L ast year marked the 100th birthday of my late father， Richard Frey. During his 84-year lifetime， he was a member of the Communist Party of China for 60 years， apart from the years he held a membership of the Austrian Communist Party. He was truly an old Bolshevik.
　　My father was born into a well-off middle-class family in Vienna， Austria. As the only child， he was taken good care of and loved by my grandparents during his childhood and adolescence. Despite his joyous and carefree life， he had natural sympathy for the weak from an early age， always caring for his classmates in trouble and ready to help neighbors.
　　A few years ago， an old classmate of my father’s recalled： “My dad suffered Parkinson’s disease， and every time I took him to the hospital， I was late for class. After Richard learned about my difficulty， he used his bicycle to take my father to the hospital for more than a year.”
　　His caring showed in other ways： After my father studied medicine， his professor wrote in the internship ap- praisal， “The intern does not mind touching the limbs of patients with severe skin diseases.”
　　During the war， my father often used his allowances to improve the diets of the seriously wounded and gave his mosquito net to the sick and wounded. In his later years， his sympathetic nature remained unchanged. He was always keen to help grassroots people in need， funding out-of-school children in mountainous areas to help them return to school and making donations to Hope Primary Schools in the old revolutionary base areas of China.

　　My father was originally an underground member of the Austrian Communist Party. In 1933， Adolf Hitler took office as Reich chancellor of Germany and Austria and began his fascist dictatorship. The ACP was forced to disband and went underground. The Scout， a youth progressive organization my father had joined at that time， fractured into two parties hostile to each other. In 1934， a civil war broke out in Austria. The Social Democrats and the working class who were fighting for democracy and freedom launched an armed struggle against the authoritarian government forces.
　　My father， who supported the Social Democrats， joined a few boy scouts to take part in the famous battle of Karl-Marx-Hof in Vienna， carrying ammunition for the revolutionary forces and helping doctors bandage wounded fighters. After four days of fierce fighting， the revolutionary forces were cruelly suppressed by government troops. My father was motivated by the blood spilled by the working class and determined to fight all his life for fairness and justice for the public. 　　After the civil war， he secretly joined the Youth Organization led by the ACP and took part in the first-aid training for war injuries it organized. In 1937， after receiving some publicity materials about the Soviet Bolsheviks from his friends who were ACP members studying in the Chemistry Department of Vienna University， he gained a deeper understanding of the communist revolution in theory. Together with progressive students， he put up posters and distributed leaflets encouraging people to rise up against autocratic rule. Soon afterward， he secretly joined the underground ACP organization.
　　After that， he became more active in various underground activities against fascism， but he was discovered by the Gestapo and blacklisted. One day in December 1938， the underground ACP told him to leave Vienna immediately because a warrant had been issued for his arrest by the Gestapo. At that time， almost all retreating members of the ACP chose to go to the United States and Britain. My father chose to go to China without hesitation because he learned at school that the CPC had an army of its own. He was determined to find the army and take part in the Chinese People’s War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression to continue fighting for the final victory as part of the global united front against fascism.
　　After arriving in China in January 1939， my father went from Shanghai to Tianjin， and from Tianjin to Beijing and Shundefu （now Xingtai， Hebei province）， looking for the CPC’s army. In 1941， he took part in activities against Japanese aggression in Tianjin and finally got the message from the CPC underground organization in Beiping[today’s Beijing] that Commander Nie Rongzhen of the Eighth Route Army’s Shanxi-Chahar-Hebei Command had invited him to work in the anti-Japanese base area.
　　At the end of autumn that year， and with the help and cover of the liaison man of the CPC underground organization in Beiping， he risked his life to go through the Japanese blockade to the Shanxi-Chahar-Hebei anti-Japanese battlefront， which had just been raided by the Japanese army. Since leaving Austria， it had taken him nearly three years to finally find the Eighth Route Army， led by the CPC， and he felt as if he had returned home and found his destination.
　　During a cordial conversation with Nie Rongzhen， he expressed his ardent wish to join the CPC as soon as possible. Nie wrote him a letter in English on April 16， 1942， on the eve of the Japanese “May 1 Raid” on the ShanxiChahar-Hebei base area， telling him politely that because of wartime conditions， it was impossible for him to carry a recommendation letter from the ACP on his way to China. Under the regulations of the CPC and after careful consideration by the Party organization， for the time being it wasn’t practical for him to take part in the CPC’s activities in the base area. Nie hoped that my father would prove himself to be a strong and loyal communist through his deeds in battle. 　　On the anti-Japanese battlefront， my father was appointed as medical guidance commissioner of the ShanxiChahar-Hebei Military Command， front-line doctor and medical schoolteacher. He fought for three years on the anti-Japanese battlefront， where Canadian doctor Norman Bethune and Indian doctor Kwarkanath S. Kotnis also worked. He took part in many brutal battles and guerrilla warfare campaigns against the Japanese， treated numerous wounded officers and soldiers， trained a lot of Eighth Route Army doctors and medical workers and effectively controlled the spread of malaria in the area with a treatment integrating traditional Chinese and Western medicine. His work helped immensely to reduce and avoid casualties. He experienced a severe test， a life-and-death struggle， on the anti-Japanese battlefront. On Nov 21， 1944， as recommended by Nie Rongzhen and approved by Peng Zhen， who was then minister of the Organization Department of the CPC， my father， a member of the ACP， at last joined the CPC and realized his long-cherished wish. He also listened to speeches at the 7th National Congress of the CPC held in Yan’an in 1945.
