Before the Zhenbao Island incident broke out, seven intellectual youths in our class were digging sand by the Heilongjiang River. The river sand is very fine, but it can only be dug open in winter and transported away. As soon as the river is alive in spring, the beach is gone.

We lived in a small, abandoned wooden house by the river. On the opposite bank, there was a post where about a squad of Soviet border guards was stationed. The frozen Heilongjiang River resembles a wide road. We work on this side of the road every day, and they patrol on the other side of the road every day. Their every move is in our eyes. They have never provoked us unprovoked. Nor do we feel threatened by their presence. Although they are soldiers, we are educated youth, and all of them have weapons in their hands, and what we have is nothing more than tools of labor. It's too quiet here. The hostility towards the Soviets, which the deterioration of relations between the two countries has caused in our hearts, dissolves in the silence of nature. In this place, if it is a person, there is a desire to get close to people. If we don't see those Soviet soldiers on the riverbank one day, we will feel too lonely in this quiet place. We didn't go to the center of the "road" once. Neither do they. On this wide "road", the border is not very clear. It is not so much that we and they are afraid of disputes arising from "encroachment" on each other's territory, but rather that both sides respect the existence of the indistinct border and are careful to maintain the tranquility and peace in this area. We don't want to be seen as enemies by them. And so they are. It's not a good thing to be seen as an enemy, or to see someone as an enemy. What's more, in this area, in this quiet "world", there are only a few of us intellectual youths and a few of their soldiers. When you think of the phrase "hatred and hatred", you will suspect that you are mentally abnormal.

Those Soviet border guards seemed to be very comfortable with the tranquility of this place, and their lives seemed to be very regular. Every morning, they squatted by the river and wiped their faces with snow. Then they lined up to run by the river. We really wanted to learn from them, and we also went to the river to wipe our faces with snow, in order to prove to them that our Chinese are no less resistant to cold than they are Soviets. But he only followed suit for one day, and did not experience the slightest pleasure, so he had to give up.

They keep five pigeons, which are released once a day in the morning, afternoon and evening. We see their pigeons as an "international light music ensemble". Each of their pigeons carries a pigeon whistle on their backs. The pigeon whistle is so pleasant and wonderful that we are very envious.

We also brought a pigeon, a white pigeon, and a hen from the company. We call her "White Maiden", and we appreciate the name given to her.

We let the "self-girl" go once, were led by five of their pigeons, and flew back three days later. Since then, "she" has been imprisoned in a cage by us and never released again.

We don't want to have any clash with them because of the pigeons, the Soviet border guards.

We cherish the tranquility of this place.

Because the tranquility of this place is something we didn't expect at all.

We are all young intellectuals in Harbin. Before going to the countryside, they all participated in the voluntary work of "digging deep holes" for war preparedness. With this kind of exercise, digging sand is a very light job for us.

Except for the elderly and young children, who of the more than 2.7 million people in Harbin City have not participated in the "digging deep holes"? Elementary school students, middle school students, military personnel, government workers, and street women also participated. Leaders of the party, government, and military at all levels are afraid that they will not be able to count a few who have not participated. The "hole" was dug very deep, and the work was quite huge. The cost is staggering, and it could be enough to rebuild a city of a million people. The enthusiasm of elementary school students to dig holes is very impressive. They generally participate in the work of transporting bricks. As long as you can move three bricks, you will never move two, and you will have to move four or even five bricks if you grit your teeth. A student at a certain elementary school "invented" and created a brick-moving tool - a wooden plank, tied to the ends of a thick wire or rope, hung around the neck, and a maximum of six bricks could be placed on the board at a time, as long as the neck could eat. This experience is rapidly being replicated in primary schools. As a result, in all homes where there were elementary school students, red potions, purple potions, and medicinal cloths became the norm. Millions of people have been digging holes every day for several years, destroying the city's streets and causing traffic chaos. Evil accidents emerge one after another. The foundations of some buildings have also been severely damaged, tilted or collapsed, and landslides are inevitable, and the martyrs will live forever. Even in the context of peacebuilding, the death of people is commonplace, let alone in preparation for war. When people think about it this way, they think that dying because of "digging a deep hole" is a well-deserved death.

Anti-aircraft sirens were installed on the roof of the building of the municipal party committee, sandbags were piled up, and anti-aircraft machine guns were erected. So several universities and several heavy industrial factories did the same. Every few days, a terrible siren is heard. As soon as it sounded, the workers ran out of the workshop, the cadres ran out of the office, and the students ran out of the classroom. There are holes in each unit, and people know where to run. Walking on the road and finding a nearby hole to hide, he quickly lay down - face down, hands to protect his head, body flat on the ground. But don't stick too tightly to the ground, as that will hurt your internal organs. You can't lie too close to tall buildings and you'll be stoned to death. This is the knowledge that war readiness education tells people, and this knowledge also tells people that in this way, they can save their lives at the moment of the explosion of ** and ***. To save oneself is to destroy the enemy. It is people, not weapons, that decide the outcome of a war. Nothing remarkable. "Digging deep holes" is a great strategic policy to deal with ***. In order to continue to carry out modern urban "tunnel warfare" with the Soviet army after the city was occupied by the Soviet army, "Tunnel Warfare", a film reflecting the War of Resistance Against Japan, was repeatedly screened as a war readiness educational film. In fact, the practical significance of the film is "a household name and everyone understands".

