War is cruel, but the deep friendship between comrades-in-arms can transcend time, and even become clearer and clearer under the washing of time, making people dream back at night.
When I was very young, my father told the story of the battle of the First Regiment of the People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army (commonly known as the Old First Regiment) on the South Road where he was located, saying that several of his comrades-in-arms died in the battle of 100,000 mountains, and they were buried here for a long time, looking at their hometown from afar.
During the Anti-Japanese War, my father participated in the South Road People's Anti-Japanese Guerrilla Force to fight against the Japanese invaders. On January 19, 1945, the South Road People's Anti-Japanese Guerrilla Force was reorganized into the South Road People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army in accordance with the instructions of the South Road Special Committee, which was the earliest "People's Liberation Army" number used by our army, and my father also became a glorious PLA soldier.
After the victory of the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, the Kuomintang reactionaries refused to recognize the anti-Japanese armed forces led by the Communist Party in South China, including the South Road, and fought each other in arms, and the troops of the 175th and 188th Divisions of the 46th Kuomintang Army, the 156th Division of the 64th Army, and the newly formed 19th Division, as well as the Leizhou Independent Advance Detachment and the Kuomintang Leizhou Garrison, rushed to the revolutionary base area on the South Road with murderous violation.
Due to the huge disparity in the strength of the enemy and us, the 1st Regiment of the Main Regiment of the People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army on the South Road avoided the opponent's edge and marched west to the 100,000 mountains, but the Kuomintang reactionaries pursued them with all their might, and the main force of a regular brigade in Guangdong and two security regiments in Guangxi outflanked them in a vigorous manner. The old regiment trekked through mountains and rivers, broke out of the encirclement, and in the transfer of troops, several comrades-in-arms died in the 100,000 mountains, buried their bones in the green mountains, and their loyal souls remained forever.
Many years later, Mr. Fang Zhi, who lives in Qinzhou, Guangxi, and is also a descendant of the old group, told me that there are the graves of two martyrs of the old group on the two mountains on the edge of Nahuan Village in Guitai Town, Qinzhou, called Opposite Ridge and Yingling, and three martyrs are buried in the tripe ridge not far away.
Since then, I have been worried about my heart, and I have been haunted by the tombs of several martyrs in the 100,000 mountains. On March 5, 2023, I set off for Qinzhou, which was my first time in Qinzhou, but as soon as I set foot on this land, I was always filled with an inexplicable excitement in my heart.
When I heard that I had made a special trip from the Leizhou Peninsula to Qinzhou to pay respects to the martyrs' tombs, Mr. Fang Zhi, who was on a business trip in Yunnan, immediately drove back to Qinzhou to wait for me; I heard that I am a descendant of the old group, and Mr. Huang Songwen of Dunmin Village, Dasi Town, whom I never met, drove a van; Mr. Huang Huanhong of Dunmin Village was suffering from cerebral infarction, and despite the dissuasion of his family, he came to Qinzhou with Mr. Huang Songwen to pick me up. In 1945, the old group rested in Dunmin Village, and was warmly received and supported by all the villagers.
Our car winded more than 50 kilometers between the mountains and mountains, and stopped in the open space in front of the Hetang House in the village.
Step by step, I walked into the 100,000 mountains, into the place where my father and his comrades-in-arms threw their youthful blood, I slowly stretched out my palm, and touched the history that is not so long but people can't bear to look back.
Travel back in time to that cold night in December 1945. The main force of a regular brigade of the Kuomintang reactionaries in Guangdong and two security regiments in Guangxi attacked Guitai overnight, and it was raining heavily, and the old regiment was forced to move out of Guitai in the rain and advance in the direction of Niu Tripe Ridge. Wang Xulin, leader of the Madushan guerrilla group, and Zeng Zuohu, head of the underground revolutionary transportation station and a native of Nahuan Village, led the revolutionary masses to settle the seriously wounded and sick to rest on the dry straw in the straw shed in front of the Hetang House.
The next day, that is, the day of the Battle of Niudouling, a wounded and sick man who was recuperating in the straw shed in front of the Hetang House unfortunately died. Zeng Zuohu avoided the eyes and ears of the enemy, and invited a few reliable villagers to carry the martyrs to the southeast of the village called the opposite ridge for burial.
