pollution in China, bloodiest and most terrible of all. An entire civilization blown apart. There are 700 million Chinese today, one quarter of the human race, and they are taught to hate. Their growing power is the world's greatest threat to peace and life. Fifty years of torment bred madness. To deal with madness, we must understand its roots. See China's revolution through the eyes of those who were there. For seven pivotal years, author historian Theodore White lived in China, knew the men who now control her destiny. With him, we shall look back at a century of tragedy. We of the West have been excluded from China. We can pace along this barbed wire border at Hong Kong and try to squint inside or strain out sounds. But all we hear is echo of disaster, past and present. When we ask why, there is no other book of answers but the history of this century. For both of us, Chinese and Westerners, have shared the blunders that transformed our greatest friend in Asia into our greatest enemy. Theodore H. White recalled, Those of us who lived in China in the crisis decade remember it all so differently. So close they were in friendship to us. Fingertip close. And now their fists are bald in anger. They were looking for some entry into the modern world. And nothing in their ancient culture could give them any guide to the turbulence they found. Now could we help them? It was a quest, a 50-year search for some new kind of government, some new form of order. And in the end they moved from tyranny to tyranny. From the tyranny of Confucius and the Manchu emperors to the tyranny of communism and Mao. And in between, we have only fitful glimpses of what happened, snatches of photography so tantalizingly incomplete to explain what happened. It all began in mystery and goes on today in mystery. For 2,000 years we tried to read this Chinese mystery, but read it for a book of myths. And trancing age-old myths brought back by travelers from beyond the mountain walls of Asia, where they had found a land of changeless wonders. A strange serenity of spirit graced its hills with beauties. Bridges arched across the rivers as much to soothe the eye as helped the Wayfarer. The silent shriek of violence in art might catch attention, but that was echo of an anger we did not fathom. The same mythical serenity rested on all the fields of this land of peasants, a biblical rhythm carrying men from sowing to harvest, from birth to death in apparent contentment. The old myth held that China had solved the great secret of government. Confucius, half god, half sage, had taught order and duty. These make government. Each man fixed in place, bound in obedience to those above, as those above were bound in obedience to the will of heaven. The emperor they called the son of heaven, Tianzi, because only he interpreted the will of heaven in his land. For 1,500 miles ran the Great Wall, sealing in a nation so proud it knew itself only as Zhongguo, the central kingdom. All other men, barbarians. For 2,000 years behind this wall, proud China knew herself invulnerable. For centuries, China let barbarian westerners dock only at Canton to buy her precious silks, her porcelain, her tea. To pay for these, Englishmen introduced opium from India. By 1830, this trade was booming. China protested, burned the opium, and the bark of English warships as war broke out in 1839, first shattered myths of Chinese power. The result? Defeat. Disaster. A board of British warship in 1842 came humiliation, with China forced by treaty to yield Hong Kong outright and open four more coastal cities to British merchants and their opium. Where Britain led, others followed. Rival powers raced each other to carve proud China as spoils. English, French, Americans, Germans, Russians demanded privileges, colonies, concessions. In 60 years had won the right to govern, try, punish Chinese in their own land. In China's capital, Peking, where from these ancient altars countless emperors had sought the mandate of heaven, the myth of heavenly rule persisted still. But deep within the palaces where China's Manchu emperors reigned, by 1900, that myth too was dead. For here ruled China's evil spirit. The Empress Dowager Zhou Xi, a Manchu concubine, bedmate to an emperor for whom she had produced an heir.   Chief among them, eunuch Li Lianying has depraved as she. When told China needed ships to fight the foreigners, they used naval appropriations to build a marble pleasure boat in a nearby lake. Only one conviction bound her to her people, hatred of the contemptuous foreigner who tramped her land. A thousand villages deep in China mirrored her primitive hatred of the foreign devil. Moreover, their passions had found flag and leaders, as a secret brotherhood the boxers began to flourish.  With the Empress' consent, in early 1900, they began to kill. One of America's Greek novelists, then a missionary child, was at the time in China. Miss Pearl Buck recalls, The Empress Dowager had issued an edict that all white people were to be killed. And many had been killed, especially in the north in Shandong, where men, women and children, missionaries and business people too, had been killed. But we were so fortunate because we lived in the province of Jiangsu, and we had a very good viceroy, an intelligent man. And he knew that it was folly for the old empress to think that she could gain anything by killing the missionaries and the business people because there would be a terrible retribution. And so he was so courageous as to insert a negative, a no, a not, into the imperial edict, so that it read, we were not to be killed. And that's what saved our lives. Here at Peking, within these massive walls, for almost two months, 3,000 foreigners and Christian converts gathered under siege to fight for life. Their sandbagged embassies of bastion against boxer fanatics. From around the world, navies rushed troops to raise the siege. Britons, Americans, Russians, French, Germans, Japanese, raced with field guns and modern rifles, whose bullets no boxer magic could resist. Victory was swift, punishment ruthless. North to south, foreign force patrolled the country. Japanese soldiers began to explore China's wealth and covet more. In the shadow of Peking's mighty ramparts, American soldiers tasted war on Asia's mainland for the first time and froliced, China forever humbled. Foreign diplomats and generals debated China's fate. This land of endless villages, crowding each other against the skyline, was it really a nation or only a geographical expression? These peasants was their recent outburst of passion, of passing madness or something deeper. Their government smashed, still they toiled as they had for centuries, in the three great river valleys falling from the heights of Central Asia to shape their country. In the north, Manchuria and the valley of the Yellow River cradled one kind of Chinese for home Peking, the Manchu capital was their center. Here, dry northern wheatlands rolled over an unknown treasure store of minerals which Russia and Japan both sought. In the center, the valley of the mighty Yangtze with its key cities, Shanghai, Nanking, Hangkou, Zhongqing, where British and American power turned the wheels of industry, oiled the way of commerce. In the south, the third valley, the west river flowing by Canton to empty at Hong Kong in the sea. In the steaming Southland, peasants stooped in patties to plant rice and spoke a dialect no Peking Chinese could even faintly comprehend. The coastal cities where most Westerners lived squirmed with jostling people, animal energy, humans used as beasts in street and field. Most still war pigtails forced on them a symbol of submission to the Manchu dynasty and its son of heaven. But within the old forbidden city, there was no government, no son of heaven. The aging Empress Dowager, her spirit broken by the Boxer War, lingered dying until 1908. And then, for all intents and purposes, the throne was empty, save for an infant of three years installed to sit in it. And then it vanished. Simply vanished. The Manchu dynasty disappeared overnight. Nothing like this has ever happened in all history. 2000 years of tradition, the whole structure of the imperial Confucian political thought dissolving to dust. The Chinese give it a name and a date. They call it Shuangshu, double ten. The date being October 10, 1911, when a riot occurred in the Yanxi Valley which they couldn't suppress and five weeks later. The regime had disappeared. The dynasty overthrown never to reappear again in history. And out of this turbulence, there emerge two types of Asian leader, arch symbols, the man of guns and the man of ideas. And these two types, the gunman and the dreamer, have perplexed all our efforts in Asia for the 50 years since and they still perplex and haunt all our policy even today. In Asian politics, gunmen rise first. General Yuan Shikai seized power at Peking, turned loose lesser generals to ransack provinces. Briefly, he gathered a puppet assembly, imported an American professor to write a constitution for a republic. But old ways were easier. Returning to Confucian order in 1915, Yuan named himself emperor and six months later died. His rival, Sun Yat-sen, was the man of dreams. The dream of China, powerful, free of emperors and foreigners, made him from his youth a revolutionary. Students, teachers, merchants, meeting in such secret headquarters joined his conspiracy. On postcards, he scrawled a rising sun, emblem of a new flag someday to be. For 20 years, he planned destruction of the Manchu tyrants to see his dreams betrayed by Yuan Shikai. But his ideas were catching fire. In 1919, students throbbing to his fiery message, sick of chaos, furious at foreign pillage, angered by Japan's demands for more of China, filled the streets with protest riots. But students had no guns, ideas, no armies. Armies belonged to warlord generals, the heirs of Yuan Shikai. Power and force were theirs, whether trained to fight with Manchu broadsword or equipped with secondhand artillery. Laughable to Europeans, in China such troops struck terror. Their purpose, simple, to rule by killing. For 15 years, a dozen regional overlords subdivided morseled out provinces to lesser feudal warlords by the score. Warlord armies came in all shapes and weaponry as colorful as such grotesque commanders as giant Jiang Songjiang of legendary sexual appetite. Yan Xishan, the treacherous drug addict. Wu Pei Fu, lover of flowers and gardens. They never thought of the grain. They thought it was foolish to go out in the rain and fight. So if it was a rainy day, you were quite safe and comfortable. And then, of course, they all usually began at a certain time. They seldom began before 10 o'clock after everybody got his good breakfast and all that. They always took off for lunch. And then, by sunset, doesn't matter how hot the battle had been, when the sunset, everything stopped and quieted down for the night so we could get a good night's sleep and be ready to fight the next day. China watched such troops in shame. Craving order, knowing sorrow. Overlord in Manchuria was Jiang Sulin. Beginning life a common bandit, this scheming marshal had learned to mock all Chinese law, flout all patriotic need. Bribed by Japanese industrialists, protected by their garrisons, his soldiers let the Japanese aliens exploit this northern treasure land at will. Even the best of warlords, Feng Yuxiang, the Christian general who baptized soldiers with a fire hose insisting cleanliness is next to godliness, groped in vain to find a spark to unify his nation. In every valley, town, and village, men trembled at the sight of warlord soldiers. Death came by twitch of trigger in gusts of senseless cruelty. And life became so cheap that death itself became a spectacle. Children growing up became enured to violence, a culture of scholars transformed by killing. In flight from warlords, drought and taxes, from loot and ravine, refugees knew that only in the colonies and concessions of hated foreigners could they seek safety. Here, beggars for their bread, they might find mercy. A former State Department officer, Ernest Price, remembers China in the mid-twenties. We hit the country at a time of terrific heat wave and at the same time, drought in the great valleys.  