From the glass in the offices of the provincial and municipal party committees to the glass in every household in the narrow alleys and alleys of the small streets, the white paper of the air raid has replaced the characters "loyalty" and "gong" in the red-cut red paper. The members of the residents' committee regularly inspected every house and seriously criticized the slips of paper on the glass of the Zhang or Li houses for not meeting the requirements for war readiness. Some important units and large enterprises have moved to other places. More than half of the country's famous Harbin Institute of Technology and Harbin Military Engineering Institute have moved away. Many units evacuated the population to the rural areas in phases and batches. Many people have gone to the countryside with their wives and children. The threat of war has diminished people's perception of the "rural-urban divide". Posters selling private property are everywhere in the city, but they lose their appeal to ordinary people. The auction price of old furniture has dropped to the point where it is almost worthless, and few people are greedy for it. Few people think of strange goods to live in and profit from them. The first thought came of turning local food stamps into national food stamps. Further, I thought that the money and the national food stamps should be turned into biscuits, canned food, meat floss, and so on, which could be used as food for war readiness. Thinking further, once the war broke out, a ** fell from the sky, maybe it fell on the roof, penetrated the roof and fell into the house, and the whole family died together, and no matter how much war food was stored, it would be in vain. After thinking about it, it is still the "three-light policy", things are sold out, money is spent, and food and drink are all over. People are in a state of panic.

I was the captain of our middle school's air raid rescue team. I am very proficient in the "triangular scarf bandaging method". More than once he sacrificed his life to save the "wounded" during exercises, and more than once "sacrificed". Our school is a model for the city's middle schools to carry out war readiness education. Each student has a white cloth sewn on the inside of their clothes, on which is written their gender, name, age, parents' names and place of work. Some students also wrote the shortest last words on this white cloth. This is so that once the Sino-Soviet war breaks out in full swing, when the rescue team drags out our corpses from the rubble and rubble, with blurred faces, missing arms and legs, they may know from that white cloth who we are in life. If our bodies are scorched, our clothes are burned to ashes, or even worse, our bodies are blown away without a trace, that's "something else". When the teacher explained these things to us, he was as logical and reasonable as if he were teaching geometry examples. We all think that his phrase "something else" is particularly good, subtle and clear. The "last words" of a male classmate in our class before his death were - Cui Lihua, I love you. Cui Lihua is a beautiful female classmate in our class. And her last words were - I want to be a movie actress. We were all good friends with that male classmate, and we all felt sorry for him. Because Cui Lihua did not write in her "last words" before her death, she also loved him. He didn't care about that, saying, "Even if she loved me anyway, it still couldn't be a reality, and I don't think we would both survive the war if it started." Everyone thought that there was some truth in his words. After we went to the countryside, we heard that he and she were stubbornly "staying" in the city and engaged in a "protracted war" with the office of going to the mountains and going to the countryside. In his letter to me, he wrote: "Actually, I am not nostalgic for the city, and since war may break out tomorrow, what is the need for us to be re-educated by the poor and middle peasants?"

Harbin, the city known as the little Paris of the East, the city known as the cradle of music and dance, the city that has been most influenced by the Soviet culture, art and even the way of life, and the city that was once undoubtedly considered by its citizens to be "backed by Big Brother" and "the most reliable rear of the Third World War", on those unusual days, often sounded the poignant sound of air raid sirens. It has become an unprecedentedly chaotic, extremely dirty, and panicked city, a city destined to be wiped off the map of China by artillery fire in the Sino-Soviet war, and a target that the Soviet Union will focus on destroying. It was as if every one of its citizens was under the threat of war at the end of the day.

War, war, either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. In the book of quotations, which compiled the "latest supreme instructions" on the war, one can find the following sentence - "The Sino-Soviet war is inevitable, it must be fought sooner or later, and it is better to fight it early than later." "When people reverently read this quotation that predicted war, their hearts were filled with heavy melancholy. The Chinese are not war maniacs, but they want to fight early. After fighting, it was pulled down. That's what they thought. Adults are willing to bear the scourge of war in their own generation, leaving the years of peace to future generations. No matter how great and cruel this disaster may be. Young people are ready to die in their blood-stained territory.

However, when we came to the Heilongjiang River, exposed to the eyes of the Soviet border guards every day, and within the optimal range of the opponent's weapons, the threat of war that we felt every day in the city was reduced to a level of plausibility. It is as if we have stepped out of the nightmare of war and come to the realm of peace.