After the Battle of Niubeling, the old regiment entrusted six seriously wounded and sick to Lu Wen, the head of the local party organization, and political commissar Tang Caiyou also left living expenses for the seriously wounded and sick. In a grim situation, in a barren mountain village, the Kuomintang reactionaries were still hunting down Communists everywhere. In the face of the enemy's dragnet search of the mountain, the local party organization led the revolutionary masses to carry six seriously wounded and sick people to hide, and on the way they encountered bandits on the paper bamboo mountain, and the living expenses of the seriously wounded and sick were looted.
In the end, Wang Xulin and Zeng Zuohu decided to arrange for the revolutionary masses to carry the six wounded and sick back to Nahuan Village, more than 20 miles away, and together with the first four wounded and sick, they were placed in an abandoned brick kiln in the west of the village to recuperate**. Behind the brick kiln is a big mountain, which is usually rarely visited and is well hidden. The villagers cooked porridge with a small amount of rice for the wounded and sick, took care of them, and took turns to watch them 24 hours a day. But in this poor mountainous area, there were no doctors, the environment was extremely poor, and soon another wounded and sick died.
Enduring their grief, the local party organization led the villagers to carry the martyrs over a big mountain behind the brick kiln and bury the martyrs on Yingling Mountain.
When this history was told by the elderly locals, it was sad and calm, because the locals spoke Hakka, and I had some difficulty listening to it, just as they couldn't understand the Leizhou dialect spoken by the wounded and sick. After questioning many people, the local party organization only knew that the two martyrs were the "communists" of the old regiment, one was from Suixi, Guangdong Province, and the other was Japanese, so they could no longer find more detailed information about the martyrs who had died.
The locals pointed to the 100,000 mountains in the distance and said, "The martyrs' tombs are all on the mountain."
Yes, they are all on the mountain, as long as the green mountains are not old, the loyal souls of the martyrs will always be there, guarding this land.
I thought that although the mountain road could not be driven by car, at least there was a road that could accommodate people, or there were stone steps, but this opposite ridge was steep and rugged, full of dense wild plants, dense and impermeable, there was no road at all, and if you wanted to go, you had to open the road first. Mr. Zeng Shanke, director of the village committee of Nahuan Village, brandished a mountain knife and kept opening the way in front.
The spring day in March is also like fire, and the mountains are as hot as a steamer. Our group was grasping a branch of a shrub, using our hands and feet together, climbing cautiously, not daring to be distracted at all. Everyone reminded each other: "Seize here." "I'll pull you. "I didn't dare to speak more, everyone was out of breath.
I didn't know how long I climbed, and I heard the director of Zeng Shanke who led the way say that this was the place, so I raised my head, and the jungle was still dense in front of me, and the cliffs were in front of me. Mr. Zeng Shanzhong, director of the Zeng Shanke section and Mr. Zeng Zuozhong, the son of the head of the Madushan Underground Transportation Station, who was responsible for taking care of the wounded and sick and paying for the burial of the martyrs, affirmed that not long ago, Ms. Li Guoping, a descendant of the old regiment and former deputy director of the Standing Committee of the Suixi County People's Congress in Guangdong Province, led the film crew of the Suixi County TV station "Centennial Suixi" to visit and sweep the scene.
Director Zeng Shanke also said that when he was young, two elders in the village who were born in 1933 told him that there was a "Communist Party grave" next to this cattle road, and that there were soldiers who shed blood and sacrificed their lives for our beautiful peaceful life. Not far away, there is an same "Communist grave" on Eagle Ridge. Because the villagers were not literate at that time, they did not write down which martyr's tomb was a Japanese martyr and which was a Suixi martyr, Director Zeng said slowly, with endless regret in his tone.