We were horrified. We'd never seen anything like it. Our legation officials said, now, boys, I want to tell you something. Don't let this get under your skin, this sort of thing. You're going to see a lot more of it in China. In the western enclaves of the coast, life for foreigners went on unchanged. Here, the skyline walled from passing tourists the sight of Chinese anguish. While permanent expatriates returned each afternoon to homes of splendor, where countless servants made for master and his missy lady, a sunlit way of life, old China hands still mourn. From Shanghai, foreigners controlled most Chinese industries, mines, mills and railways. They set her tariffs, collected taxes. Prosperity rested as it always had on foreign guns and gun boats. Within whose shelter, western pleasures undisturbed rolled on. At race courses and at resorts, Chinese appeared, as always, servants only. At western clubs, the tinkle of ice and cocktails rose above the muffled sound of warlord guns outside. Yet even in Shanghai, if one listened, one could hear another note. In the streets, students were calling for revolt, middle-class youngsters, yet their message caught the ear of workers, too. By 1925, a ferment unsettled every major city. Symbol of all protest was Sun Yat-sen, who called on China to slay the dragon of imperialism. Slowly, through the early 1920s, Sun Yat-sen had somehow built a government, won a tiny southern foothold at Canton, ringed by hostile warlords. By 1924, the aging revolutionary had learned ideas and guns must go together. Ideas he hammered into three principles called Sun Min-Ju-Yi. First nationalism, next democracy, then socialism. To his nationalist party, the Guomindang, he now insists to conquer China, they must fight to throw the warlords and imperialists out. They will get guns, for he has found them. Spurned by the West, in 1923, he tells the New York Times, we have lost hope of help from America, England, France. The only country that shows any sign of helping us in the South is the Soviet government of Russia. Flatly, this report concludes, the prevailing foreign estimate of Dr. Sun has been that he is a dreamer and therefore dangerous. Arch symbol of Russian help is Michael Borodin, veteran agent of the Comintern, who brings the guidance of the Bolsheviks to Sun's dreaming. Counseling, scheming, urging, the mentor-communist becomes an all-pervasive influence, induces Sun Yat-sen to let the tiny Chinese Communist Party, 430 members, join Sun's nationalists. Sun gathers new-style Chinese officers to fight for country, not for loot. Of these, his favorite is Zhang Kaixuek. Sent hastily to Russia for training, Zhang soon returns, directs the Huangpo Military Academy at Canton, where patriots are trained by Russians to officer armies that will give the dream fresh muscle. Some scholars say that at this point, the Chinese leader recoiled at communism, prepared to break with Russia, but no one knows. For in March 1925, death cuts across the revolution. Sun dies of cancer. Mandarins, scholars, warlords, soldiers vile by his beer in homage. All claim his message as their legacy, scuffle for his mantle. The year's turmoil thrusts up the air. Sun Yat-sen's soldier favorite, Zhang Kaixuek. At 38, he seizes leadership at Canton headquarters of the Guomindang. This man is known to Westerners only as a fiery nationalist and revolutionary. As he mobilizes under Sun's new flag, all China waits for him to strike against the warlords. July 9th, 1926, Bei Ba, March North. Against Zhang's slim divisions are marshalled half a million warlord troops. A political earthquake rends the land, for these are soldiers of a different kind. Fighting for a cause and country, they storm through villages and fields, victorious as much by spirit as by guns. Accompanied by Borodin, a Russian staff, their wives, Zhang's headquarters pushes north by train. A forward fan of young revolutionaries, nationalist and communist alike, precedes the troops. Calling to arms peasants and workers, who surge to join the banners of the New Day dawning. Among them, then unnoticed, is a communist intellectual, Mao Zedong, then 33, directing scores of peasant agitators to summon fury for the revolution. By fall they take Hangkou. The nationalist revolution moves its capital there, and then exultantly raids the British concession, burns down foreign buildings, tears down foreign flags. The tide rolls on from Hangkou down the river. In April, Zhang Kaisek has reached Nanking, and then apports. Zhang waits. Upriver in Hangkou, left wing leaders of the Guomindang no longer trust their army's leader at the front. Borodin is urging, get rid of Zhang Kaisek. In four short years, the communists have grown to 60,000 members. They urge the left wing nationalists. No revolution is complete until peasants own their land, workers their factories. Zhang disagreed. Scholars of Chinese history still debate with enormous fury exactly what happened next, and why. But I think it's the classic revolutionary question. Who gets power? To whom the fruits of victory? No one knows what went on in Zhang Kaisek's mind, but I think one thing must have been clear to him. Either they were going to get him, or he was going to get them. And he wasn't about to be dismissed the way Sun Yat-sen had been dismissed from power by warlords so often. It was a question of who would strike first, and he struck first. April 12, 1927 in Shanghai was the night of terror, as young troops rounded up and butchered hundreds of communists, students, union leaders, anybody they suspected. And when the day rose, he was in complete control of all the lower Yangtze Valley.  And it all ends... it ends in tragedy. Because for so long, this country torn apart had waited for a government to give it unity and dignity. It expected so much of this revolution. And now they've found that revolutionaries can be butchers too. And this long, tormented quest for a new order was to end in this squalor. And it ended finally in December, 1927 in Canton, when, on orders from the Komen Turn, the communists attempted to stage a massive uprising and seize that industrial city, and the Guomandang struck back with counter-terror. Professor Earl Swisher witnessed the event. The National Forces came in on Tuesday afternoon. There was fighting and burning of parts of the city during the night, and then the Motha came on Wednesday morning, after the coup had lasted only about 48 hours. Identification of communists was a very simple matter. They had wrapped red kerchiefs around their necks to identify them as communists, and when the coup collapsed, these were hurriedly stripped off to remove the identification. But in the rather humid climate, the red scarfs left marks on their necks, and so that a communist was anyone with a red neck. The destruction of communists was a very simple process of rounding up everyone with a red stain on his neck and executing it. Some thought communism in China forever quenched, but Mao Zedong did not. He had escaped and watched in hiding. He would return to fight another day. In the cities of the Yangtze, children and teachers, businessmen and soldiers pulsed to Zhang's call. To north, south and east, warlords still ring him round, but the winds of fortune favor his expansion. May I introduce to the audience the President of the National Government of the Republic of China. Long live the Three Peoples' Principle. Long live the revolutionary spirit of the nationalist China. A fresh new face enters his life, the beautiful Mei Ling Song, sister of Madam Sun Yat-sen, American trained, well-educated. Zhang takes her hand in marriage. She is to be a major shaping influence in all his future thinking. By 1929, Zhang has built a majestic mausoleum for Sun Yat-sen at his new capital, Nanking. There, the body of the hero is brought. Pearl Buck remembers that day. Zhang Keshik came and roused great hopes in everyone. I remember the first time I ever saw him was at the funeral of Sun Yat-sen. Four years after Sun Yat-sen died, his embalmed body was brought to Nanking to be buried in a great new tomb on the mountain there. The first time I saw him, face to face, a very striking man with very striking bold black eyes. And he had a presence, and I think that he might have been a great first emperor if there had been a throne to sit upon. That was the tragedy, that the very structure of government was destroyed by the revolution so that there wasn't a government. And he had to begin that government from the bottom, and he didn't understand government. He was a soldier, and he didn't know how to make a government. And he had plenty of advisors, most of them young PhDs from the United States, very impractical and idealistic, and they didn't know how to make a government. And all the time he had the communists to fight, and he also had the Japanese threatening. It was a very difficult situation. I've never inclined to blame him. To westernize, this soldier's rule seems like the first firm government of China in many years. Jiang too was changing. For his wife, as much American in thought as Chinese, leads him to see the United States as friend, a source of loans and help. As new railways stretch their tracks across the country, the new Guomindong order Jiang has brought begins to offer comfort and luxuries to the cities he controls. Industry booms, production sores, engineers and young industrialists find for the first time careers opening to modern talents.  