It's a fucking silence here. I could not hear the terrible sound of the air raid siren, nor could I observe any sign of the other side planting millions of troops on the border line. It is as if the "horseshoe-shaped encirclement" is nothing more than a figurative term for war readiness education. As if the prophecy of the inevitable Sino-Soviet war was nothing more than a false illusion.

Six or seven miles away from us, one of the other side's border posts confronts one of our villages along the river. Their searchlights shine on us night and night. It is bound to shine through. The irradiation range of that kind of military searchlight is five miles, and the widest river surface in this area is only more than 1,000 meters. In a way, this can be considered a provocation, but it can also be said to be friendly. How to say how to be reasonable. It seems more acceptable to say that it is a special way of being friendly than to say that it is provocative. Dialectics has a more theoretical charm in explaining this matter.

We couldn't see the newspapers of the day. It has been a week since the various reports were sent to the regiment. It took another three or four days to send it from the regiment to the company. It will be three or four days before it reaches us. What we most want to see in time are "Reference News" and "People's Daily". As soon as we got these two newspapers, we eagerly caught them on each page, capturing even a few lines of reports related to Sino-Soviet relations. After all, we are at the "front line", and Sino-Soviet relations are linked to our destiny. Maybe one day a shell will reimburse us together. We have to die to understand. "Reference News" and "People's Daily" often have a strong ** flavor. Sino-Soviet relations are deteriorating day by day. Again and again small-scale border clashes have accumulated the smoke of public opinion before the Sino-Soviet war. The escalating "protests," "serious protests," "final warnings," and "ultimatums" published in the People's Daily convinced the whole of China and the world that "a major war between China and the Soviet Union is inevitable." ”

But this border zone, I mean the "road" that separates us seven Chinese intellectuals from a squad of Soviet soldiers, has always been quiet. It's as if this place, because it's so far from Beijing and Moscow, even though the nerve endings of the two countries meet, our minds and theirs have become sluggish to respond to war messages.

Conflicts along national borders, sometimes fairly, are not always so serious in substance. Before we arrived at this place, we had heard that there had been a clash between China and the Soviet Union, and almost resorted to weapons: a Soviet truck and one of our tractors were walking opposite each other on the river, and they collided with each other. Both our driver and their driver were seriously injured. For both sides, this is a "reasonable collision" and an irrational collision. Because the central line of the frozen Heilongjiang River is not clear, both sides believe that it is driving on their own territory in an absolute sense, and avoiding the other side is a political humiliating act......

When I heard about it, I thought that it was more of an "international traffic accident" than a "border conflict," and that if only an "international traffic policeman" was sent from the United Nations, many similar incidents would be dealt with fairly.

I thought it was a clever idea, so I told my friends. My friends didn't think so, and criticized me for being ridiculous and simple-minded. "If the United Nations had an international traffic police, it should also have an international traffic booth, you can figure it out!" "Do you understand politics? Even if there are international traffic police, they can't care about this paragraph!" Only the squad leader did not join in the criticism of me. After I bowed my head and confessed, he tapped me on the shoulder and said, "That's what you think...... But what an idea!" I don't understand if his words are a sign of support for me or sarcasm. ...... A few days later, one of our partners returned to the company to repair tools, and when he returned, he brought a few copies of the People's Daily. After reading the newspaper, we learned that the Treasure Island incident broke out. The squad leader grabbed the newspaper and read aloud to us the article of the commentator of the "People's Daily": "...... As long as the Soviet authorities want to fight, we will resolutely accompany them to the end......" This categorical phrase makes us look at each other. Everyone realizes that we are not in the "Pure Land of Peace," but indeed in the "forward position" of the imminent outbreak of a full-scale war between China and the Soviet Union. On the other side of the river is social-imperialism, the new tsar, the most vicious and aggressive number one enemy who "will not die in my heart." This theory of war, which we were convinced of when we were educated in war preparedness, was once dissolved by the tranquility of this border area, and that day was condensed by the outbreak of the Zhenbao Island incident. However, Heilongjiang is not the Ussuri River. This place where we dig sand is not a treasure island either. The silence here is real. But since that day, we all feel that the silence here is false. The partner who brought back the People's Daily from Lien also said that the intellectuals in Lien were circulating, and Moscow warned Beijing that they could hit Beijing from the Far East in 20 minutes. Beijing's answer is - we can destroy the Kremlin in ten minutes.