Standing in the dense mountain forest, we looked at the martyrs' tombs without mounds in front of us, and at this moment, I couldn't believe my eyes. Director Zeng Shanke wielded a knife to cut down a dense wild tree, and after a while, he was sweating profusely, which was a physically demanding job. Mr. Fang Zhi took the mountain knife, and Mr. Huang Songwen took the mountain knife again, and it took a long time to cut through the two-meter-square hillside. Mr. Huang Huanhong struggled to kneel on the ground, digging away the weeds, and the red soil on the martyr's tomb was exposed. Mr. Wong, with his inflexible legs, ran far away to find a stone and placed it on top of the martyr's tomb. Only then did I notice that there was not even a small pebble on the tomb of the martyr. According to local customs, Mr. Zeng Shanzhong pressed a piece of red paper on the head of the martyr's tomb with a stone brought by Mr. Huang, and then respectfully inserted incense on the head of the tomb and placed a teacup, but it was difficult to stabilize the teacup on the uneven hillside. As if I had woken up from my sleep, I straightened the teacup with Mr. Zeng Shanzhong, served the tea, and lit the incense.
Everyone bowed to the martyr's tomb and spoke to the martyr in Mandarin, Cantonese, and Hakka.
Uncle, Uncle......I was able to speak, muttering in Leizhou dialect, tears sliding down my cheeks, I choked up, and couldn't say anything else for a while.
The villagers said that for the first time in 78 years, there were people who spoke Leizhou dialect to worship.
Uncle, whether you are an uncle of Suixi or a Japanese uncle, you can understand Leizhou dialect. I am the daughter of your comrade-in-arms, I made a special trip to see you from the Leizhou Peninsula, my father is Wu Furui, the secretary of the third battalion and the eighth company of the first regiment of the People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army on the South Road, you must still remember. ”
My father said that during the Anti-Japanese War, a Japanese commander took the initiative to surrender to our army. This Japanese commander Cao saw the Japanese army under the banner of the "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere" burning, killing, plundering and plundering the land of China, and killing the Chinese people completely, and the tragedy was unbeatable, especially the cruelty and rudeness of his superiors, which made this hot-blooded soldier who was originally dedicated to serving the motherland extremely disappointed. The strict discipline of our army, the equality and friendliness of officers and soldiers deeply moved this Japanese commander Cao, and he began to learn to speak Leizhou dialect with his comrades in the old regiment, and integrated himself into the squadron, like a fish in water. When my father recalled this paragraph, he would always be full of emotion, saying that the Japanese Cao Chang had very good military skills and was proficient in all kinds of firearms, and he patiently taught our army to use all kinds of firearms, especially machine guns, and later served as our army's machine gun instructor.
Uncle Japan, is that Japanese Cao Chang you? The mountain wind through the years tells me that it must be you, and there is your blood in the blood of this mountain, and your deep friendship for the Chinese. Although you are Japanese, you shed your blood in the best years for the cause of the liberation of the Chinese people.
My father once said that a comrade-in-arms named Li Quan in Shanjia Village, Jiepao Town, Suixi County, was also buried on the road to the west. Uncle Li Quan, like my father, is the only child in the family and is the lifeblood of my parents. In December 1945, the troops rested in Dunmin Village. Uncle Li Quan accompanied my father to the local people, and the revolutionary consciousness of the local masses was very high, not only did the grain raising go smoothly, but the masses also enthusiastically gave our army a lot of citrus, and the soldiers had never eaten such a delicious fruit. My father paid the money, but the masses refused to accept it, and it was the clever Li Quanneng who persuaded the masses to accept the citrus money. In the evening, on the way back to the campsite, the citrus trees hanging like small lanterns around him were like a bride with a phoenix crown under the magnificent sunset, and the two comrades-in-arms strictly abided by the three disciplines and eight points of attention, put their hands behind their backs, and only sniffed the sweetness in the air with their noses, Li Quan was full of emotion, and said to my father with a smile that he was going to get married today. Last year, his parents set him up, his fiancée was a good woman in the neighboring village, his parents asked a carpenter to make a marriage bed, at the beginning of the year, his parents asked Mr. Zeri to choose an auspicious day for marriage, the happy day is today, but it was too late to complete the marriage, so he set off with the army. His parents knew that he was participating in the revolution, and although they were very worried and worried, their parents, who knew the righteousness, still silently supported him.
Uncle Li Quan said that when the whole country is liberated, he will go home to get married, honor his loving parents, and give his parents a few such delicious citrus, and his parents are looking forward to holding their grandchildren, he must have a few more children, and it is a blessing to have a full house of children and grandchildren.
