Even if this feeling has nothing to do with external things, as long as it is flashed in the feeling, it is a valuable and good sentence. Following the prompts of the author of the article, I tried my best to capture what I felt and thought at that moment:

Spring Water Township, on the hillside a hundred miles away, the grove originally existed quietly. However, those few shells suddenly made their fate,

The earth has changed dramatically, the dense groves have burned into a sea of fire, and the peaceful land has become a scorched earth. What a pain it must be for that innocent hill!

"On one side of the hill that carried too much emotion, at this time, it was smashed and breathless.

The groves burned in the smoke of war, and the hard stones shattered like glass or porcelain. ”

Suddenly, two lines of poetry flashed through my mind. I couldn't help but ask myself: Is this poetry? But then, it felt like it was gushing out, bursting out, and I wanted to stop, as if I couldn't stop:

"Command's order: reload one shot at a time, put it!

Assault. Salvo. Angry shells carry anger that cannot be excreted as soon as they are discharged.

Let the quiet hillside be unable to dodge, let the weak confrontation unable to raise its head, let the standing tree not stand upright, and make a lush grass and tree crop stop life.

This is the prelude to love and war, the heart-pounding touch. It is the trembling in the pouring out, the forbearance in listening. It was the storm and the torrential rain before the onslaught.

The miraculous rocket launcher, perhaps a one-sided meteor shower in the curved firmament, is the return of the enemy before the mass of death.

The drill of the artillery unit, the artillery position in the actual combat situation. Indirect strikes at a distance of tens of kilometers. Blind coverage with accurate positioning.

130 rocket launchers erupted, and one explosion after another questioned the silent elevation and depth of a mountain.

The slash of metal like a sharp sword, the scorching heat of each piece tests the determination of a real city and the map.

The blazing poisonous flames concentrate intense and brief love and hate. In the burning of the fire, I don't know who is wasting whose energy, who is destroying whose vitality?

In this ruthless destruction, those usual morals and consciences have been deconstructed again and again.

I think, in the silence after the torrential rain of rockets, when the dust settles on the position:

What awaits the enemy is a pile of steel helmets and wreckage, but what awaits the mighty artillery fighters is the flowers of victory, which bloom like roses on the battlefield.

I felt that it was almost enough for a poem, so I hurriedly stopped, because before the assistant left, he reminded me: It's time for dinner! Today is the day of the exercise, and it is said that every unit will have a meal to celebrate.

I conceived a poem and ran to the cafeteria in high spirits, and my comrades had already raised their glasses. Seeing that I was late, the squad leader glared at me:

"Wenhua, what are you busy with? Old Song said that he called you twice at the door, and you couldn't bother to come out. ”

"Report squad leader, I wrote a poem in the reading room just now, which is to write that we will drill and drill. "When I saw this enthusiastic celebration, I was so happy that I forgot the common sense that my creation should be kept secret.

"I, have you really written poetry?" the squad leader suddenly became happy and said:

"The assistant has already given our class the task of publishing a blackboard newspaper, and I am worried that no one will write the manuscript. Your poem is the content of this issue of the blackboard newspaper. ”

"Come! Let's raise a glass together to celebrate the success of the parade! Congratulations to the third class for winning the queue training!" As soon as the first glass of wine of the third class was raised, the assistant was heard shouting from the leadership seat.

"Congratulations, congratulations!" In a burst of laughter, the people of the third class made the first cup. At this time, the first and second classes came over and forced the Han squad leader to drink a few more glasses of wine.

Then, the head of the unit offered to toast me to the queue training pacesetter. I saw the unit commander and other comrades-in-arms of the other classes raise their glasses and walk to the wine table of the third class to persuade them to drink. I saw the head of the unit toasting, but I didn't dare not drink, so I toasted.

However, seeing so many people toasting themselves at the same time made me worried. This wine, if you don't drink it, it's rude, and if you drink it, you'll get drunk. At this time, the squad leader said wittily:

"Brothers, I drank my first glass of wine, and the etiquette is over. The rest of the wine Wenhua can not drink, shall we punish him to recite the newly written poems?"

"Good!" shouted the crowd. But they only knew that I was very good at work, and they didn't think that I would write any other poems. This squad leader, is he there to brag for his subordinates!

Unexpectedly, I took out a piece of paper from my pocket and read it aloud.

At first, everyone thought it was a little interesting, but the following sentences were a little incomprehensible. Is this a poem? It doesn't rhyme at all!

Just when everyone felt that they were confused, there were a few scattered applause. People saw that the applause was given by the co-ordinator.

"This poem is good! It's so meaningful! Wenhua, I didn't expect that you are not only a kung fu master, but also a poet!" Seeing the assistant praise this poem like this, people's doubts were dispelled.

They may not understand poetry, but they know that the assistant is a top student in the military academy and writes well. If he can praise my poetry, that means it's really good.

"Poetry is good. But as soon as we heard that sentence, we felt that the clouds and mountains were foggy. It's better to watch Yangge. Wenhua, let's have a set of punches to cheer everyone up. "The chief is a rectum, so he can say whatever he wants.

His words do represent the meaning of many people. Now is the era of cultural fast food, and poetry is not popular in the literary and artistic circles, let alone these soldiers at the wine table?

"Let's fight a set of good-looking ones, let's have a set of Shaolin Temple boxing techniques!" Zhang You was the first to shout.

"Okay, what do you want to see?" I think this level is in a catastrophe, if you don't play a decent set of boxing techniques, your comrades-in-arms won't let them go, and in addition, there is a commander there to help them fight there!

"Playing "Shaolin Temple Boxing". "Zhang You doesn't know why he always thinks of Shaolin Temple.

So, I put down my wine glass, tightened my belt, and played a set of Shaolin Changsi boxing with my bare hands.