I don't know where this statement comes from, but after hearing it, we think that the ambition of the Chinese will be greatly extinguished, and the prestige of the "new tsar" will be destroyed, and we are fully convinced of its reliability. "Liberate Moscow!" "Liberate Petersburg!" "Let the Kremlin's red star shine again!" "Transfer Lenin's crystal coffin to Tiananmen Square!" The slogan of "anti-revision" that we shouted loudly at the stadium of the Eighth District of Harbin when we were Red Guards has resonated in the hearts of each of us since that day. The pride and ambition of the "anti-repair fighters" have been boiling and rushing in the veins of each of us since that day! "You say, when did the ** son start to have the 'heart of self-destruction'?" a partner solemnly asked everyone. Everyone looked at him together, and they all felt that he was so solemn and stupid. "What's the problem??" "You kid seems to have doubts about that?" everyone reprimanded him. He hurriedly defended: "No, no, I didn't mean that!" One of his companions, Zhang Wenqi, somehow got a "combat readiness textbook" -- "Analysis of Flash Tactics Examples." He said in the tone of a war-readiness ideological instructor: "From the day they became 'social-imperialists,' they had the 'heart to destroy themselves.'" "Understood, understood." The reprimanded partner Nono repeatedly. "Don't sell dog skin plasters!" The squad leader glared at Zhang Wenqi fiercely, then looked at the reprimanded partner and said, "You have this question...... What a problem!" ...... A spontaneous war readiness education came to an end. From that day on, a few Soviet border guards on the other side of the river became the most concrete enemy we could see. Everyone instigated the squad leader and demanded that the company issue us weapons. lest if war breaks out here, we will sacrifice all our bare hands and all for nothing. The squad leader said, "When it's time to issue weapons, they will definitely give us weapons." Since we are not given weapons yet, it means that our task is still to dig sand!"

His words discourage us.

One partner muttered, "Maybe one day the war will start, what else is there to build?"

The squad leader was very angry and said, "You should go and question the company commander!" The squad leader also "took over" the shotgun and a dozen shotguns I brought from the company. I borrowed it from an old worker, and I was bent on catching a few pheasants and hares in this place. I haven't touched it, and I haven't let go of a shot.

"This is the border. Sino-Soviet relations were tense, and every shot and bullet sometimes caused serious conflicts. I'm the squad leader, and I have the right to control it!" the squad leader's reasoning is irrefutable. I scolded him behind my back as "Chen Duxiu". My friends all said that I was "high-class". We dug the sand every day under the leadership of the squad leader. The Soviet border guards patrolled across the river every day. We repeat the same work as yesterday. They are fulfilling the same duties as yesterday. Their five pigeons still fly in the sky here every day. The pigeon's whistle still sounds so pleasant and wonderful to us. The "White Girl" was still kept in a cage by us, and as soon as she heard the pigeon whistle, she was in a commotion in the cage, and made a cooing cry that was unwilling to be lonely. What is different from yesterday and the day before yesterday is our psychology.

If we find them looking at us, we stop working and look at them with intent. In this way, they will understand that we are always on high alert and precautionary against them.

If they throw a ball of snow, we'll throw it up and lift the sand. If one of them came towards the center of the river with a gun, we would each hold a pickaxe and meet it together. Prepare for war - this string is taut in our minds to the maximum limit. But we are accustomed to seeing their five pigeons flying freely in the skies here, and to the pleasant sound of the pigeon whistle. If we don't see them flying freely in the air one day, if we don't hear the pleasant pigeon whistle one day, we must all feel that something beautiful is missing from our monotonous life. These five birds, which symbolize friendship and peace, never seem to be disturbed by the hostility of human thoughts of war. The planet on which mankind lives, although divided and ruled by more than a hundred large and small countries, but the sky that surrounds it and is wider than it should be the free kingdom of the pigeon. The blue sky is the land of pigeons. The pigeons are stateless. They continue to fly across borders as they always do, and the skies here sound a melodious whistle of friendship and peace. As they hover over our heads, we can't help but stop working, look up at them, and listen to the pleasant pigeon whistle floating in the open sky.

The "White Girl" is becoming more and more unwilling to be lonely. It longs to break out of its cage, to fly, to be free. As soon as it heard the pigeon's whistle, it cooed and fluttered its wings and jumped around. It can only attract our attention in this way, and convey to us its longing and protest in this way.

But on more than one occasion, the squad leader said to us very resolutely: "Don't let it go! No one is allowed to let it go! Whoever doesn't listen to me, I'll clean him up with my fists!"

Zhang Wenqi carried the squad leader behind his back and muttered to us: "Look, one day I have to release the 'White Girl' once! Maybe our beautiful 'White Girl' will also attract all five of their pigeons!"

"Don't be smart, you forgot the last ......" I tried to dispel him.

He said: "Last time, victory and defeat were a common thing, and the last time it did not prove our defeat! But our 'white girl' got a little carried away and was too amorous of their pigeons." I'm sure it will learn a lesson and sum up its experience!"

"There are five of them, and one of us, and I am outnumbered!" said another companion. "Before you fight, you are completely a defeatist!" Zhang Wenqi said vigorously. It was as if he was not talking about pigeons, but planning an air battle. I was amazed. The next day, when Zhang Wenqi was picking and shaving sand, his eyes were shattered by the frozen sand that flew up. The squad leader asked me to send him back. Halfway through, he smiled and said to me, "You've all been deceived!" I asked, "What do you mean?" and he said, "I'm creating an opportunity to go back and let off the wind for our 'White Girl'!" "I'll tell the squad leader!" "Please." Anyway, he didn't have time to stop me. "If our 'White Girl' is led by their pigeons again, see how they punish you!" he smiled confidently, disdainful of reply.