The love of a better life, when Uncle Li Quan said this, the irrepressible happiness rolled the blush on the heroic face to the ears and eyebrows, the red fluttered, and the bright eyes under the long eyelashes flashed with excitement.
Later, when the troops arrived in Guitai, they were harassed by the local militia groups, and Li Quan and his comrades were ordered to fight the enemy. Li Quan charged ahead, and was seriously wounded by an enemy bullet while wading across the river, but Li Quan still insisted on fighting and fell after repelling the enemy. When he was carried back to the camp by his comrades, he had lost too much blood and was unconscious. When the troops withdrew from Guitai, they were entrusted to the care of the local party organization by the regiment leaders, and in the days to come, there was no further news.
Uncle Suixi, is Uncle Li Quan, in Jiepao Shanjia Village, you?
I babbled on and on, but I couldn't hear an answer, Uncle, do you have too many words that have been consumed by time and can't be said for a while?
Even though I call you Uncle, you are still a child, a young child. Good boy, at this moment, when you see me who is the same age as my mother and speaks the dialect of Leizhou, do you seem to have seen my mother who has been absent for a long time, and I miss too much for a while? The intermittent sound of birds chirping and insects chirping, is it a few words that you can't cry silently? The branches that stretch out horizontally, are you holding my arm? You asked me to stay a little longer, you have too much to say to me, in the Leizhou dialect of our hometown? You are in the prime of your youth, how much beautiful vision you should have for life, but the heavy 100,000 mountains cut off your dreams, and you can only face the bright moon and breeze on the green hills. The broken stream in the canyon is your dry homesick tears?
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, how much tragedy and poignancy is there on the tomb?
Mr. Fang Zhi and Mr. Zeng Shanzhong burned paper money for the martyrs at the head of the tomb according to local customs, and several of us gathered around to burn the fire vigorously, and the paper ash flew around the tomb of the martyrs like the wings of a butterfly, and our group also bowed to the tomb again and again. Mr. Huang Songwen, who was traveling with him, may have remembered that the martyrs did not hesitate to shed their blood for the cause of the Chinese revolution, and he could not help but burst into tears.
I clasped my palms together on my chest and silently said in my heart, whether you are Uncle Suixi or Uncle Japan, your great soul should be worshiped by all Chinese.
Coming down from the opposite ridge, the poisonous sun made everyone red-faced, red-eared, and still panting, and we immediately walked to Eagle Ridge to pay homage to another martyr's tomb. I don't feel tired, the tombs of the martyrs in the 100,000 mountains that I have been thinking about day and night for many years are now in front of me, and I feel that I have inexhaustible strength in my body, and I followed Director Zeng Shanke, leaving Mr. Fang Zhi and them far behind.
The martyr's tomb on Eagle Ridge is the same as the martyr's tomb on the opposite ridge, there is no pine and cypress cover, no tall monuments, only dense layers of wild trees and thorns. Martyrs, although I know that from the moment you devoted yourself to the cause of the liberation of the motherland, you were bent on seeking happiness for the toiling masses, and you were ready to sacrifice everything long ago.
How can you bury your bones in the mulberry ground, and there are green mountains everywhere in life. ”
But I still feel guilty for you who spilled your blood on the land and sacrificed your life for the country without even leaving your name. Martyrs, you have been away from your hometown for nearly 80 years, you must miss your hometown, you really miss your relatives in your hometown, and the white-haired mother is looking forward to the return of her son, this hope is a lifetime.
For this world, you are just a soldier, for your mother, you are the whole world, and your mother's world is small, and it is full of you.
On the tomb, the trees that are striving to grow upwards are the neck stretched out by looking at your distant relatives?
The villagers around the village know that you are homesick, so they carry you to the high Eagle Ridge, hoping that the eagle will carry you over the mountains and mountains and return to your hometown.
At that time, the highest courtesy that the poor folks could give you was to lift you high up the mountain.
The villagers also brought wine and taught me to sprinkle a full cup of wine on the tomb of the martyrs, I didn't have time to ask the villagers what it meant to sprinkle wine on the tomb, but at this moment, the wine can best represent my heart, the martyrs, I salute you three glasses! The first cup is for you, throw your head and spill your blood to bless my China.
