They were daughters, sisters, and mothers – some barely sixteen. They carried the wounded through snow-capped mountains, huddled together for warmth in the marshes, and kept marching when their legs bled. Most never made it home. But the spirit of these Chinese women Red Army soldiers did not die with them. It lives on in a son's paintings, in the work of contemporary artists, and in the quiet streets of Wangcang, where daily life still flows through the same lanes that once echoed with their footsteps.