Walking back to the place where we were digging sand, the squad leader asked uneasily, "Is his eye seriously injured?"

I said angrily: "He's pretending to lie to us......"

Before he finished speaking, one of his companions suddenly pointed to the sky and shouted, "Look! Our 'White Girl'! Fly as high and as fast as you ......"

Everyone looked up to the sky. Sure enough, our "White Girl" soared high in the sky. The sky was clear that day, blue and blue, cloudless and windless. We look up at the sky as if we were looking at the sea from the sky. From time to time, the "White Girl" swooped down from a great height, circled over our heads, and then flew sharply. It can be seen that it has obtained this rare opportunity to fly, and it is happy and excited.

We all looked at it in a daze.

The squad leader glanced at the opposite side of the river and scolded in a low voice: "Zhang Wenqi, this kid, play this trick with me, I can't spare him!"

As he said this, he kept his face up, followed the graceful figure of the "white girl" with his eyes, and couldn't help but smile.

"She" flew into the sky, and none of us could get "her" out of the sky. Only while enjoying "her" superb flying stunt performance, while expecting "she" to fly tired and land by herself.

"She" flew and flew, as if she would never get tired of flying, and would never want to land.

A pigeon's whistle sounded. Their five pigeons took off from across the river. They flew across the river, surrounded the "white girl", and flew with "her".

The "White Maiden" was seduced by them. "She" is like a beautiful and noble princess, in the middle of a group of admirers. "She" constantly showed them her superb flying skills, one moment diving, one moment gliding, one moment flying sideways, and another continuous somersault.

The squad leader said: "Look, the 'White Girl' will definitely be hijacked by their pigeons again! This time they will never let 'her' escape back easily, Zhang Wenqi, this bastard!"

The squad leader's worries seemed unnecessary. Just as Zhang Wenqi predicted, our "white girl" really remembered the lesson of the last "hijacking", "she" flew with them, circled the sky with them, but as long as they had the intention of luring "her" to fly to the other side of the river, "she" left them reservedly and flew alone and freely.

The extraordinary "character" of our beloved pigeon amazes and makes us, the owners of "her", very proud of it.

Her admirers, as if at last, realized that it was impossible to tempt the beautiful white dove to "defect" for the second time.

Those Soviet border guards also appeared across the river, looking up and watching the "air battle." Yes, it was like a silent air battle between China and the Soviet Union using pigeons, and we couldn't wait to take to the skies and join this "air war". Whether they also have such an impulse is unknown.

The "air battle" lasted for a long time.

"Hey, your pigeons have abandoned the darkness and won't fly over again, you have died of this heart!" Zhang Wenqi didn't know when he also returned here, shouting at the Soviet border guards across the river. He looked smug.

A Soviet border guard began to shake a small flag hanging from a long pole. Their five pigeons flew back with reluctance and reluctance. No sooner had they crossed the river than our "White Maiden" quickly caught up with them, circled over the heads of the Soviet border guards, and lured them to the river. Soviet border guards holding flags, waving small flags all the time. Their pigeons flew back again and again. Our "White Girl" lured them over again and again. "Oh, oh! We are victorious! We are victorious!" "It is reasonable to abandon the darkness and turn to the light!" "The betrayal of the 'new tsar' is meritorious!" except for the squad leader, we all jumped and jumped and shouted and shouted. When the "White Maiden" flew across the river again, a Soviet soldier raised his gun and aimed at "her".

"No shooting......" I shouted. "No shooting......" the partners shouted in unison. "No shooting......" the squad leader yelled at them as well. The Soviet soldier slowly lowered his gun and looked at us, hesitating. But another Soviet soldier raised his gun. Bang...... In this quiet place, the sound of gunfire is particularly crisp. At that moment, we were all stunned. The "White Maiden" shook in the air, and her white body jumped upward, as if it had been flicked upwards by an invisible spring. A few white feathers slowly fell from the sky.

"She" had her wings outstretched, still flying, her belly and back down, falling almost vertically. The admirers of "her" seem to understand what kind of sad events are happening, and they all lower their heights around "her". It can be seen that they all want to hold "her" with their wings. But after all, the pigeon is not a wild goose or a swan, and has no ability to rescue its own kind in the air. Perhaps they were so afraid of such a tragic fate that they had suddenly fallen on them, so they abandoned the "White Maiden" and flew away together, landing on the top of the outpost across the river.

At the moment when the "White Maiden" fell only a few feet above the ground, "she" suddenly turned over, flapped her wings a few times, rose to the height flutteringly, circled crookedly for a small circle, and after identifying the direction, flew diagonally to the side of the river, towards the sky above our heads. In the center of the river, "she" began to unconsciously prickly prick, like a paper stacked airplane, her wings gliding motionless.