The second cup, I salute you how lonely you are. In this third cup, I talked about my thoughts for the comrades of the old regiment.
The villagers said distressedly that because of poverty, when the martyrs were buried, they had no money to buy coffins for the martyrs. Looking at the opposite ridge and eagle ridge, which seemed to be higher than the sky, it is impossible to imagine how many difficulties the villagers overcame to send the martyrs up the mountain on the rugged mountain road full of thorns 78 years ago.
The enemy surrounded and intercepted, and the villagers risked the extinction of the clan to find a place to bury the bones of the sacrificed soldiers.
At that time, if any villager supported the Communist Party was found out by the Kuomintang reactionaries, the whole family and even the whole village would be baptized in blood. Because the graves of the martyrs are all on the steep mountain ridge, the mountain road is rugged, it is not easy to go up and sweep once, the villagers put forward the idea: they want to put several martyrs, including the three martyrs on the tripe ridge where the graves cannot be found, in the ancient way of conjuring spirits of the people, gather in a place with convenient transportation, and set up a monument to facilitate everyone to pay respects.
A few seemingly simple words, I was shocked to hear.
Conjuring, if not their own relatives, who wants to approach ghosts?
I looked at a few villagers with emotion, and their faces were calm.
One can't help but think of when their parents supported the Communist Party, they must have been so calm in the face of the enemy's black muzzle.
In the fierce battle, after Zeng Zuohu died bravely, the enemy also cruelly cut off Zeng Zuohu's head to show the public, and his body was thrown in the barren mountains and mountains, and he has not been found yet; Zeng Zuohu's family was also frantically pursued by the Kuomintang reactionaries, and Zeng Zuohu's elderly grandmother starved to death in the mountains because she was hiding from the enemy; Zeng Zuohu's 4-year-old eldest son and 3-year-old nephew also died in a hurry on the way to escape the pursuit of the Kuomintang reactionaries; Zeng Zuohu's mother, wife, and youngest son, who was only a few months old, and his second son, who was four years old, Mr. Zeng Shanzhong, were arrested by the Kuomintang reactionaries and taken to Qinzhou, where three generations and four people were put on death row.
Zeng Zuohu's wife, who is Mr. Zeng Shanzhong's mother, was handcuffed to three or four pounds of shackles, and the family had to get out of the cage until Guitai was liberated.
The "Years of Fighting" compiled by the Party History Research Office of the Qinzhou City Party Committee records that because of supporting the Communist Party, Nahuan Village was burned by the Kuomintang seven times, and the enemy opened fire when they saw the people in Nahuan Village, and four villagers who were working in the fields were shot dead.
In December 1945, the old regiment passed by Dunmin Village, and was warmly welcomed by the villagers of Dunmin Village, providing food and accommodation for more than 800 people in the old regiment, and also took the initiative to patrol and guard posts.
That night, Huang Xianshu, head of the underground revolutionary traffic station in Dunmin Village, received information that the first group of enemy protection in Guangdong was approaching, and immediately rushed back to the village from the dark mountain road, and promptly reported the transfer of the old group, thus avoiding heavy losses. What is even more commendable is that no matter whether it is the enemy's frenzied encirclement and suppression, or coercion and temptation, none of the more than 1,000 people in Dunmin Village have one heart, and not one of them has revealed the secrets of the Communist Party. The surging Dasi River and the Guitai River feed the heroic people along the river, whose fathers sacrificed their lives to support the Communist Party in the bloody storm, and in the era of peace, this generation relayed to guard the Communist Party martyrs who are buried here.
I told the villagers to come up with a little money to set up a tombstone for each of the two martyrs' tombs on the opposite ridge and the eagle ridge, and engraved the "Tomb of the Unknown Soldier of the First Regiment of the People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army on the South Road".
The villagers sincerely expressed their gratitude to me, and they said that they would wait until the ninth day of the ninth lunar month to erect a tombstone according to local customs. The simple villagers said that it didn't cost much to carve a tombstone, so they politely declined my funding.