In cities, department stores begin to offer Chinese taste of every modern wear. Modern dress takes subtle hold on Chinese fashion, while rich Chinese, in centers like Shanghai, begin enjoying privileges until now saved for foreigners. Not such fraud, however, but the primordial appeal of Chinese nationalism is changing Asian politics. Even in Manchuria, the call of patriotism twinges the conscience of warlord Jiang Solin, causing him to flout his Japanese protectors. Travelling by rail in summer 1928, Jiang Solin meets his death. A Japanese plot, blasting him to bits, punishes him for what they call his treachery. His son, young Marshal Jiang Solin, succeeds to power in Manchuria. This junior warlord knows he must serve Japan as puppet or go with nationalism. He chooses Jiang. In Japan, this switch sets off alarm. Military men control Japan. They mobilize. They must strike soon. They know, if Jiang extends his sway to vast Manchuria, if China's 400 million people unify, then they must certainly lose the Asian mainland. September 18, 1931, attack begins which Marshal Jiang Solin's warlord soldiers cannot stop, and Jiang Kai-shek is powerless to help. Striking simultaneously at half a dozen different points, the soldiers of Japan seize towns and rails. By spring of 1932, they hold all Manchuria. Rename it Manchukuo, a puppet state at their command. The age sweeps China. Generals exhort their troops to stand by for the counter blow, demand a war of national resistance to Japan right now. For Jiang, the problem pinches. His foot soldier armies may be stronger than old warlord armies, yet they lack tanks, have old artillery, are just beginning to understand the airplane. He knows they cannot match the modern weapons of Japan. Not only that, he leads a nation still divided. The communists, struck down for good in 1927, have somehow swelled by 1932 to major force again. It was as if a ghost had risen from the dead. When Mao had fled in 1927 with his thousand communists, he was already disgusted with Borodin and clumsy Russian doctrine. He felt the key to revolution in Asia lay in the peasants of the countryside, not the big city proletariat. Eighty percent of all Chinese peasants lived in bleak and filthy villages, treated like brutes, imprisoned by official landlords, loan sharks, and Mao's idea was simple. Turn the hidden peasant anger against the local gentry, the local rich, as well as the unknown foreign. Let terror claim revenge by stealth and night, use pitchfork, guns, knives, grenades. Give guns to anger. Out of this idea, he created this black miracle of his, the doctrine of partisan warfare. Divide the land among the landless. Rip out roads, bridges, railways formal armies will have to slog on foot, dissolve in garrisons, bog down, transform the countryside into a total environment of hate. Let women, children, everyone not be afraid to die. There's political warfare raised to the nth degree, and by 1932 he controlled a good chunk of the two provinces of Hunan and Jiangxi and claimed the loyalty of nine million people. Jiang insists he cannot resist Japan unless he first has crushed this enemy within. From 1930 to 1935, he drives his troops to fight. His narrow military politics sees only one solution. Force must root out Mao's ideas with bayonets, with communism no compromise. Year after year, this civil war goes on as expedition after expedition grinds into failure in peasant ambuscade guerrilla war. An American newsreel of the early 1930s innocently reports this nameless civil war. Troubled China turns on the enemy within her gates. These bombing planes of the Nanking government get ready to attack the rebel strongholds in Jiangxi. Contact! This movie-tone flies with the air forces of President Jiang Chai-shek. This is an actual bombing raid, and as we sight the first of the rebel villages, we commence the attack. Jiang Chai-shek is making desperate efforts to unite the various provinces of China, many of which are torn by internal dissension, and if he can't do it one way, he tries another, including bombs and the ancient culture land of bloodshed, rebellion and war. By 1934, Jiang has forged a blockhouse ring around Mao's communists, and squeezing ever tighter, feel certain they are trapped. One of the most amazing episodes in history is the joys they oozed, dissolving into tie-bands they oozed through his fingers. In October 34, 90,000 men and women set out. Not just an army, but the government, an idea carrying all their records with them on these little yo-yo sticks on what they called the Long March. It's a thousand-mile trek they made from Jiangxi in Hunan, south to Guizhou and up to the Guizhou Plateau, and up across the foothills of Tibet, and then down again out of the mountains, down into Shaanxi, where in these dry and wind-swept hills, they made their base. 90,000 had set out. They arrived a year later in October 1935. 20,000 left, and there they were to dig in. This is how westerners saw them in these yellow barren hills, where, calling peasants to their cars, they finally fended off Jiang's pursuit. In 1936, however, Mao's line changes. He calls for unity against Japan. Rich and poor must stand together and end to civil war. Nationalist, communist, warlord all must stand as brothers against the alien threat. This new line appeals to millions, but not to Jiang Kaishik. He, his inner councils and his generals persist. Final mop-up of the communists must still go on, entrusted now to friendly warlords in the north. Yet mysteriously, this final mop-up stalls. The most important front against the communists is held by soldiers of Manchuria, driven out by Japanese. These homesick troops have little stomach for killing other Chinese. In the young marshal Jiang Suryang, they itch to tackle Japanese. In December 1936, Jiang flies off to see the young marshal in Xi'an, to plog him on to sterner effort. In Xi'an, however, communists have convinced the young marshal that civil war must stop. Then that happens. One of those episodes that sounds as if they were written in the book of Make Believe. And again, we have no photographs because no one invites a photographer to witness a kidnapping, which was what happened next. Jiang was there to urge them to fight the communists. And on the night of December 11th, he was sleeping in a villa outside of Tao when he was awakened by gunfire. And the young marshal and his troops were shooting their way into his villa and trying to kidnap him. Jiang was in his night shirt and bare feet. He slipped out the back way, tried to climb over the wall, fell. He hurt his back. He lost his false teeth. His feet were bleeding as he ran over the rocks. And the young marshal's soldiers caught him and brought him back. It sounds mad, but that's the way China was and it got even madder. Because when they brought him back, they invited the communists down from North Shanxi and on December 15th, the communists, the young marshal and Jiang, all sat down to talk. The communists and the young marshal said to Jiang Kaishak, it's time to end the civil war. We must all unite against the Japanese or else they could have killed him, but they didn't. And Jiang Kaishak agreed. He would halt the civil war and he would form a united front against the Japanese. And so on Christmas Day, they gave him a plane and Jiang Kaishak and the young marshal flew down to Nanking to announce the civil war was over. But Jiang had made no promises to the young marshal so he imprisoned him immediately and kept him prisoner ever after even to this day in exile on Fumosa. Christmas 1936. At Nanking, members of the government await their president's return. In pain, he hobbles out, announces to the world, a popular front of Guomindang and communists will now, united under his command, turn to face the menace of Japan. Japan's imperial tradition has, however, a cardinal rule. Always strike first. July 1937. The war is on. The Japanese now seek total conquest, not just another chunk of territory. They blast the heart of China in the Yangtze Valley, with Shanghai first to take the shock. The Imperial Navy shells Shanghai at point-blank range. A century since Britain first blasted China open. A generation since the bloodshed of the boxers. Babies have grown to manhood without a year of peace. Over 25 years, China has lived with warlords, guns, and terror. But now it must drink deeper of the cup of bitterness. Nanking this morning has its 28th raid. I am speaking to you just as the echoes of exploding bombs have died down. Death comes from the clear blue sky, just as it has come to thousands of our innocent people throughout the length of our land. November, Shanghai falls. December, Nanking is sacked and raped. Through winter and spring 38, the Japanese push up the Yangtze, destroying the decade-long achievement of Zhang Kai-shek, ravaging the cities on which all future hope of nationalist China rests. In the north, a different vision of tomorrow's China guides the communists. In a village at a mountain gulch, they make a capital, Yan'an. Headquarters have paper windows, furnishings of bamboo. Their troops are called the Chinese Eighth Route Army. But the United Front dissolves. Red generals ignore Zhang's orders. Their strategy makes an independent war against Japan. In rear areas like Yan'an, soldiers raise their food. Mao himself grows tobacco. Zhu Du, the Red Army's commander-in-chief, and cabbage patch. Peasant women spin and sew the cloth for uniforms. Fashions straw sandals for the soldiers. The mind of Mao Zedong sees warfare differently from other men. I remember Mao Zedong saying to me that Americans thought the communists would lose. That they saw the communists in the hills of Yan'an, walking around with straw sandals, a ragamuffin army. And he said that any wise European who had seen George Washington's people at Valley Forge would have said that George Washington was going to lose. He said it's true, he said, that the Japanese and Chiang Kai-shek have electricity, airplanes, tanks, and we have nothing, he said. But then he said, the British had all those things, and George Washington didn't have electricity. And yet George Washington won, and he suddenly realized with a start that Mao Zedong was not really sure of when and in what century electricity was introduced, that his the structure of his knowledge was totally different from the structure of Chiang Kai-shek's in ours. Mao's knowledge of Asian war, however, is unmatchable. With these generals, he lifts the doctrine of partisan warfare to new levels. Lin Biao directs Kang Da for guerrilla leaders. Jiu Dui deploys guerrilla bands hundreds of miles in Japan's rear. The people are the sea, says Mao Zedong. Guerrillas are like fish who swim in the sea. Within a year, such troops gather 200,000 peasant soldiers. The Japanese may see cities, but the Eighth Route Army holds all North China countryside about them. In the Yangtze Valley, however, all through summer 38, fortress after fortress of Chiang Kai-shek falls, the Japanese crunch on. By October, his last two citadels are doomed. First Canton, then four days later, Hangkou falls. Killing prisoners, spreading horror where they go, the Japanese convince themselves that sheer stark terror will now at last persuade the nationalists to quit. The war is won. Yet still, their prey eludes them. From Hangkou, Jiang has planned retreat. His government is to settle at Zhongqing in China's deepest mountain fastness, Sichuan. The nationalists set out. Pack laborers salvage from the burning cities what few machines they can. Students haul away school libraries. Beyond the mountains lies the safety of the Sichuan basin. It's only entry by the cleft the Yangtze cuts. A steeper climb, say Chinese poets, then the climb to heaven itself. Retreat continues all through winter, expression of a will to fight that no disaster has diminished. Up through these gorges, they pull or pull their boats. Until finally in 1939, the rearmost echelon of the sad procession drags through. They scorch a trackless belt of no man's land to guard these last interior strongholds from the Japanese. Zhongqing is now the wartime capital, a city of another age, almost unchanged in sight or smell or sound