"She" fell at my feet.

I immediately bent down and carefully lifted it from the snow with both hands.

Where "she" fell, the snow turned red.

"She's" white feathers turned red.

My hands are red.

"She," the two black bean pigeon eyes glared at me.

One of our partners waved his fists and yelled at the other side of the river: "You bastards!"

The squad leader slapped Zhang Wenqi hard.

Zhang Wenqi picked up a shovel and was about to rush across the river to fight hard. It took a lot of effort for the two partners to subdue him......

The death of the "White Girl" has caused a kind of grief in our hearts. Although this grief cannot be described as "enormous" or "intense", it is real and can also be said to be heavy. Because there is a condensed element of grief that is not part of grief. This ingredient is like a cancer cell, which is already lurking in our hearts. It mixes with grief and intertwines to give the death of a pigeon an aggressive gravity and severity. It can even be said that the grief in our hearts, which contains a heterogeneous component, is beyond the normal, has a certain terrible nature, and is beyond the norm.

We buried the "White Girl" by the Heilongjiang River. We stood for a long time in the place where "her" was buried, expressing the condolences of our young people for the death of this innocent bird. We all felt a deep sense of guilt for the death of this beautiful pigeon. After all, "she" was shot because she was unknowingly involved in the tacit "war" between us and them, the few Soviet border guards. But what exactly did "she" die? This is something we cannot explain to ourselves. Our condolences to "her" also mean anger and hatred for several Soviet border guards on the other side of the river. I believe that they knew that day and then. Because they were all standing on the other side of the river looking at us. They did not disperse until we were gone.

For days on end, we all became silent. We still go to the bunker every day to dig sand. But they no longer went to the river every morning to wipe their faces with snow. They don't often be seen. I can't hear the pleasant pigeon whistle anymore. The place is more peaceful than ever. Indeed, this is a false silence. Something invisible, terrible, was growing, and permeating the silence of this place.

Finally, one day, we heard the pigeon whistle again. Perhaps, the Soviet border guards thought that the passage of time had dispelled the haze of the "pigeon incident"! At first, the pigeon whistle was very small, as if it came from a very long distance. Gradually, the whistle approached. Finally, it was very clear to hear it, and it was surrounded by the small wooden house where we lived. Wandering like a cry.

We were all taking naps, sitting up one after another, listening to the intermittent whistle with mixed feelings. Before, it sounded so pleasant, how wonderful, how delightful! But at that moment, the sound was harsh and angry.

Our "White Girl" was killed by them. Their pigeons have the audacity to violate our airspace again!"Where is Zhang Wenqi? Where is Zhang Wenqi?" The squad leader suddenly found that Zhang Wenqi was not there. Somehow alerted him, he lifted the corner of his mattress to look at the shotgun. The shotgun is gone. The small tin box with the shotguns is gone. "Go get him back now!," the squad leader yelled. We walked out of the small wooden house in disheveled clothes and looked around, and there was no shadow of Zhang Wenqi in our field of vision. Zhang Wenqi ......" we shouted in unison. It was the pigeon whistle that answered us.

Strange, where will he go?

The pigeons, their five pigeons, were still flying around our little wooden house. As if they were nostalgic for our "white girl", they circled and circled, flying very low and slowly.

On the other side of the river, Soviet soldiers were looking at us and pointing fingers at each other. A Soviet soldier waved a small flag again, trying to lure their pigeons back. But their pigeons don't fly back. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. The five pigeons that were flying over our little wooden house fell to the ground one after another. He died when he landed, and none of them moved. Zhang Wenqi slowly stood up from the roof of our small wooden house, holding a shotgun in one hand, and a wisp of green smoke emitted from the barrel of the gun. A strong ** smell gradually wafted in the air. He jumped off the roof, handed the shotgun and bullets to the squad leader, and said with a gloomy face, "Only one shotgun was used." "On the other side of the river, the Soviet soldiers stood as if they had been frozen, and several stone figures froze.

The Soviet soldier waving the small flag, which was still held in the air, waving in the wind. The carcasses of five pigeons were scattered in various positions on the snow around us. The power and radiation of the shotgun were so great that each pigeon must have been hit by countless iron sands. One by one, we looked at the slaughterer in amazement. "You ......" the squad leader pointed at Zhang Wenqi and was speechless. "What am I?" Zhang Wenqi also glared at all of us, rightly arrogant, "I want to avenge our 'white girl'! As long as it is one of their pigeons, fly over, I will shoot down one." Two of them flew over, and I knocked down a pair! This is called 'If a man does not offend me, I will not offend anyone, but if a man offends me, I will offend someone'! This is called 'a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye'! This is called '......Chinese is not easy to provoke.'"