I looked at their old clothes and simple and rough dwellings, and it was not taboo to say that the local villagers were obviously far from modern material civilization. Director Zeng Shanke in front of him should be the biggest official in the village, Director Zeng is wearing a pair of old liberation shoes, his hair has turned red due to long-term exposure to the sun, his face is dark, he is holding a mountain knife in his hand, and he maintains a state of climbing and working at any time.
In order to facilitate communication, I wanted to exchange WeChat with Director Zeng, but Director Zeng was still using an old button mobile phone, and it was so worn out that it was polished and painted. From this, it is conceivable that the money for carving tombstones requires a lot of hard work for them to raise.
They just pretend to be revolutionary martyrs in their hearts, and they feel that it is their duty to pay for revolutionary martyrs. Besides, it takes a lot of work to carry the tombstone up the mountain. The villagers smiled and said that their people carried it up, and they had the strength to go back, what effort did it take?
Own! These three simple words shook my heart, in the hearts of the villagers, I have always regarded everything I have done for the revolutionary martyrs as my own affairs, and it turns out that the villagers regard the revolutionary martyrs as their own people! They looked at me several times and stopped talking, and finally, Mr. Zeng Shanzhong cautiously asked me if I could expand the scope of searching for information about the martyrs, maybe someone knew the clues of the martyrs. They kept giving me a flattering smile when they said this.
Respectable folks! They always feel like they have to give a lot, and they are so embarrassed to ask me for that.
Seventy-eight years ago, the villagers paid the price of their lives to take care of the seriously wounded and sick of the Communist Party and bury the martyrs, and now, they are still guarding the tombs of the martyrs from generation to generation.
Standing in the 100,000 mountains, I suddenly feel that the unknown 100,000 mountains are heavier than the five mountains and Kunlun! The villagers pointed to the lofty tripe ridge and said sadly that Liao Peinan, Zhang Tsai and other three martyrs were buried on the tripe ridge that year, and the area around the tripe ridge has now become the Bazhaigou scenic spot, and the graves of the martyrs can no longer be found.
Liao Peinan is a well-known hero in my hometown.
On February 16, 1943, the Japanese devils invaded the Leizhou Peninsula, and the Kuomintang troops fled in panic without any resistance, allowing millions of people in the land of Leizhou to be ravaged by the invaders. In late February 1943, Liao Peinan led the establishment of the Haikang County Third District Youth Armed Anti-Japanese Political Work Team, my father followed Uncle Liao Peinan's team to embark on the revolutionary road of saving the country and the people, which was the armed team of Haikang County under the leadership of the Communist Party to resist the Japanese invaders, which was recorded in the "Haikang County Chronicles". Later, it developed into the Anti-Japanese Joint Defense and Self-Defense Brigade of the Third District of Haikang County, with Liao Peinan as the deputy captain. Liao Peinan also served as deputy chief of staff of the South Road People's Anti-Japanese Guerrilla Brigade, deputy head of the Second Regiment of the South Road People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army, deputy commander of the Third Battalion of the First Regiment of the South Road People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army, and commander of the Seventh Company.
In June 1943, under the leadership of Ichiro Takai, the Japanese devils colluded with more than 100 traitors to encircle and suppress Chaoxi Village, Longmen, Haikang County, Guangdong, my hometown.
In April 1945, hundreds of puppet troops swept through Songzhutangzi Village, Haikang County, Guangdong, and used artillery to blow open the village gates, killing dozens of Communist Party members and the masses. Liao Peinan led my father and other anti-Japanese warriors to march from Yangjiawei, more than 20 kilometers away, to Tangzi Village, and in only half an hour, the enemy was defeated and fled.
On that morning in December 1945, before the officers and men of the 7th Company of the 3rd Battalion of the 1st Regiment of the People's Anti-Japanese Liberation Army on the South Road had breakfast, the main force of a regular brigade of the Kuomintang reactionaries in Guangdong and the two security regiments in Guangxi began to attack the Niudouling position where the 7th Company was located. Zhang Zai, the machine gunner of the Seventh Company, held his position and also died heroically; Another soldier also died.