from Manchu, China. And here among these backward peasants, the government digs in. Spurning all Japanese peace proposals, the Chinese brace themselves for certain havoc. And in the spring of 39, it comes. Bombs continue. Yet Zhong persists. Powerless to strike back, Zhong knows only America can help. His diplomats in Washington seek aid. Yet, he has other troubles too. It was about this time in 1941, at the height of the bombing that I had my first talk with Zhongkai Shek about the war against Japan and its strategy. And at the end, almost as an afterthought, he said, remember, the Japanese are a disease of the skin, but the communists are a disease of the heart. It seemed odd to me because at that time the Japanese were bombing the daylights out of both Zhongkai Shek and the communists, both of whom were allied against the Japanese. But now in retrospect, it seems to me an almost prophetic remark, almost a vision of an apocalypse to come. Those who the gods destroy, they first make mad. On December 7, 1941, madness seizes the Japanese. Striking at Pearl Harbor, they hope to force America's consent to their conquest of China. Now China has a mighty ally. America's arms will soon be theirs. Geography destroys this hope. Supplies must crawl across the ocean to get to India, then be flown to China across the Japanese blockade. American pilots brave the topless Himalayas to fly the hump and carry what they can, yet average only a few thousand tons a month for the army of four million Chinese soldiers. Feeding an elephant with an eyedropper, an American veteran calls it. Discouraged Chinese leaders say our arsenals make only 15 million bullets a month, just four per soldier. How can we fight? Americans discover there are other reasons for poor Chinese morale. Graffed in their armies, generals corrupt incompetent. The soldiers ill-shod, underfed and sick. Major General Frank Dorn recalls his training mission at the time. A visiting American general from Washington asked me if he could see some Chinese troops marching on the road. So we drove out, and the first thing we saw, of course, was that the majority, majority of the men, had dogs of one kind or description, size, anything that they could have stolen along the way, on ropes, on leashes, on anything. And he smiled and said, here they are, the GIs the world over. They all love dogs. And I said, yes, they certainly love these. And he wanted to know what I meant by that. And I said, well, this is their rations. When they run out of rice and other food, the dogs go into the crook pots. Commanding general for America is Joseph Stillwell. A soldier-soldier, his mission is to train a Chinese army to strike back. In India, training thousands of Chinese flown back across the hump, Stillwell learns to know their true ability. But he grows bitter at their government, which cannot nourish them. He feels they can attack and win if led by honest officers. He insists that Zhang reorganize his army to throw incompetence out. In Chongqing, this pressure irritates the generalissimo. He knows that victory is guaranteed by efforts of his allies. His thoughts are on the aftermath of victory. The final struggle for power yet to come. A weariness of spirit seeps through his government. Something fades. They wander alien through this anachronistic city. The fronts are far away. America's flying tigers guard the skies. Their background of big city life cuts them from direct involvement with these peasant people.  Yet nonetheless the prestige of Zhang's government grows. Foreign diplomats court his favor, do him honor. In 1943 at Cairo's wartime summit conference, he sits with Roseville and Churchill, accepted now as equal of the great, consulted on the strategy of global war. Assured of China's freedom, China's greatness in the post-war world. From Ye'nan's Tawny Hills the communists watch all this and brood. Unrecognized by foreign powers, they know their strength is growing. Not foreign aid, but peasant emotions give power. And Mao too is hardening. Like Zhang, he thinks beyond the war to what must follow. Twenty years of flight and fighting have toughened him to hardship. But his memory too is scarred. By Zhang, by white men, Russians and Americans alike. His troops swell daily behind enemy lines. His self-assuredness freezes to dogma. He has been right so often when others made mistakes. His truths become for communists a holy script. Colonel David Barrett, chief of the American military liaison team in Ye'nan watched all this and recalls. They emphasized that they had to give the troops political training because the political consciousness of the peasants who made up the Chinese communist armies was very low. So therefore, they said, we have to give them political training. I told them, I said, in the United States army we look with disfavor on giving political training. We think we should devote our whole time to military training. That's the case in our army because we consider military training and political training as equally important and one cannot be neglected for the other. Judo agrees with Mao. Power is what comes out of a muzzle of a gun. But ideas, politics must motivate the man behind the gun. A concept the nationalists only dimly grasp. Theodore White recalls how powerful communist motivation could be. I went with a group of Chinese nationalist guerrillas who were organizing resistance behind the Japanese lines. And there was a young nationalist lieutenant and two horsemen and myself and we traveled behind the Japanese lines for, oh I'd say, two or three days and then the Japanese flushed us and we ran like mad and they chased us all day and by the time we arrived in the northern village at night the horses were completely worn out saddle-gold on their flanks heaving and we were as tired and just as scared and we asked the villagers to give us water and fodder for our horses and I heard the young Chinese officers say, woman shibalu jun we are of the 8th root army and I said to him, look we're nationalists not 8th root army guerrillas and he said, shut up these Chinese nationalists they won't feed our horses or water them it was the first sense I'd ever had of the political grip the communists had acquired on the minds and the hearts of the people in the occupied areas as war wears on American aid increases and Zhang is pleased reviewing the new division still well has trained and equipped towards these splendid forces they will be useful later still well violently objects he wants to use them now against Japan he has no interest in future civil war still well feels unless Zhang purifies his government not only is he no help in this war but once the war is over surely the communists will win their quarrel grows from Washington flies a mission to heal the nasty breach under Major General Patrick Hurley an Oklahoma politician Zhang sees this as more white man's arrogance a meddling in the politics of China no compromise is possible and still well as relieved of command in 1944 certain American involvement in Asia will be long and tragic the world rejoices as in 1945 the Japanese surrender the guns they hope forever stilled to sign the document of surrender aboard the Missouri the allies, America, England, Russia invite Japan's first victim China in their eyes China's only spokesman is Zhang Kai-shek who sends nationalist generals to represent his people the communists are absent for Chinese this is but the curtain to enact the climax yet to come and clash with communists to stop this dreadful prospect General Patrick Hurley now named ambassador flies off to Yanan he urges Mao the war is over, let there be peace let Mao and Zhang divide the country politically but unify both rival armies under a central government America will underwrite the deal Hurley puts a plane at Mao's disposal to explore the proposition in Jun King thus Mao arrives on the first plane flight he has ever taken his safety guaranteed by Americans this is his first face-to-face contact with the Guomindang since the killings and uprisings of 1927 six weeks of negotiation will produce apparent agreement as Zhang plays host to Mao before departure the plans that lurk behind their smiles however deceive all western eyes for in the field a race is on across the land the broken Japanese must sign defeat yield cities, garrisons and guns but which Chinese will take the guns and occupy the cities communist or nationalist the nationalists with all the transport of America at their disposal and plane their troops to seize the cities of the Yangtze Valley this ease of movement will lead them on to larger appetite dispersion of their forces up from the Yangtze to seize the cities not only of North China but beyond Manchuria with its vital industry they will not be able to fight the war against the Japanese nor will the communists sit still together Mao and Zhu like Zhang decide the key lies in Manchuria they choose Lin Biao as field commander to make the dash from Yunnan and North China they will strike east and north while Zhang is readying troops to move from Yangtze ports and airfields by foot and pack train Lin Biao sets out the Russians have temporarily occupied Manchuria by the surrender terms with Japan communists expect to get from Russians surrender Japanese equipment and guns and hold the countryside before Zhang arrives the rumble of inevitable clash causes America to replace Hurley with General George Marshall this architect of global victory is sent to save the peace for which so brilliantly he labored received by Zhang Kaishik Marshall drops for American solution to the bitter revolutionary surges of a strange Asian nation torn by barbarisms a generation old to his Chongqing headquarters he invites a communist delegation led by Zhou Enlai chief communist negotiator to meet with Zhang Kaishik spokesman Marshall suggests and they agree to an American answer for China's groping search for order a federal government peacefully permitting the two parties to govern provinces they now hold politically freedom of speech permitted everywhere and disputes resolved by talk not guns in January 1946 both parties celebrate a truce with a handshake no paper truce however can mend a nation ripped apart by 50 years of killing within two months troops are on the move again each side blames the other but a hundred savage skirmishes now flair to full-scale war Manchuria is the cockpit of the struggle the industry Japan has built and left is the greatest prize in China Zhang's American equipped troops sees all major cities to find a hollow triumph the Russian occupiers have looted every factory before withdrawal ripped out sockets show where great machines once stood for Mao the fighting in Manchuria is prelude to the climax of his theories a day when guerrilla bands group into formal armies and shove frontal combat at a weary enemy he fights for more than safety now his ambition seeks to mold all China to his theories I asked Mao Zedong what their policy was with regard to freedom of the press and he said they believed in absolute freedom of press and absolute freedom of speech and it wasn't going to be like Chongqing when they won everybody would have the right to say whatever he felt it wouldn't be censorship the way John Kai-shek had in Chongqing so I said do you really mean that? and he