Page 113 - GFA – A Different Drumbeat
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GFA – A Different Drumbeat 113
Henry was happy to discover that Gustaf, who knew the culture and language like a
native, was going his direction. What better companion to have along, as he too
carried a substantial amount of money and even some gold. As they set out on that
fateful trip on July 22, 1932, neither man knew the danger that awaited them farther
down the road. Nor did they realize this would be their last ride. . . .
The China International Famine Relief Commission initiated a program of giving the
stricken people work. The commission would pay laborers to build roads that could
be used by motorized vehicles. Since it paid the laborers in cash, they needed a
trustworthy manager to handle the funds. Gustaf was asked to serve as supervisor
for the Kansu region. Sensing the relief the work program would bring the people,
Gustaf gladly accepted. In this role Gustaf gained the admiration of the people and a
wide reputation. “He was able, cautious and warmhearted, and a true missionary.
Farmers and officials had the greatest respect for him” said 0. J. Todd, the chief
engineer. . . .
Forewarned and well aware of potential danger, Gustaf, Henry, and two others
started their two-hundred-mile journey by car. They traveled most of that day and
spent the night at the village of Li Chuan on the banks of the Wei River. The
following morning they crossed the river by ferry. A ferry crossing in the opposite
direction had an English Baptist missionary on it, and Gustaf carried on a
conversation with him until they were out of earshot. That was the last time they were
seen by anyone acquainted with them. Gustaf and his companions were never heard
from again. They seemed to have simply vanished!
The fate of Gustaf can only be pieced together by fairly reliable Chinese accounts of
those who encountered them farther along the way. According to these stories, just a
few miles north of Sian, six Chinese soldiers stopped the car. Villagers saw the men
taken by the soldiers to a house where they were detained for the rest of the day. It
soon became clear that these were renegade soldiers out to rob the foreigners. We
don’t know what Gustaf may have said to his captors as he tried to reason with them
for his life. But one can envision him pointing out that he was “a son of the soil”, “a
religious teacher”, or “there helping the people”. However, all was to no avail.
At dusk the car was driven out into a field, its headlights drawing the notice of a local
farmer who was still working close by. Sensing something sinister, the farmer kept a
watch but did not get too near, as there were about thirty armed men on horseback
escorting the vehicle. Moments later he heard a volley of gunshots which startled
him. He then heard someone cry “There is still one more”, and then two more shots.
It seems certain that Gustaf Ekvall, and the other two had been summarily executed.
Their bodies were never recovered.
When news of Gustaf’s murder reached Pingliang, it evoked an outcry and
expression of sorrow so deep that all levels of the community decried his death with
Henry was happy to discover that Gustaf, who knew the culture and language like a
native, was going his direction. What better companion to have along, as he too
carried a substantial amount of money and even some gold. As they set out on that
fateful trip on July 22, 1932, neither man knew the danger that awaited them farther
down the road. Nor did they realize this would be their last ride. . . .
The China International Famine Relief Commission initiated a program of giving the
stricken people work. The commission would pay laborers to build roads that could
be used by motorized vehicles. Since it paid the laborers in cash, they needed a
trustworthy manager to handle the funds. Gustaf was asked to serve as supervisor
for the Kansu region. Sensing the relief the work program would bring the people,
Gustaf gladly accepted. In this role Gustaf gained the admiration of the people and a
wide reputation. “He was able, cautious and warmhearted, and a true missionary.
Farmers and officials had the greatest respect for him” said 0. J. Todd, the chief
engineer. . . .
Forewarned and well aware of potential danger, Gustaf, Henry, and two others
started their two-hundred-mile journey by car. They traveled most of that day and
spent the night at the village of Li Chuan on the banks of the Wei River. The
following morning they crossed the river by ferry. A ferry crossing in the opposite
direction had an English Baptist missionary on it, and Gustaf carried on a
conversation with him until they were out of earshot. That was the last time they were
seen by anyone acquainted with them. Gustaf and his companions were never heard
from again. They seemed to have simply vanished!
The fate of Gustaf can only be pieced together by fairly reliable Chinese accounts of
those who encountered them farther along the way. According to these stories, just a
few miles north of Sian, six Chinese soldiers stopped the car. Villagers saw the men
taken by the soldiers to a house where they were detained for the rest of the day. It
soon became clear that these were renegade soldiers out to rob the foreigners. We
don’t know what Gustaf may have said to his captors as he tried to reason with them
for his life. But one can envision him pointing out that he was “a son of the soil”, “a
religious teacher”, or “there helping the people”. However, all was to no avail.
At dusk the car was driven out into a field, its headlights drawing the notice of a local
farmer who was still working close by. Sensing something sinister, the farmer kept a
watch but did not get too near, as there were about thirty armed men on horseback
escorting the vehicle. Moments later he heard a volley of gunshots which startled
him. He then heard someone cry “There is still one more”, and then two more shots.
It seems certain that Gustaf Ekvall, and the other two had been summarily executed.
Their bodies were never recovered.
When news of Gustaf’s murder reached Pingliang, it evoked an outcry and
expression of sorrow so deep that all levels of the community decried his death with
