On the eve of my 22nd birthday, I wrote a long narrative poem in the ward of the 33rd Field Hospital of the Guangzhou Military Region - "Stories told by my mother".
When my mother was fourteen, she was arrested and sent to the Kuomintang prison. Her sister was an underground member of the Communist Party in the normal school, and her mother was arrested together with her sister. Her sister was killed. She was too young and was found not to be a member of the Communist Party, so she was released. My mother said, I thought at that time that I must be a Communist Party member.
I want to be a soldier. My mother stroked my head, and it took a long time before she said one sentence: "Son, when it comes to fighting, don't be a coward..."
So, I went to Guangdong with my "general dream" in mind.
That field army was a majestic army that fought from Baishan and Blackwater to Hainan Island. After the recruit training was over, I was assigned to the special agent company and then to the mechanical company. I was issued a set of light cyan overalls with rust-red blood stains on them. Those are the war traces left by the engineering troops who resisted U.S. aggression and aided Vietnam. The company commander, instructor and the backbone of the company came from the tank crews of the old army, and the task of our newly formed mechanical company was to drive and repair crawler tractors.
The entire division was ordered to build fields around the lake. Large crawler tractors had to bulldoze, dig ditches, plow and harrow the fields... which was a more arduous task than tanks. The tractor must be maintained every day when it comes back. Clearing the mud and weeds accumulated on the chassis requires drilling under the tracks. This work is very dirty and tiring. While others were still hesitating, I crawled in.
The "double rush" plowing happened at the hottest time in Guangdong. The sun was shining brightly and the water tank of the high-horsepower engine was boiling. All around are endless, steaming lake fields. A leech as thick as a finger is placed on the hood and roasted into jerky in a moment. Sitting in the cab of a large crawler tractor, the military uniform cannot be worn, and the upper body must be taken off. In the extremely hot and humid environment, "rotten crotch disease" is prevalent in the company, making it impossible to wear underpants under long military trousers. As soon as he took off his long military trousers, he went into battle naked.
"First, don't be afraid of hardship, and second, don't be afraid of death." I fulfilled the oath of the soldiers of that era. Half a year later, I became the first batch of new party members among the new recruits in the regiment. The squad leader liked me to work hard with him, and he also gave me the task of writing: writing a summary of the class's Maoist learning activities.
Just like digging through crawler tracks to clean up mud and weeds, I tried my best to write that summary for the squad leader. Not long after the summary was handed in, I was promoted to the company headquarters as a clerk - I later heard that the company instructor from Changsha City, Hunan Province read the summary and praised me very much.
Just when I was ambitiously moving towards my "dream of being a general", the disease came to me quietly. For several days, I suffered from severe pain in my lower right abdomen and projectile vomiting. Of course I am a "hero who never leaves the line of fire". I took painkillers and still persisted. Under the scorching southern sun, I was dripping with cold sweat and in unbearable pain. I fainted in the company's vegetable field. When I woke up, the instructor held my hand and said, the doctor at the camp health center has determined that you have acute appendicitis, and the ambulance will be here soon!
It was already night when I was taken to the division hospital by ambulance. After I got on the operating table, I heard the surgeon say, "It doesn't look like..."
I insisted, just cut it off, it would be over!
After the sutures were removed, as soon as I could walk while holding on to the wall, I immediately applied for discharge and returned to the company.
A month later, the pain returned. And it extends downward to the bottom of the lower abdomen. My urine suddenly turned red, and I rushed to the regimental health team anxiously. The military doctor's urine test was normal. I told about the treatment I received at the division hospital not long ago. The military doctor stared at me and smiled. He still wanted to stay in the division hospital? Go back to the company and observe.
A few days later, the urine turned red again. Go to the health team again. The military doctor's urine test was still normal. So the military doctor had a serious face and said, go back to the company, go back to the company, "double robbery" is busy, don't keep thinking about staying in the hospital.
The next day, the urine turned red. I'll go to the health team again. The military doctor said rudely, "You always say it's red, how come it's normal when you check it out?" The urine was taken on the spot, and the test tube seemed to be filled with red wine. Instrument testing, four plus signs. Diagnosis, hematuria.
I was admitted to the division hospital again. There was no B-ultrasound at that time, so I took an X-ray and found out that I had multiple urinary tract stones and calcium oxalate was detected in my urine.
High temperature, heavy sweating, please drink more water in the future... The doctor advises that ureteral obstruction can cause colic, which can also cause severe vomiting or even syncope.
I guessed the cause of the stone formation: the stones may have started to accumulate in my body in the cab where the temperature was baking.
On the third day of hospitalization, the urine was no longer red, but it was difficult to pass.
Unable to urinate, and holding back to the point of having to defecate. Squatting in the pit and exerting force, I felt that it was suddenly clear, as if the barrier lake had been opened. My intuition told me that the stone was out!
I'm fine! I asked to be discharged from the hospital and return to the company. The doctor shook his head, where is the stone? Did you see it? Multiple stones are a chronic disease, so you can be hospitalized with peace of mind. The doctors are so kind, and the female soldiers are so kind. They took me up the mountain to collect herbs all day long. Plantain, money grass... are harvested and boiled in a small medicine jar.