said of course we mean it I said do you mean that if you come to power anybody will be able to print anything he wants in a newspaper or publish any newspaper he wants and Mao Zedong said of course he said except for enemies of the people nor did he ever define I was too young to ask him to define what he meant by enemies of the people obviously now it means anybody who disagrees with him in summer 46 Zhang returned his government to Nanjing and once again as 17 years before reports the victory of his cause at Sun Yat-sen's mausoleum the fighting in the north is only distant thunder in the Yangtze Valley American advisors urge he sees this moment to win the hearts and firm the loyalties of his people by new reforms thus in Nanjing Zhang convenes a congress to write a modern constitution in one last try to govern China by the order Sun Yat-sen has preached but the thrust of all his background is still military his troops must win by force of arms with American arms he feels the communists can be crushed but his troops dig in to garrison rail junctions cities they have occupied American advisors insist on such static defenses major error they say he pins down his best divisions where communist guerrillas will isolate them Queen city of Zhang's victorious China is Shanghai restored at last to Chinese rule all foreigners concessions wiped out while battle flares in the northern provinces Shanghai seems to thrive the long wars dislocation has filled the streets with hungry refugees and homeless laborers who offer muscle energy for little more than rice to feed them but after 50 years of suffering such sites are almost normal what worries Shanghai landers most is this their money for slowly then more swiftly through 46 and 47 the cost of distant civil war destroys the value and the meaning of these bundled paper dollars inflation ruins the vital middle class of all the cities the one great source of Zhang's political support novelist Steven Becker remembers the panic years the inflation was heartbreaking when I got there in August of 1947 the exchange rate was 60,000 yuan to one American dollar and when I left in September of 1948 it was 20 million yuan to one but people on relatively fixed incomes were just ruined in the summer of 1948 my wife and I had a continental dinner at one of Shanghai's best hotels and the check came to 250 million yuan who lost China to the reds ignorant men will someday ask but now in 1948 sorrow scrawls its signature clear too many years of death and flight too many dreams betrayed in 50 years of barbarism a gangrene of the spirit has set in erasing pride and will and hope peace whisper the communists to weary minds peace an end to roaming now submit peace they say accept our mastery and peace land they say to landless peasants refugees join us they promise and the land will be divided all throughout China slipped their cadres calling meetings to share out the landlord's feels which soon they plan to snatch away again in summer 1948 Mao makes his master move assault by frontal armies in Manchuria guerrilla bands emerge from hiding form up in full divisions equipped with captured tanks artillery and guns Zhang's garrisons are isolated by ruptured railways hostile peasants November 1948 Manchuria falls panic begins among the cutoff nationalist garrisons in North China surrendering by scores then thousands then full divisions the equipment America has given them falls to the reds to America her second homeland flies madam John Kaishik in November 48 to make a last appeal for further help but Harry Truman has had enough reluctantly he tells her American involvement must end and now the nationalists pursued by rap as they in years gone by did once pursue the communists gather its you Joe last bastion guarding access to the mighty yang seas valley for two full months Zhang's troops fight on in January cut off they must surrender half a million soldiers lost the communists poor south his spirit heavy burden Zhang resigns his leadership hoping other men may court the communists for better terms on April 1st the nationalists send emissaries to Peking to plead with Mao Zedong but they have passed the point of no return no mercy say the communists the new mandate of heaven requires all nationalists to lay down arms within three weeks three weeks later to the day the communists uncoil to cross the Yangtze first target is Nan King the hallowed capital of the Guomindan but in that capital the will to fight has turned to dust no man will stand the ramparts abandoning positions troops trudge away as silent people stand and watch too many warring armies have passed this desolate way to make them want to fight for any faith or any politics no mainland refuge now remains and fleeing nationalists embark what troops they can to cross the ocean for the island of Formosa Shanghai hears the message clearly as foreign businessmen board up their shops go now go quickly for communism marches take what you can but flee in Pelmel haste the western powers evacuate the city they have built for good and bad alike must leave the businessman come for profit as well as missionaries come to heal must say goodbye as out the Yangtze steams the last of western influence and farewell to a century May 27th, 1949 down Shanghai's princely avenues the pleasure boulevards of yesteryear rolls the victorious red tide in six more months all china will submit red star triumphant hoisted over the world's most ancient nation silently the crowds observe their newest conquerors today in 1967 the marble altars of Peking still beseech the will of heaven as always chinese still gather here to listen to the voices that interpret heaven's will for 18 years this man alone has tried to shape their thinking has offered them his universal truths a dogma changeless as confucius to freeze their muffled discontent and end their quenchless modern turbulence the image shown his people has been a teacher grandfather benign yet all have learned that those who cannot read his lessons will be crushed his aging mind still lusts for permanent strife the theme he preaches to old and young alike is hate we are small militia men fighting u.s. imperialism uncle we must grow up quick and go to liberate taiwan taiwan the object of their hate we call for mosa this rocky island 90 miles off the mainland has many meanings to statesman it is the last remaining redoubt of the guomindang where chang kai shek with american arms has re-equipped an army 600,000 strong and dreams reconquest but chang is pawned to american policy he cannot move these troops or fuel them unless america lets him do so now 80 chang kai shek bespeaks for mainland china another threat after for mosa in his flight chang has carried the ancient imperial museum of peking the treasures of 800 years of chinese art symbol of another china beauty past it is this echo of the past that has bedeviled Mao who seeks erasure of all past yet how Mao struggle goes we cannot tell at the american consulate in hong kong there are cascades, mountains, piles of translations that come in from the chinese and these are sandy gritty, gravelly little bits of information that are meaningless because we don't know who does what to who in peking we don't know how they think or how they make up their mind because no matter how hard we study china we cannot predict such a thing as the great leap forward in 1958 we can't predict such a thing as the redguard purge of 1966 as if there were a struggle of seamonsters going on deep deep beneath the surface of our vision and only these bubbles come to the surface to tell us that these are terrible struggles but we don't know what they're struggling about today in total ignorance we strain to know of china as once our ancestors strain to peer across the mysterious wall not knowing myth from fact we know industry grows steel production swollen 10 times to 12 million tons a year light industry soaring but what comfort it gives the people we cannot judge we know beyond this wall live people of dazzling historical ability the forefathers of these students first invented paper printing, books, gunpowder to block the compass in 1967 they loft rockets in 65 they synthesized insulin in 64 they unlocked the atom secrets from behind the wall rise boastful statistics but we know that china's people hunger have barely survived one of the worst famines in all history that driven by communist cadres peasants work in communes today still beasts of labor as their fathers were within these walls tyranny has tried to reach beyond the body to the inner recesses of the soul I woke at midnight and saw my little brother smiling I asked him why he smiled and he said I dreamed of chairman Mao the purpose of all learning is to fathom what goes on in chairman Mao's mind this mind holds all the truths that ever were or will be neither age nor place nor class has allowed escape from pounding the chanting of Mao's litany and railroad stations in stores at work even those who built the wall so long ago must be forgotten they have been told no history but Mao's the aging leaders who shared the hills of hiding 40 years ago trekked the long march with stood Japan, America, the Guamindang must now again pass judgment on their revolution they writhe and split within these walls they clash they seek replacement for a chief whose triumphs make him think himself the voice of heaven this is their bomb in ten years time there will be more the nightmare problem of our time shapes clear to reach the minds of Mao's successors with reason before unreasoning bombs of the dialogue it does no good to mourn the past we pass along a road of time which always turning never brings us back to the crossroads marked again perhaps we should never have disturbed the slumbering civilization of China or else it wake of itself and reach for us perhaps China is too vast to be governed by mercy yet if Chinese mind craves order they must be brought to recognize they are the biggest factor in the world's disorder and we must untangle the madness of their mind the most difficult task in the world is to reach the minds of men who hate you we do not flinch from the immediate tasks to guard our skies friends we cannot flinch from tomorrow's task to reach the mind of China we race today to reach the moon to reach that mind is a task of equal difficulty and far greater urgency


