When Mark Thomas was born in 1946, he was given an unusual middle name: Aylwin. It was the same name carried by his uncle, George Aylwin Hogg—the young British journalist who came to China during World War II (WWII), chronicled its struggles, exposed Japanese wartime atrocities, rescued and educated Chinese youth, and ultimately gave his life here at the age of just 30.  

Thomas never met his uncle, yet the name tied them together. “It means wise friend or noble friend,” Thomas told Beijing Review. “And he certainly did become a wise and noble friend of China.” 

Decades later, as Thomas followed in Hogg’s footsteps, walking through the cave house in Shaanxi Province where Hogg once lived, reading his uncle’s letters, he felt as if he was him. It was in these personal moments, where family memory and lived history connect, that Mark realized why his uncle’s story must be told—not just in China, where George is remembered with statues and memorial halls, but across the world where his true story remains little known. 

Mark Aylwin Thomas (ZHANG QINZHENG)

A noble friend 

Hogg was born in 1915 into a middle-class family in Harpenden, England, and came to China in the late 1930s after graduating from the University of Oxford. Witnessing the horrors committed by the Japanese army in cities such as Shanghai, Nanjing and Wuhan, he wrote reports for outlets including the United Press Association and The Manchester Guardian, detailing the devastation inflicted upon China.  

Unlike many foreign correspondents of the time, who focused mainly on military strategies and political maneuverings, Hogg’s writing approached ordinary Chinese people—how they suffered, survived and endured the war with determination. 

Recognizing his talent and integrity, senior Chinese leaders such as General Nie Rongzhen and Marshal Zhu De personally encouraged him to travel widely across China and tell its true story to the world, according to Thomas. Hogg did just that, reporting faithfully from the grassroots.    

At the same time, he worked closely with international allies such as New Zealander Rewi Alley and American journalists Edgar and Helen Snow, becoming deeply involved in the Gong He (Gung Ho) movement of industrial cooperatives. These cooperatives, established in unoccupied areas, gave unemployed workers and refugees a way to produce both military and civilian goods for China’s war effort. Hogg’s articles also helped rally international support for the movement. 

But it was through his role as an educator that Hogg grew even closer to the people. Together with Alley, he helped set up schools that enrolled poor rural youth and taught them practical skills so they could later join cooperatives. As headmaster of the Bailie School in Shuangshipu, Shaanxi Province, he became a father-like figure to his students. “Always with a smile and encouragement, never harsh orders,” Thomas said. “He worked with them, not above them.” Hogg even adopted four orphaned brothers, who regarded him as the man who saved their lives.  

In 1944, to protect his students from the war, Hogg led more than 60 of them—along with tons of teaching equipment—on a treacherous trek from Shaanxi to Shandan in Gansu Province, where they continued their work in the desert. It was a legendary journey that cemented his place in the hearts of those he led.  

Tragically, on July 22, 1945, just weeks before the end of WWII, George Hogg died of tetanus in Shandan at the age of 30.   

For Thomas, his uncle’s legacy is profound. The family gave him the middle name Aylwin, the same as George’s. During his visit to China, Thomas recalled being told a saying: “If you give a person a name, he or she will become that name.”  

An exhibition commemorating British journalist and educator George Hogg in Harpenden, England, on July 22. Hogg dedicated his life to supporting China’s war against Japanese aggression 80 years ago (XINHUA) 

A story that goes on 

A new connection to his Uncle George began unexpectedly in 1988, during a visit to China. Thomas was invited by Gansu to play the role of Hogg in a TV series. To prepare, Thomas immersed himself in his uncle’s world—reading Hogg’s handwritten letters, studying documents and speaking with his aunt, then Hogg’s only surviving sibling. 

“The more I read, the closer I felt to him,” Thomas recalled. “When it came to acting, I almost became him. I really felt I was stepping into his life.” That experience planted the seed for a biography about his uncle. In the 1990s, Thomas began writing, convinced that Hogg’s remarkable story had to be told in full. 

That conviction grew stronger in 2015, when the Hollywood film The Children of Huang Shi, which is about George Hogg was released. “The movie strayed so far from the truth,” Thomas said. “There were lots of explosions, romance and Hollywood inventions. But the real story was much richer.” Determined to set the record straight, Thomas published Blades of Grass: The Story of George Aylwin Hogg in 2017.    

In his book, Thomas traced Hogg’s family background, his journey from the UK to China and the qualities that made him such an extraordinary figure. Hogg’s greatest gift, Thomas believes, was his ability to build respect and understanding across cultures. “That’s how he achieved so much in such a short life,” he explained. “And that’s still the key today—for any international relationship to move forward, each side must try to understand the other’s culture and outlook. Without that, conversation becomes an uphill struggle.” 

Thomas has found himself even more deeply engaged with Hogg’s legacy in recent years, particularly as various anniversaries and commemorations have been held. He has given lectures in both China and the UK, aiming to bring Hogg’s story—and China’s wartime experience—to wider audiences. 

Part of his mission, Thomas says, is to help people outside China better understand the country’s modern history. “During those war years, there were many journalists reporting from China,” he noted. “But in the West, much of that news was buried under the weight of Europe’s own struggles. China felt too far away for people to grasp what was happening.”