Perhaps the Emperor’s decision to invade China was incorrect. A nation with soldiers like Yang Jingyu will never perish.” While the authenticity of this statement remains debated, its sentiment reflects the profound impact Yang had even on his enemies.

Today, Yang is remembered not by military rank—he never received formal commission—but by the honorific “General” bestowed by history and the Chinese people. His story transcends political divisions, standing as testament to the courage of all who resisted occupation regardless of affiliation. The county where he fell now bears his name—Jingyu County—ensuring that future generations remember the price paid for their freedom.

In a world where military achievements are often measured in medals and promotions, Yang Jingyu’s legacy reminds us that true heroism lies not in recognition received, but in principles upheld—even at the cost of everything.