Hey, this is Brett, and this 2018 Ram 2500 Crew Cab Longbox Laramie Longhorn South Fork Edition is stock number 13424Z. I am here at Summit Automotive in Phan Lack, Wisconsin, your new and used heavy-duty truck and Ram headquarters. This 2018 Ram 2500 has the 6.7 liter Cummins diesel engine. It's paired up with the 6-speed 68 RFE automatic transmission. This truck has a max tow capacity of 17,051 lbs and has a max payload capacity of 1,751 lbs. I got those numbers off Ram's tow guide website. If you want to check that out, it's in the description below, a link to that website. This truck has been fully safety and inspected by our service shop, has a fresh oil and filter change. All the fluids have been checked and topped off. Before the state of Wisconsin inspection process, and this truck is 100% ready to go, I'm going to go all the way around in this video inside, underneath, start it up, and take a look under the hood. I'll show you the amazing interior on this one as the special South Fork Edition gives you Delmonico Red over Walnut Brown as the paint scheme. I shoot all my videos in 4K in hopes of giving you the most accurate representation of the vehicle possible. If you have HD capabilities, turn them on right now because it is your best way to check out the quality, condition, and of course options and cleanliness of the vehicle before seeing it in person. As you go down this side of this 2018, take note, no dents or dings in the box, the doors look really good as well. Front fender is in great shape. If you like the video, you can subscribe to my YouTube channel, which is youtube.com slash Summit Auto. Click the bell notifications. You'll get updates on the videos I do each and every day here at Summit Automotive. This one comes with the 18 inch painted and polished aluminum rims. It has Firestone Transforce HT tires, these are LT27570R18s, and I would say they have a really good amount of tread left, probably about 80%, 90%. So good tread left on those tires. Frame and underbody is in very nice condition for an 18, and the front fender is in excellent condition. Has the projector lamp headlamps, LED running lights, front bumpers in pretty nice shape. I didn't see any major dents on there. Has the front bumper parking sensors, factory fog lights, get the special ram stamped grille with the long horn addition. The hood is in very nice condition as well. I didn't see any dents or dings on there, and it does come with the cab lights up to the top. Passenger side front fender, no major dents or dings on there. And the passenger side rim, no major scuffs or scrapes. Now Delmonico Red, it's got a little bit of pearl coat to it. And then the walnut brown has a little bit of metal flake to it as well, so really a good color combo on here. And as you go down this side of this 2018 Ram 2500 Longhorn South Fork Edition, take note of how clean that body is, how reflective and mirror-like that paint is. I take these HD videos so if you are far away, or even if you're close by and you just cannot make the trip down but you're still interested in purchasing the vehicle, you can see the truck, hear the truck, and have confidence in the vehicle that you're looking at before you even get here, so when you do get here, there's absolutely no surprises, and you can make a smart and informed buying decision from wherever you're at. If this video helps you make that buying decision, let your salesman know that you saw the video, that it was helpful, and that Brett sent you. Back rim, excellent shape as well, and the back tires have right around 50% of the tread left on them. Frame and underbody back here looks really good as well, has all the remaining factory exhaust, and it's very clean underneath all the way. The rockers and cab corners look fantastic. It has the really nice factory chrome wheel-to-wheel side steps. Get the fender flares on there with the long horn addition as well. Coming around to the back, rear bumper is in great shape, no dense ordnings on there. It does have the backup parking sensors, full towing package which includes a receiver hitch four pin and seven pin wiring. The tailgate is in pretty nice condition as well, does have a locking tailgate, backup camera, and you get the block long horn lettering on the tailgate as well. Comes with a very nice spray and bed liner. Fifth wheel and Gooseneck prep package, you get the seven pin wiring, has the LED bed lights with the button back here, and this one also has the cargo cam. Bed itself is in really nice condition, a couple little dings but nothing too bad, and that spray and bed liner goes onto the tailgate as well. That's nice and solidly and as we come around to the driver's side one more time, for full disclosure this back rim is in very nice condition as well. Down the rest of the side of the truck, like I said, looks really good, insinidensed, insinidings, has the heated fold-up tow mirrors built in directional signals. They fold up like so, they fold in like that, I'm pretty sure they're power-fold in. Inside the South Fork Edition gives you the tan and brown leather interior. You get the long horn patch on the side that design on the bolsters there. Memory driver's seat, lumbar, power driver's seat, weather tech floor mats throughout, auto headlamps, power pedals, power windows, locks and mirrors. Like I said, these mirrors do power fold in. I always like showing both sides so that you know that both sides are working properly. You get the nice real wood grain trim on the doors, the leather bolsters there. Back seats are designed just like the front seats. No rips or tears back here, it does have the latch child safety system for any child car seats you may have. Power sliding rear window, you get the suede headliner, which is specific to the South Fork Edition. You also get the speakers in the ceiling part of the Alpine premium sound system. Back seats are in excellent shape, they fold up like so. You get a load floor, which is nice if you've got muddy boots or tools, put them on there, you're not going to get your seat sturdy or if you've got pets, put both sides down, they've got a nice flat place to lay and once again they're not going to get your seat sturdy. You also have storage underneath there, you get storage in the floor with removable containers for easy cleaning. You can put ice and drinks in there, and it's like you have too many coolers wherever you go, or if you're not in Wisconsin just extra space has a back seat heating, there are your buttons for that. You get the saddle bags on the back of the front seats, and they got a little magnet that locks them into place. Side curtain to airbags, you get the cool handle with the stitching on there, all the red stitching as well on the doors, child safety locks, inside of the doors, all looks really, really good. We'll hop inside, check out the miles, the radio, and everything that this truck has to offer on the interior. Specific to the South Fork Edition, you get the long horn animation at the beginning, the 7-inch LCD display, digital speedometer, the special Laramie long horn dash, or instrument cluster I should say, and that is specific to the long horn package, not necessarily the South Fork. Digital speedometer, outside temp, miles per gallon, range to empty and compass display, you can change those corners to read whatever you want. Instrument cluster is very nice and clean, comes with the heated leather wrapped, wood grain trim, steering wheel with the red stitching, cruise controls on the right, Bluetooth and information center controls on the left. You get the six speed automatic transmission with the optional tap shift, that's the 68 RFE automatic transmission. This one has the 8.4 for C radio, you can see it has the factory navigation system, there's highway 41, so that is working nicely. You get AM, FM and Sirius XM radio capabilities, you have your heated seats, cooled seats, your backup cameras are right here, you can choose between your normal backup camera or your cargo cam, you can see both of those are working nicely, you have your climate controls there, and then you have all your different apps, including projection manager, you can project your cell phone to the screen, so if you wanted to use a different app system such as Waze or Google Maps, projected to your screen through Android Auto or Apple CarPlay, then it's like you have a different app system on your screen, we actually did a demo on Android Auto on an 8.4, if you want to check that out, that's in the upper right hand part of the screen there. So the other thing that's specific to the South Fork Edition is this really cool trim on the dash, then it goes onto the center console as well, it's kind of like a pearl finish to the dash, looks really cool, get your keyless entry with a remote start, this one also has your more climate, more tactile climate and volume and tune controls, turned out four wheel drive, here's your factory brake controller, this one also has the alternate trailer height, so it has the rear airbag suspension where it'll actually level out the back of the truck, so if you've got a heavy load in there, it'll pump air into it to level it back out, and then you can program different trailers for different heights and stuff, so that's pretty cool. He didn't cool seat buttons down there, stability control, tow haul, factory exhaust brake on your front and rear parking sensors are right there as well, 115 volt, 150 watt plug-in, you also get the wood grain cover for your storage area, two cup holders, dual glove boxes, passenger side floor mat and seat are in excellent condition as well, smells very clean inside this truck, and once again that headliner is suede, and it is in very nice condition, you get the power sunroof, map lights, power slide rear window button, and your home link buttons for your garage door security systems or lighting systems, assistant S-west buttons in the mirror, and you can see it does have the Alpine premium sound system right there. I wanted to show you the tire and loading information real quick, and then the VIN sticker, and then we'll start it up and take a look under the hood. All right, start it up, take a look under the hood, starts right up, no check engine lights or anything like that. Looks like it's getting 19 miles a gallon just about, pretty sweet on a diesel, full size truck. Anyways, I would personally like to thank you for checking out the video today, and hopefully from this HD video, you've been able to verify the quality condition options and of course cleanliness of this truck all the way around inside and out. Under the hood, the 6.7 liter Cummins diesel engine, engine base is very clean, runs very smooth, once again this truck has been fully safety and inspected by our service shop as a fresh oil and filter change, all the fluids have been tracked and topped off per the state of Wisconsin inspection process, and this truck is 100% ready to go. There is the emissions sticker, and I would highly recommend this truck from a quality and condition standpoint, and to see more pictures of this truck or one of our other 550 new and used cars, trucks, SUVs, minivans, Wranglers, halftones, 3 quarter tons, one tons. You name it, we gotta go to that website right there, summitauto.com. Full pictures and descriptions of every single vehicle from two locations, all at summitauto.com. And if you'd like to check out more HD videos, you can go to youtube.com slash summitauto. Remember to like, subscribe, and share on this video and all the videos that you see there. Click the bell notifications and you'll get updates on the videos I do each and every day here at Summit Automotive. In fact, in a second you'll see a link to subscribe to my YouTube channel on the upper left. A link to more Ram 2500 truck videos that I've done in the upper right, a link to this vehicle on our website in the lower left, and a link to one of our latest YouTube videos in the lower right. Click those, check us out. We're super excited to help you with this Ultra Clean 2018 Ram 2500 through a cab long box, Laramie Longhorn Southport Edition, and Delmonico Red Herlko. Thanks again for checking out the video. Remember to like, subscribe, and share on the YouTube channel. I really appreciate it. Thanks again.