I seem to be suffering too. When can I return to the company? Chronic disease, am I just going to become a sick person like this!
The division hospital is located in a quiet valley, with the rolling mountains at its back. It is said that it was the base of activities of the Dongjiang Column. I climbed the mountain alone, and after successfully reaching the top, I wrote a poem to express my unwillingness to sink my ambition:
There is no unbreakable fog
There is no unreachable mountain
p>
As long as you have a heart like an eagle
You can hunt for the laurel crown of victory
God has mercy on you. Herbal medicine is effective. After a course of treatment, a radiograph was taken for review and multiple stones were found to be gone. All gone. Not long after I returned to the company, I was transferred to the division propaganda team. I wrote programs for the division propaganda team, including lyrics, poetry recitations, short plays, counting treasures, cross talk... I also did some counting and played the flute in the band.
The Guangzhou Military Region held a cultural performance, and the division’s Publicity Department organized a team to participate in the observation. I was assigned to the commentary team of the performance conference. The guest house is a big room, where many people from the review team live together.
After the first night's performance, the review team had to work overnight to submit the manuscript. People from all the troops were chatting enthusiastically about their impressions after watching, and I joined in to chat. They were all cadres in the four pockets, and I was the only soldier in the two pockets. I was chatting enthusiastically when I was suddenly interrupted: "Hey, I graduated from Sun Yat-sen University. Which university did you graduate from?"
I told "Sun Yat-sen University" that I was just a junior high school student. Rural educated youth.
After hearing this, "Sun Yat-sen University" smiled: "Don't brag, I will hand in the manuscript tonight, why don't you write it quickly."
I shut up, He returned to the small table and picked up the pen. In my ears, the discussion of the group of people came. "Which unit is he from?" "The 142nd Division." "Have you never heard of the 142nd Division?" "The newly formed division is managed by the 42nd Army." "Haha, this 142nd Division Why did a big-headed soldier be sent..."
I quickly went to bed.
"Sun Yat-sen University" came over: "Hey, why are you sleeping? Have you written the manuscript?"
"It's done."
"It's done. ! Let me see——"
After reading my manuscript, "Sun Yat-sen University" stopped talking and lay down on the table to write.
The next day, the head of the review team of the performance conference called everyone for a meeting. The person in charge said that most of the review manuscripts submitted this time did not meet the requirements. Only the review by the 142nd Division was well written. Comments should be written like this, and the briefing team adopted it.
How many years have passed, this scene is as clear as yesterday. The title of the review I wrote is "Original and Unique - Comment on ××××".
What I reviewed was a folk art program like Shandong Kuaishu. Small folk art, easy to grasp. For small comments, the starting point should be new, and a thousand-character text is sufficient. There is no need to assume the posture of a college student writing a graduation thesis.
That scene was too disturbing to me, but I did not embarrass my 142nd Division.
The propaganda team of the 142nd Division rehearsed the Peking Opera "Shajiabang", and I played the flute in the band. I have a chronic cough and asthma, and playing the flute has become an arduous and difficult task. Suddenly one day, blood appeared in the sputum after a long cough. "Grandma Sha" in "Shajiabang" said with concern, you need to look through and check.
I said, I have seen through it, no problem.
A comrade who played erhu in the band suffered from asthma. I also had a cough that was close to asthma, and was finally admitted to the division hospital. I have tried various oral medicines and injection medicines, but to no avail, and wheezing can be heard in my breathing. The hospital decided to use a "new medical method" to perform surgery and embed steel rings at acupuncture points. Before the operation, the old director suddenly said, let's do a X-ray. I said, no need, I have done multiple fluoroscopy. The old dean insisted that it should be seen again.
The results came out. There was a flocculent shadow with unclear edges in the fourth and fifth front intercostal space of the left middle and lower lung. It was tuberculosis. The old director said that it was not a day old. The initial lesion should be behind the ribs, so it could not be photographed. I was transferred to the 33rd Field Hospital. After three months of intramuscular injections of streptomycin, my lips were numb and my ears were buzzing. This toxic reaction may cause permanent deafness, but we can only persevere.
While I was being treated for tuberculosis at the 33rd Field Hospital, I was still writing programs for my propaganda team of the 142nd Division: the poem performance "Miao Warrior Tong Le Jia", the song lyrics "The Teaching Team Can Do It" OK》...
I know that I am leaving the army. I wrote a poem "Shadow" to myself in a gloomy mood - it was a shadow in my lungs and a shadow in my soul:
I was once as chaste as white jade
Also Once as pure as crystal
There is no cloud of sorrow in the pure heart
Only joy and happiness complement each other
...
Oh, This incurable wound
This heart-wrenching pain
is like a dark cloud that cannot be driven away
casting a dark shadow on the heart< /p>
…
Shortly after leaving the army, I began to submit articles to various literary journals.
Poetry Magazine, the highest-level publication in the Chinese poetry world, and People's Literature and Harvest, the most authoritative publications in the Chinese literary world, have successively published my works.
After four years of military travel, I will never forget the Army’s 142nd Division. It was there that I sharpened my sickle and was finally able to harvest.