We buried their pigeons together with our White Maiden. We think that the pigeon, whether theirs or ours, is a bird that symbolizes friendship and peace. Every pigeon that dies in this place is innocent, sad, and pitiful.

They will never develop hostility and hatred between them, and they will never attack or hurt each other. They are the most peaceful birds of their kind. It is the endless hostility and hatred between human beings that has led to the sad end of these birds, which symbolize friendship and peace. We are guilty of these pigeons that have been shot by murderous bullets and beast-killing bullets. They, those Soviet soldiers, were also guilty. As a result, our hearts cannot be at peace, but we do not know what will happen to the hearts of those Soviet soldiers.

If any life has a soul, may the souls of these pigeons fly together in the blue sky of another world without worry! In another world, there will be no borders and no wars! As soon as the squad leader returned to the house, he snatched the shotgun from Zhang Wenqi's hand, disassembled it without a word, and stuffed it into the thatch under the mattress. We thought that the squad leader would beat Zhang Wenqi hard, but the squad leader didn't beat him, but he didn't look at him. No one said a word to Zhang Wenqi. This silence embarrassed Mr. Zhang. He sat down in his bunk with his head bowed, like a criminal awaiting trial.

We all knew that we would never hear that pleasant pigeon whistle again. Never. Whether it sounds wonderful to us or harsh to us, the pigeon's whistle is gone forever in this quiet place.

There will be no pigeons flying in the sky here. Either ours or theirs...... However, the war did not spread from the Ussuri River to the Heilongjiang River. Despite this fact, we all believe that there was actually a small war here, in this traditionally quiet frontier. The innocent death of six pigeons under a rifle bullet and a shotgun shotgun is a testament to this war. ...... A few days before we had finished digging the sand and were about to leave there, in the evening, before the night had completely fallen, a snowstorm blew. All of a sudden, this quiet place became a place where ghosts wept and wept. A broken chimney on the roof of our small wooden house was scraped off, and bursts of choking yellow smoke came out of the kang hole. Zhang Wenqi volunteered to install the chimney. The squad leader said quietly: "Of course you should go, because you have already had the experience of climbing to the roof once." ”

It was the first thing the squad leader said to him in a few days. During these days, each of us rarely spoke to him as a punishment for him. Although he became obedient and self-serving, he no longer played the role of an expert on the "Sino-Soviet question".

He set up his cigarette pipe, and when he returned to the house, to our surprise, he took a pigeon out of his padded jacket......! What did you use to knock it down? You kid is so disgusting......" The squad leader grabbed him by the collar and clenched his fists. It can be seen that the squad leader is extremely angry. "No...... I didn't knock it down, it was it that it got lost and landed on our roof......" he hurriedly explained. The squad leader slowly let go of his collar. We all gathered around to watch this pigeon. It was gray, and its wings had not yet grown and stiffened, and they were already frozen. "It's called 'Grey Raindrop', a fine variety. Zhang Wenqi said in an expert tone. The squad leader said: "Shut your mouth, you don't deserve to talk about pigeons." Zhang Wenqi muttered: "I just understand, I have raised pigeons." "We haven't had pigeons, but we've never killed pigeons!" I said to him. This sentence pierced his pride, and he retreated to his bunk, and sat down silently, silent. The squad leader placed the pigeon in the quilt, showing only its head. It warmed up, turned its head, looked at us in surprise, and cooed. "I almost forgot, it still has a letter tied to its leg......" Zhang Wenqi walked over again, took out a letter from his pocket, and handed it to the squad leader respectfully. The squad leader took the letter, looked at it and said, "This is another pigeon of theirs, and the envelope is theirs." "There was nothing written on the envelope, and a portrait of a person's head was printed in the lower left corner. One of the companions said, "Is this bald Brezhnev? Why doesn't it look like it?" "Get out of the way!" the squad leader glanced at him contemptuously and said, "Mayakovsky." "Mayakovsky, why haven't you seen this Soviet name in the newspapers?" "Former Minister of Defense?" Author of the famous long poem "Lenin". In the end, we all regret that we were born a few years late, and we don't know a lot of things, so we can't help but be ashamed one by one, and we are also in awe of the class leader. "Could this letter be ...... "Don't forget that it's the seventies, and no country will ever send any more military orders with pigeons!"

"Not necessarily, we don't have a phone line here, and they don't have a phone line on their side! Besides, there was a heavy snowfall a few days ago, maybe the road on their side was blocked by heavy snow......

Everyone is gossiping, competing to be the first to say their guesses and judgments, and they all think that their words cannot be ignored. These speculations and judgments, after listening to each other, all feel that each has some truth, and it is not ridiculous.

Because we are on the Sino-Soviet border. The idea of being ready to fight at all times controls every nerve in our brain. "Don't shout!" the class leader shouted. He hesitated for a moment, slowly tore open the letter, pulled out the letter, and looked at it silently.