During the war years, the environment was harsh, and in order to prevent the enemy from insulting the remains of the martyrs, the burial of the remains of the martyrs was carried out in extreme secrecy, and it was night, and the troops were immediately transferred, and the location of the graves of the three martyrs in the Battle of Niudouling was only known to a very small number of people. After the liberation, ** and the old group of comrades-in-arms have searched for the graves of the three martyrs in many ways, but because of many years, no one can be found who knows the location of the martyrs' tombs.
In September 1945, Zhang Yan's uprising troops were dispersed by the Kuomintang reactionaries in Dengcao Town, Lianjiang County, and Zhang Zai followed the Communist Party to join the old group. Zhang Zai's short and glorious life turned into a majestic tripe ridge; There is also a martyr, whose name has not been recorded, Unknown Soldier, whose name you have no name, is worth the weight of Mount Tai! Although I knew that the graves of the three martyrs could no longer be found, I still came to Tripe Ridge.
The former Niudouling battlefield has now become the Bazhaigou Scenic Area, the pond waves reflect the green, the flying flowers and broken jade, the visitors are like weaving, everyone has a pleasant smile, and the land of China is peaceful.
Martyrs, this is a peaceful life that you have bought with your blood and lives. With the fragrance of flowers and plants blowing my clothes, my comfortable shoes walking through the viewing plank road full of birds and flowers, martyrs, we are enjoying your happiness through thorns and thorns.
I held a large bouquet of flowers dedicated to the martyrs in my hand and looked around for the graves of the martyrs, but all I could see was the bright spring light.
The flowers are full of flowers, and I don't know where I'm going. I can only stop in this piece of peace, listen to every wisp of wind in the past, martyrs, wisps of wind echo your laughter, it turns out that you have never been far away.
I slowly squatted down and solemnly put down the bouquet, and the tourists around me were busy taking pictures and live broadcasts, my eyes stopped on the flowers, and my face was solemn and reverent. I was afraid of frightening the tourists, so I didn't dare to lay wreaths, let alone burn paper and make offerings.
When the three martyrs died, they had not received a drop of water or food for a day and a night. I really want to give the martyrs a stick of incense, offer wine and rice, all the delicacies in the world, and the revolutionary martyrs are qualified to enjoy them! Before I came to Bazhaigou, I went to the flower shop to ask the owner of the flower shop what flowers are the most respectful, the boss brought me a bunch of blooming carnations, saying that the flower language of carnations is gratitude, respect, I learned that I was going to worship the revolutionary martyrs, the boss brought a small bunch of February orchids that imply selfless dedication, and then sprinkled the stars that symbolize the longing, and then carefully packaged, delicate cable ties, and specially selected white on behalf of mourning.
Under the red cotton trees on the side of the road in the scenic area, I picked up a few red cotton flowers that are known as the flowers of heroes, and the fiery red red cotton is like the dignified bones of a strong man, like a burning flame dotted in the bouquet.
O revolutionary martyrs who sacrificed their lives for the cause of the liberation of the motherland, do you smell the fragrance of flowers? More than 70 years ago, 78 years ago, at that time, you were like this flower-like youth, you generously dedicated your best years and youthful blood to this land, and you were unknown year after year.
Your name is unknown, and your deeds are immortalized. ”
You are the gods of the Chinese nation! You defend your family and defend the country and forget your life and death, interpret the noble with your life, and there will always be a god who belongs to you on the land of China! In the face of Qingshan, I want to call you back to this world one by one, let you be with the mountains and rivers, and let you see that this prosperous world has been as you wish.
The rivers and mountains in front of me are magnificent, the tourists are full of interest, and I have a solemn face, which is a little incompatible with the bustling bustle in front of me.
A group of tourists excitedly asked me to take pictures of them, and I squeezed out a little smile, and from their excited conversation, I learned that they had just completed a research project, and the joy of success made them happy like a group of magpies, and they encouraged each other to "the world is so beautiful, we must live well."
I remembered that my father had said many times that when every martyr died, almost always said one sentence to his comrades-in-arms: "Live well!" You must live well for me. "The martyrs do not hesitate to sacrifice themselves, and only hope that we who are alive will live well.
Someone once said that it is not necessary to sacrifice with death-like depression, and being positive and strong is comfort.
Cherishing the beautiful life in front of you is the best tribute to the martyrs.