　　Shortly after my father joined the CPC， China won the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression. At that time， most of the fighters for internationalism supporting China departed one after another and returned to their hometowns. This time my father once again chose China. He decided to stay to participate in the War of Liberation and continued fighting for the Chinese nation. In 1949， he took part in the Beiping-Tianjin Campaign and was stationed in Chongqing with the southward-advancing army. Together with the people of the country at large， he witnessed victory in the War of Liberation and the founding of the People’s Republic of China.
　　In the early years of the republic， the situation both at home and abroad was severe and complex. Most foreigners living and working in China left the country with their families. At this time， my father once again chose China as his second homeland and became a Chinese citizen. He stayed on to work and live in the country he loved for 65 years and helped to build it up.
　　In his 65-year revolutionary career in China， my father traveled from south to north， and from the army to lo- cal areas. Whether serving as an army doctor， a lecturer， a professor， scientific researcher， government official， institute director， adviser to the Academy of Sciences or a member of the National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference， he was always meticulous， hardworking and devoted to his duties. 　　After 1949， he was mainly engaged in scientific research， teaching and administrative work， but he never forgot that he was a doctor. When meeting a patient， he instinctively stepped forward to express his concerns and inquire about the situation. Whenever someone came for medical advice —be they farmers in the old revolutionary base areas， boiler workers， nannies， drivers， friends， colleagues， old comrades in arms or their relatives， or the people who were attracted by his reputation and introduced by another —he would always respond with enthusiasm， carefully examine and inquire， give medical advice and recommend a hospital for treatment. He would also track the results of treatment. Over the decades， he helped save countless lives.
　　As a Chinese revolutionary of Austrian origin， my father was self-disciplined and low-key all his life. Apart from being strict with himself， he also treated his children as no exception. In 1968， on his return to Beijing from abroad， I went to the Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences to ask his driver， Uncle Wang， to take me to the Beijing Railway Station to pick him up. He gave me a sharp rebuke and made it a rule that I was not allowed to use the car assigned to him by the country when he was away.
　　He often told me that the Communist revolution was originally for the public， not for himself or his family. Later， when I went to the countryside as an “educated youth”， he expressed a desire for me to be a farmer all my life. When I joined a grassroots unit of the army， he encouraged me to stay on the frontier forever. Neither I nor any of my siblings depended on our parent for an official career.

　　During his 65-year stay in China， my father underwent not only political hardships， but also natural disasters， illness and family separation. In the late 1950s， China was hit by a serious natural disaster. My father was a tall man， over 6 feet 2 inches. At that time， his monthly food supply was only 10.5 kilograms， which was not enough for him. I was in a stage of physical development and often didn’t get enough to eat. He would save the steamed bread he had in the canteen of the municipal Party committee and bring it home for me， while he himself would eat some food substitutes， such as glabrous greenbrier rhizome. My father was not in the best of health and only had one functioning kidney. During this period， he often suffered symptoms of hematuria and edema， and was admitted to the hospital. 　　When the three-year natural disaster was still in progress， there came the sad news that my grandfather had passed away in Vienna. My father had not seen his parents since leaving them at the age of 18 or 19， and the death of my grandfather really hit him hard. Due to my early age， I didn’t know what to do as I observed him at home depressed and speechless. In 1962， approved by the Central Committee of the CPC， my father returned to his hometown of Vienna for the first time in 24 years. He visited my grandmother， who had not seen him for nearly a quarter-century and was now living alone.
　　At that time， some people in China thought that Richard Frey would never come back. According to their speculation， my father had gone through some political hardships in China over the years， his job had been transferred and his happy family was broken. Meanwhile， as China was in a difficult period of natural disasters， the material richness and job stability of the Western world would certainly be very attractive to him， they thought. Some of his classmates and friends in Vienna also hoped that he would return to Austria to start a new life and work， and my lonely grandmother asked him to come back to her.
　　However， my father chose to return to China without any hesitation. He was not a flip-flopper. His roots were deeply embedded in the very land of the People’s Republic of China， which he had helped to found. There he had buried many of his closest comrades who had sacrificed their lives during the war for the cause to which he had also devoted his youth. Not only did he return to Chongqing on schedule but a few years later he brought my grandmother to China.
　　My father was a fighter for international communism. Being unfairly treated and distrusted for many years， he felt depressed in both his work and daily life. But in those days of being sidelined， he never wavered or gave up despite feeling miserable and lonely and keeping silent. He experienced firsthand the Chinese people’s victories in the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression and the War of Liberation； and he saw how the unity of CPC leaders， the people of all ethnic groups and the democratic parties throughout the country had built China from a poor country into a strong socialist country with initial prosperity. He firmly believed in the Party， gave no thought to personal gain or loss and continued working tenaciously on the land he had chosen.
　　During his 65 years of working and living in China， he went through many ups and downs， but at every critical moment， he chose China without hesitation. In his senior years， as China began its process of reform and opening-up， my father also enjoyed the second spring of his political life. He was reappointed by the State Council as an adviser to the Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences and elected as a member of the National Committee of the CPPCC for four consecutive terms， giving him more opportunities to contribute his final strength to China.
　　In 2004， my father’s health was rapidly deteriorating at Peking Union Medical College Hospital. My sister and I thought Austria might provide better treatment for my father than China. We contacted a classmate of his， a famous senior medical expert in Austria， and discussed taking him to Vienna for treatment. But my father insisted on staying in China to the end of his life and left a will donating his remains to the Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences. He chose China for the last time， just as he did 65 years ago.
　　His most valuable trait was persistence. All his life， he adhered to the faith of a communist， the principles of a doctor treating patients and saving lives and the will to devote a lifetime to his second homeland. That November， he died in Beijing. At his funeral， his body was covered under the bright red flag of the CPC.
　　My father， Richard Frey， will be remembered as a brave fighter for internationalism and as a determined old Bolshevik.