My name is Wang Chan, I have served as a Banner Soldier for the great Emperor K’ang Shi for most of my life. I have helped to build the Quing Dynasty to the height which it now enjoys. I have seen the ugly face of war first hand multiple times and traveled to the ends of the great empire. I have seen the scorching Gobi desert, the barren lands of Mongolia, the mountains of Tibet, and the humid lush lands of the southeast. I saw with my own eyes the dead body of the notorious Galdan. I am proud to say that I have served in the prestigious plain yellow banner division for ten years.
I was born in Beijing on March 3rd, 1682. My father just like his father before him and his father before that was a Banner Soldier. He had served honorably for the emperor for many years and became an officer due to his courage and dedication. He had fought to put the Quing Dynasty into place in Beijing. He was actually part of the force which marched into Beijing and took the capital. My father would tell me war stories when I was a child and talk of all the glory and ck eternity for men which was to be had on the battlefield as a Banner Soldier. He taught me how to ride a horse before I could even walk. I was practicing archery ever since I was strong enough to hold a bow. My father would take me hunting with him in order to hone my war skills. Hunting is a time honored Manchu tradition. The hunt is important in refining military skills and keeping oneself sharp and ready for battle. In the army we actually go hunting as part of our training during peace time. Ever since I could remember I knew I would become a Banner Soldier.
My father always told me how important it was that we do not forget our Manchu traditions such as hunting and horse riding. He says that the strength of the Manchu race has always been in the superb abilities of its Banner Soldiers. He always warned me of becoming fat and lazy like the Han Chinese which we lived around. He would talk of wanting to move back to Manchuria for fear that his children would become soft like the Chinese. He said that he could not respect a society that valued an average rice farmer over a soldier. This is the reason, he would say, that China fell so easily to the us Manchus. He said that the Chinese were so busy trying to memorize old Confucian classics that they probably didn’t even notice the fall of their empire. My father was a stern proud man, proud to be a banner soldier, proud to have fought for the glory of the Qing dynasty, and even more proud to be a Manchu. He was always afraid that by living in China the Manchu people were becoming weak to clavin klein euphoria for men. He complained that Manchu culture was being diluted by the influence of Han Chinese. There were becoming too many Manchu farmers, too many Manchu children were growing up speaking only Chinese. He always warned that the adoption of Chinese ideals would lead to the fall of the Quing Dynasty. There was a reason, he would argue, that the Ming dynasty fell, they were soft and they were weak, and the Manchus would become soft and weak as well if they were to loose their strong Manchu culture.