We're all going to put our heads on the letter, too. The letter was written in Russian. We couldn't understand a word, but we naturally thought of a sudden military attack, lightning tactics, a conspiracy to further create an armed conflict on the border, and a strategic plan for a full-scale invasion of China. It was as if we had seen millions of tanks and millions of planes between the lines of the Russian paper......

The squad leader began to be stunned with the letter. We eagerly pressed him for it. "I really shouldn't have opened this letter, I just listened to your nonsense, and I have a little doubt that the letter is written with an order for military action. "The squad leader regretted it. "It's not a military operation order, what is written?" "Since you can read it, read it to us!" "This is an ordinary letter from home." The squad leader whispered, then looked at the letter and translated it to us sentence by sentence:

Dear Lushka, my good son, I haven't heard from you for thirteen days. Thirteen days, can you understand how long this has meant to me? I have been looking forward to your letter every day, and my heart is very disturbed and afraid. Fear of hearing gunfire coming from the direction of the border, fear that you will be killed.

In a few days, our baby will be born. I hope to have a boy who, like you, has blue eyes. But I don't want him to be a border guard like you in the future. The people in the village said that all of our soldiers who died on Zhenbao Island were young men. Why should we fight with the Chinese? They are our close neighbors!

Dear Lushka, my good man, I am always on the lookout for you! I am afraid that you will be killed if I see you again, that I myself will become a young widow, that our little baby will be born without a father. Write me a letter and let me know you're alive and well!

Is it snowing so hard in your place? It's snowing so hard here that many of the roofs of the houses in the village have collapsed. The road has also been blocked by heavy snow, and several tractors in the village have been clearing the road from morning to night these days. The village postman fell off his motorcycle and broke his foot, but no one wanted to take over his errand. The whole village has not received a letter for more than ten days. I had no choice but to let our "gray raindrops" deliver this letter. It will bring your letter to me back to the village, and I am sure it will not disappoint me.

Dear Lushka, my good man, write me a letter quickly, as soon as possible! You have no way of knowing how much I miss you, and if I had not been more than a hundred miles away from you, if I had not carried our little baby in my belly, I would have rushed to you.

Kiss the Nadja you love you

The squad leader read the letter for a long time, and everyone was silent. This letter touched the hearts of each and every one of us. We are all embarrassed by the boundless speculation and misjudgment of this letter. We've also received letters like this, but of course they weren't from our wives, and we haven't had a real love experience yet! How many of the exact same words were found in the letter we received and in this letter from a young Soviet wife to her husband!

We're all thinking about something. Only the squad leader said to himself: "I really shouldn't have opened people's letters!" ...... Early the next morning, the blizzard passed. After a snowstorm last night, a snow ridge appeared in the center of the river. The divine power of nature has created a boundary between us and them in the center of the river.

The squad leader tied the letter to the pigeon's leg again and released it with deep apologies. It circled the air several times and slowly landed on top of the outpost across the river. The squad leader wrote a few lines of Russian on the letter. He wrote:

The pigeons are stateless.

War and peace, we want peace.

Having opened this letter, we are ashamed of our actions, please forgive us!

I said, "Write a few more words of explanation!"

The squad leader said, "These three sentences are enough. ”

Zhang Wenqi also said: "Enough." ”

After another day, we left the place and went back to the company.

None of us spoke of the letter to anyone in the company, and we were ashamed to talk about the act of reading a letter from a young Soviet wife to her husband......

Now, fifteen years ago, I have gone from youth to adulthood. I haven't been back to Harbin for eight years. Coming back this time, I saw that it had changed a lot. The first is that the sound of air defense sirens can no longer be heard, and the rice-shaped air defense notes are no longer visible. Many bomb shelters were turned into underground hotels, underground restaurants, underground shops. The air-raid shelters dug by the common people have been turned into vegetable cellars. Newly built high-rise buildings are rising from the ground. This beautiful city, which seemed to be "contributed" to the Sino-Soviet war fifteen years ago, is being built more beautifully, developing more rapidly and prosperously. The history of the past 15 years has not been written in accordance with the prophecies of the "Sino-Soviet War" 15 years ago. Reality comfortably disproves this prophecy.

Then I thought about how important peace is to the people of any country.

During the Spring Festival last year, a Soviet general led several attachés on Chinese territory to rejoice with Chinese border guards. Heilongjiang TV broadcast this TV news, and every Chinese person who watched it did not think it was incomprehensible.

Then I thought that the people's understanding of peace is deeper than the understanding of war. Our people are as happy as the children of the Soviet Union are happy to accept Christmas gifts. So I really wanted to go to the Heilongjiang River, to the place where we dug sand fifteen years ago. I don't know if that grave is still so peaceful. I wonder if there are still pigeons flying in the sky there. I wonder if I can still hear the pigeon whistle. I don't know if we can still find the place where we buried the six pigeons? I remember that we nailed a pickaxe to that place as a marker, but we didn't think that the city of Harbin still exists today, not a ruin......