A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty high old silver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful masked rider of the planes led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. Nowhere in the pages of history can one find a greater champion of justice. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past come the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. I'm still there. Let's go, big fellow. I'm still there. Grandma Prindle and her husband, Abe, maintained a little shop in Deerfoot. They sold oil, tobacco, candles and other commodities to the neighbors who paid for now as the shop as often as possible. Grandma was in a rocking chair in the rear of the store when Tonto came through the door and received Abe's customary greeting. Good morning to the engine. Good morning. Oh. Now can't you see any more than that? What's your name and where you're from?  Me, stranger. Me, Tonto. Well, Tonto, what do you want? You got sugar? I tell you. Yes, Abe. We happen to have any sugar in stock?  That's right. Well, let me see. Where do you want this sugar for? Well, me, want it for friend, want sugar for camp, maybe some for horse. You hear that, Matilde? Yep. Got the sugar. Let him hear what he wants. I thought you'd say that. You see, Tonto, my wife there, she can't see. Her eyes have gone bad. Sorry. And when a stranger comes in, she can tell by his voice whether he's honest or shady. I sure can. Oh, and that keep good. She listens, and if she says we got what that umbra wants, then it means he's all right, and his credit is good if he ain't got the cash. But if she says he's a shady critter, then he can't get no credit. Oh, me pay cash. Cash? Huh? For land and sex. You hear that, Matilde?  Ford changes his mind. Well, how much you want? Well, me want five pounds. Yes, sir, five pounds. Cash money. Got it. Tonto, eh? That's right. Oh, no. Who's this? Aye. Who's on this store? I want some tobaccon. I'm in a hurry. Yes, sir. I'll get it. My husband's busy, but I'll get it for you. I know just where to lay my hand. Give me two plugs. You haven't been here before, have you? Yeah, what's that to you? Give me that tobaccon and stop the talk. Oh, I'm getting it. Just a second now. Oh, not there. It's on the shelf below. Oh. That's it. What's the matter with you? Uh, here's your tobacco. Thank you. Pay your next time when I'm through this way. But, mister... I said I'd pay you later. If you don't like that, just try and take that stuff away from me. Please. Goodbye. Thanks for the tobacco. You wait. Well, dog gone if it's not a red skin.  You pay. You sure have your nerve red skin talking to me that way.  You get mad, and you get mad. Come on, let go of your first man. Nice. Okay. All right. All right. The dog gone cash. Now, let me go. Now, you go. I'll teach you. You drop down on your youth. You go. Don't hit me again. I'll go. Just let me pick up my gun. No. You leave, Tom. You go. It's a lie, Tom, too. Here, gun. You take it. Here's your sugar, Tom. See, what was all that shouting I heard? What was all the noise about? Oh, Abe, a crook came in and asked for some tobacco. And when I gave it to him, he wasn't going to pay for it. It hadn't been for Tom to eat a soul-ish. See, is that so? Him leave gun, and you take it. My gun? Oh, Abe. What? Oh. But, Jilly, what's the trouble? This gun. What about it? Abe, look at it and tell me what's carved on the handle. My fingers wouldn't lie to me, but tell me. Why, what? Where are they? Where is it? Is it? Jilly, this is curtshooting, Abe. Oh, I knew it. Oh, I knew it. It's his. His initials. Here they are, carved just like when he put them there. Oh, grandson. Abe, how did that man get this gun? How could he get it from Curd? Oh, you're saying maybe he killed him? Jilly, are you certain that wasn't Curd that was in here? Oh, no, Abe, that wasn't Curd. That wasn't our grandson. I had no Curd's voice anywhere, anytime. I have been hearing it, hearing it every night, singing to me, just like Curd used to sing. Oh, I'll never forget the way he used to sing. No, Abe, that man wasn't Curd. Then how did that man get Curd's gun? If we only knew. Oh, where is Curd? What's he been doing all these years since him and me fought? But, Jilly, if I could only reach him and tell him to come back home, I'd be the happiest man alive. Well, that gun belonged to your boy, you say? Yes, it did. These are his initials, Curd, isn't it all right? Well, maybe that man, him know where your grandson is. Well, he'd better go now. Nice man, that Indian. Only he could find Curd for us. Maybe he will be able to do something. He's out there trying to pick up the trail, it looks like. I can see him through the window. Back in the hills, the Lone Ranger waited at the camp that was well hidden in a canyon. Suddenly, he heard hoofs approaching as Tonto galloped toward him. The Lone Ranger knew that something had happened by the Indian's appearance. Hello, Scott. Oh, fellow. Oh, fellow. What is it? Kimosabi, you know a fellow by name, uh, Kurt Prindle? Yes, his grandparents run the general's store in Dearfoot. Oh, him leave home long time ago. Yes, I know. I heard about the trouble between Kurt and his grandfather. Well, his fellow come into store, make trouble. Me take his gun. Old lady say gun belonged to Kurt. You mean he had a gun that belonged to a Prindle's grandson? That right. Or Abe and his wife. Oh, woman's eyes, not good. Her eyes were failing the last time I heard of her. Is she blind now? That right.  She's a grand woman. Tonto, did you try to locate Kurt through the man who had the gun? A man right away. Did you notice where he went? Well, Tonto trail him a little way. Then come here. Can you pick up the trail? Uh, me do it. Come along then. Kurt belongs to these grandparents. They need him. Here's a little bit. Let's go, Tonto. Get them out of the scoundrels. Red Barton, who had lost Kurt Prindle's gun, hadn't hesitated after leaving the store. He had traveled fast and far, and the trail was much more difficult than Tonto had anticipated. It was a few days later when Barton reached a small shack near the town of Merida. He just mounted and went inside without bothering to wrap in the door. Hi, Barton. I made a fast trip. Yeah. Well, Butch, what'd you do while I was going? Plenty. What? I've been seen to it. We can clear out Pronto when we get ready to move on. What'd you learn over deer foot? Will that do for a hideout when we leave here? Folks over there don't ask too many questions. We can hang around there for a while without any trouble. Good enough. How much your record old Mosby keeps in that safe of his? Quite a bit from what I could find out. Likely a thousand anyway. You figure you can handle Kurt? I can. Where's he at? In the back room. He's waiting for you. I told him you'd be wanting to have a talk. Let her see him and get him straight on things. Howdy, Kurt. See you here, Barton. What kind of game are you on Butch playing? Well, I ask him, Kurt. Are you curious? Yes, I am. You've been asking all kinds of questions about me ever since I lost a few dollars in that poker game. You still owe us the cash. I gave you my favorite six bucks. There wasn't enough. Now, listen, boy, here's what we want you to do. You're working for Mosby and that story is. Keeps a lot of cash in it safe. You're going to open that safe and bring us the cash. Well, I am. Mr. Mosby's been dog-gone good to me, and I don't need him to double-cross you. Kurt. Huh? Would you rather do like we say, or would you rather... Rather what? Mosby's going to lose what's in this safe or lose his life. Now, it's up to you. You mean... You mean... If you don't open the safe, we'll kill Mosby. So which way is it going to be? You open the safe and get the cash, and everything will be all right. But if you're stubborn, there's likely to be shooting. Mr. Mosby killed. And do as you're told. But if I did, he'd be bound to know it was me. Nobody else has that combination with him. That's no concern of ours. He sleeps in the back of his store, doesn't he? Yes, but... There's no but about it. Wait until he's asleep tonight, and then you open the safe. And if you don't, you know what'll happen. You can tell him about us if you want to. Tell old Mosby you opened his safe to save his life. He'd never believe me. Well, that's too bad. You've got from now until tonight to decide if you think enough of Mosby to save his life. The town of Meredith had grown up around the Mosby Emporium. Kirk had learned to like the man he worked for, and that evening he entered the room where his employer slept. Mr. Mosby, I... I've got to speak to you. Well, go ahead, Kirk. Speak up. Don't you feel good? Oh, yes, sir. I feel all right. You know, I'm glad you dropped in. I wanted to talk to you for quite a spell. I sit down, sir. Talk to me? That's right.  I'd like to know you better. No more about you. You never told me anything about your home or your family. Where are they? They live in Dearfoot. Dearfoot, eh? Well, that's not so far from here. A couple of days is all. Why is it you never see them?  I haven't been home since. Oh, that's not good, Kurt. Not good at all. I know that. You said you wanted to speak to me about something. Mr. Mosby, how much cash do you keep in your safe? Oh, I reckon there's about $1,200 there right now. Why do you ask? I... I wonder if you'd lend me that much money. $1,200? Six alive, Kurt. That's a lot of money. I know it is. Why, it's enough to buy a house. You... you're fixin' to get married and settle down? Well, no. Then what, the entire mission? Oh, Mr. Mosby, I can't explain what you'll have to believe me. I've just got to have that cash. Well, sounds like maybe you're in trouble. Is it someone suing you? No. Well, I won't ask questions whether or not wanted. I'll tell you what I'll do. Just give me a little time and I'll think it over. But you don't understand. No, no, lad. Nothing valuable was ever lost by taking time. I'll think it over, as I said. Well, now I reckon I'll say goodnight. Get mighty sleepy. Mr. Mosby, I wish I could tell you... Tell me what? Never mind. I guess it just wouldn't do any good. The curtain falls on the first act of our Lone Ranger story. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. Now to continue our story. The Lone Ranger and Tonto came to the end of their long trail at the shack where Butch and Barton stayed near the town of Meredith. It was on the evening that Kirk was to open the safe in Mosby's Emporium. Trail leads to that shack, Tonto. Can't go any closer with the horses. We'll leave Silver and Scout here. If you hit the ground, we'll go the rest of the way on foot. There's a light in that shack, Tonto. Someone's there. Maybe a fellow we follow, him there. I think so. Come on. Maybe a Kirk Prindle there. I certainly hope so. Tonto, the window on this side is open. Man, good. We can look in. That's right. As the masked man and Tonto near the window, they saw Butch and Barton facing each other across a table in a room that was lighted by a single oil lamp. You see, big fella? Yes. He's the one who made trouble with their foot store. That's right. Maybe a fellow with him, Kirk Prindle. Tonto, I hope not. I don't like his looks. Let's move a little closer. Perhaps we can hear what they say. Kirk, go through with it. You don't like our plans to rob old Mosby? Not that I care whether he likes them or not. He'll do what we want even if he does get blamed for the robbery. He knows we'll shoot Mosby if he backs out. You should know we're not bluffing. Butch, I reckon it won't be long now. We're splitting that Mosby deck. And he won't get us in. Tonto, did you hear that? You hear it. We'll have to act fast. What do we do? I'm not sure, but first, we're going back to the horses and ride to Mosby's. Come on, we'll have to hurry. Kirk Prindle waited until he was sure his employer would be sound asleep. Then he crept through the dark imporium and crouched before the iron safe. Perspiration beaded his forehead as he worked the combination. Open the door and remove the money. I have to get out of here without waking Mr. Mosby. For some reason, the elderly man was restless that night. He lay awake for some time, wondering why Kurt had wanted to borrow $1,200 in cash. Then he thought he heard a sound beyond the door of his room. I wonder... He got up in the darkness and opened the door silently. Kurt's the only one who has a key to the imporium. The moonlight slanting through a window fell directly on the Mosby safe and the door of that safe stood open. Mosby ran to the corner and crouched before his vault. Cash, go on. Kurt was asking for it. He must have stolen it from me. And when else could open this box? Oh, Kurt, I think I trusted you. The Lone Ranger and Tato were approaching the imporium when they saw a young man run away in the moonlight. What's the room? It's got no cover. Tato, it must have been Kurt. That's right. We're too late. He's already taken the cash from the safe. You sure of that? He must have. Mosby will never believe that it was done to save his life. Now what we do? Listen to me, Tato. I have a plan. You said Barton's about as tall as I am. That's right. He's wearing dark clothes and so am I. Oh. What do you do? I'm going into that store. Gonna take a long chance. You go for the sheriff. Tell him he's needed at Mosby's store as fast as he can get there. Tell him Mosby's been robbed. Then tell him to go to Barton's shack. But you... Never mind me. Get going. Get him up, Scout. Easy, big boy. As Tato rode away, the Lone Ranger ran to the store, raced through the open door, and drew a gun on the old man for the safe. Hey, Mosby, you're coming. Good. Good. Hey, Mosby, you're coming. You're not hurt. Hardly. Was it you that robbed this safe? When I looked through the door and saw that you discovered your loss, I thought I'd better come back and warn you. Warn me? Yes. You report this robbery to the sheriff before daybreak. You're going to regret it, because my partner and I will come back. Your partner? Then there's two of you. Yes, two of us. And we mean business. I'll get back to your room and stay there. Tato went to the house of Sheriff Johnson. The lights were out, and the Indian had difficulty waking him. So what's wrong? Fine time of the night. You come to Mosby's store right away. Bad trouble there. Mosby's store isn't even open this time of night. What's wrong with you waking me up like that? You get up. Come with me now. Store's been robbed. Robbed? How do you know? Let me see ma'am come out. Him sneak out a dark store. Well, why didn't you say so? Come on in while I get my boots on. But you hurry. Now listen, I've been sheriff in this town for nigh on to ten years. You don't have to tell me what to do. Hand me that other boot. Here, boot. What did the man look like? Me not see good in dark. Why didn't you grab him or follow him or something? Well, you know where him go. Him go to Breaken Shack. So me come here to get you. I don't know whether to believe that story or not. You're sure you're not connected with this in some way? Well, you come to store right now. We'll go to the store all right. I gotta check up on all this. You're telling me and see if there's really been a robbery. Better help me throw a saddle on my horse. We'll be there in no time. Tonto and the sheriff rode directly to the Emporium. They circled the store and rained off at a door in the rear. Who? Who's that? Who's that? Sam Osby, open the door. Oh, sheriff, thank goodness you're here. I didn't dare go out to get you. These are watching for me to do that. This Indian says you've been robbed. Well, I don't know how he knew it, but it's true. There were two of them. I saw one. He was masked. Let me tell you where you find Pete. Yeah? You know him? Uh-huh. Where's the Indian? Where is he? Speak up. We'll get that cash back in a hurry. Kurt Prindle was in the shack with Butch and Barton. He handed them the stolen money. There.  Maybe. You promised you would.  I don't... Hurry. When the law catches it, you're going to tell them about us? You said I could. Yeah, but we've changed our minds. You do. Maybe we won't leave Mosby alone after all. Butch, I won't say a word. You won't have to worry at all. Just promise you'll leave him to be. Sure, kid. We promise. Barton, I reckon this is just about the easiest pickings we ever found. That you share. Put away. Yep. So, bye. All right, kid. I reckon it's time to clear it out of here. Hey, what the... Mash, man! Go for your guns and I'll let daylight through you. Boy, you... Look out. He's got us covered. Up with your hands. It wasn't the thunder you wanted. Is this a hold-up? No. Kurt, take their guns. I don't say it. Hurry up. All right. That's yours. I've got them. Shoot him, Kurt. Shoot him! He's not going to shoot the man who came here to get him out of trouble. What'd you say? Here's an extra mask. Put it on, Barton. But I don't say... You don't have to. Just do as you're told. He'll get away from me. Stand still, Barton. Very, Kurt. Fasten the mask on him. Right. We'll regret this, Medlin. We'll see. That mask tight? Yeah. Kurt, I know the truth about this. I know these men would have killed Mosby if you hadn't robbed the safe. I'm going to give you a chance to clear yourself and return to your grandparents and their foot. They're waiting for you. Waiting for me? They want you and need you. But I'm a thief. I'm going to be jail. I can't go home. Yes. You're going home. In the meantime, Tonto went with the sheriff and Mosby to the shack. Rain up here. This is what the shack is. It was him and that partner of yours that robbed you, Mosby. They'll get everything they got coming to them. That's a promise. Barton was clever. But it hadn't been for the Indians seeing him. The way he disguised his voice back there at my place, I would never have suspected him. Especially a mask like he was. Get set. We're busting in sudden. Iced your hands, you crooks. The sheriff. Wait. Kurt hasn't covered. The sheriff. Mr. Mosby. The sheriff. He said, Sparton. He still got his mask on. I wasn't near your place. Hey, wait. Listen.  Sheriff, you'll find all the stolen cash in their pockets. I'll send him to jail for a good long spinoff. No way. We've been framed. Then you tell us you're in.  That's better. I'll mark. You're heading for the jail. I'm going for you. Not you, Kurt. The sheriff can handle him. You stay here and tell me all about it. It was several evenings later at the store in Dearfoot. Matilde. Yes, Abe? You know how sometimes you told me it seemed that Kurt was real near to you, even if he wasn't?  Well, tonight? Yes. I feel the same way. I don't know how to explain it, but I've been thinking about Kurt the whole evening. So have I. So have I. And I think that... Matilde. What? What's that? Do you hear it? Hear what? That whistling. And the tune he's whistling. That was always Kurt's favorite tune. And he's whistling it just like Kurt always did. I want to see what's outside. Abe, you're just imagining things. It's a stranger, it must be. That couldn't be our grandson after all this time. I can't help it, Matilde. I'll have to find out. Oh, Kurt. Grandpa. Kurt, oh, Kurt. Grandma, I've come back. I've come back home and I've come back to stay. Oh, Kurt. This is the happiest day of my life. You're mine, too. As long as I live, I'm going to thank a man that made it possible. Who do you mean, Kurt? Well, he somehow found out that you were willing to let me come home and have another chance. Gramps, you've got my word for it. I'm through with Gamlin. I... Well, I... I had a debt that was just too much to pay until the mass man helped me out. What mass man, Kurt? Well, Mr. Mosby called him the Lone Ranger. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.


It's time now for Mountain Music, being brought to you by the Mountain Arts Center, the main stage of the Country Music Highland. Family can be an early musical influence, even if they don't play or sing. One memory that always comes to me is back in the world of cassette tapes. My brother had a Judas Priest, and this is not the style of music I play now obviously, a Judas Priest on one side and a Metallica on the other, and I remember kind of taking that from his possession and laying ownership to it, and I don't think I ever told him that I had it. But I remember my uncle driving us around in a jeep that he had, and he had a John Cougar Mellencamp cassette and a Bruce Springsteen cassette, tops off country roads, and I remember those two albums really changing that made me kind of say, I want to do this. You know, at that point I didn't know what a living was, but I think I wanted to do it for a long time. Sometimes reaching Rock Bottle is the solid foundation to build not only a great song, but a great album. The album's called Berry Who We Are, and it was written in rehab. I convinced the facility that I was in to allow me to have this very guitar, and I skipped lunches and skipped breaks to write. The song that we played is called I Will Rise, and I felt like that was a good bookend to the end of it. It's basically just saying, live your life and do it as good as you can. Be the best you that you can be, because one day we're all going to rise. I wasn't intended to have any sort of meeting behind it other than positivity and just keep it up, whatever you're doing, as long as it's positive and you lead with your heart. I've always felt like you just keep it up and everything's going to be just great. Anthony enjoys all aspects of being an artist. He says there's nothing like playing on stage. There's a lot of satisfaction in it from all those, from being on stage to playing small venues, to being on lengthy tours. It keeps everything so beautifully unstable.  That only I get to see sometimes, and then you put it away. It goes with your guitar back into the case, and you travel again, and it's like you share just a moment. I think that's long story short, that's what it's about, is that moment. It's the one hour and a half moment that you share.