Bringing Home the Fallen: A Journey of Remembrance in Taiwan

In a serene military cemetery tucked away in northern Taiwan, Liu De-wen gently navigates through rooms filled with shelves, before reaching the lowest row. There, he carefully opens a small, ornate gold door and holds an urn close, cradling it in his lap.

“Grandpa Lin, follow me closely,” Liu reassures the urn. “I’m bringing you back home to Fujian, just as you wished. Stay close.”

Inside the jade green urn rests the ashes of Lin Ru Min, a former soldier who experienced a long and complicated life, passing away peacefully at the age of 103 in Taiwan, far removed from his home in Fujian province, China. Liu, a dedicated 58-year-old Taiwanese man, has devoted the last 23 years to reuniting families with the remains of their loved ones, helping hundreds find their way back to China.

Wading Through Historical Waters

Liu’s mission is not merely a personal endeavor; it touches on the intricate history of Taiwan and its complicated relations with the mainland. His work embodies the ongoing battle between familial grief and the political push for reunification by Beijing.

The story of Lin began at the end of China’s civil war in the late 1940s, when he was forcibly conscripted by the Nationalist Kuomintang (KMT) troops. He was a young fisherman at the time, living with his wife and five children in Fujian, when the chaos changed the trajectory of his life forever. Liu relays that Lin was among many seized by troops as they retreated from the mainland.

“Tens of thousands faced this fate,” explains Dominic Meng-Hsuan Yang, a historian at the University of Missouri. “Many communities suffered severe loss, with large numbers of men taken away by KMT forces.”

Under Chiang Kai-shek’s leadership, the KMT brought somewhere between one to two million affiliated individuals, labeled waishengren, to Taiwan, including soldiers, civil servants, and conscripts like Lin. Chiang aimed to regroup in Taiwan and ultimately reclaim the mainland, but such aspirations were never realized, resulting in a four-decade era of strict martial law.

Only in the late 1980s were travel restrictions eased, yet the window of opportunity for most veterans to return home had closed, as only about 2% ever made the journey back. The homes they once knew had transformed dramatically over the decades, leading most veterans to settle into new lives in Taiwan.

A Lifelong Wish Forged in Memory

Before he passed away, Lin expressed a heartfelt desire to rest in Fujian, prompting his family to seek Liu’s help. Liu, an energetic man from Kaohsiung, has become a key figure in reuniting these divided families with their ancestors. His journey into this work began in his 30s when he settled in a village primarily composed of KMT veterans.

“Over 2,000 single veterans lived in my community,” Liu explains. “They yearned for their families back home, especially during the Chinese New Year when they would sit quietly, reminiscing about their roots. Their heartfelt requests drove me to help them find peace.”

His search for long-forgotten graves often takes him through Taiwan’s mountainous terrains. Whether they were soldiers or civilians who came to Taiwan seeking opportunities, he is committed to unearthing the memories buried in the past.

Bringing Dignity and Respect

Upon locating the correct grave, Liu meticulously manages the necessary documentation before lifting the urn and carrying it to China. He treats each urn with profound respect, often traveling with it nestled in a backpack worn against his chest.

“This is not a mere object; it embodies a life and a soul,” he states earnestly. His social media showcases images of the urn traveling in its own seat, even tucked into a twin bed at his hotel—reminders of the humanity behind each journey.

Liu does not charge families for his services, deliberately distancing himself from those who do. Although he does not disclose his funding sources, he has garnered attention from both Taiwanese and Chinese media, where he has been honored as a “ferryman of the souls.”

Yet Liu’s work is not without political implications. While many empathize with the aging soldiers cut off from their homeland, his endeavors are sometimes framed within the context of Beijing’s unification narrative—an angle that does not resonate with many in Taiwan.

Building Bridges for Peace

Amid the complexities of identity and political sentiment, Liu believes in the shared heritage of the people from both sides of the strait. His motivations transcend political agendas; he simply wants to be a bridge for these veterans, helping them return home.

After gathering Lin’s ashes, he offers blessings and records a message for Lin’s family, wrapping the urn in traditional red and gold as it prepares for the journey to Fujian. Her eyes glisten with tears as Chen expresses her hope for their safe return.

“We are heading home,” she declares. “Mr. Liu, please ensure you bring him back safely.”