How many times has this boxing technique been performed on TV, how many years have people watched it, and it is still enduring. performed it by himself, and his comrades-in-arms still watched it with fascination.

A set of boxing techniques, fought three times in a row, and the comrades-in-arms were fascinated by it. At the end of the third time, the head of the unit took the lead in applauding and called on everyone to cheer. My fist has become a toast song for my comrades-in-arms.

When I boxed, people watched with bated breath, and they couldn't bear it anymore after not drinking for a long time. At the end of the performance, of course, people set off a climax of drinking and toasting.

"Hey, Wenhua, you're coming. "The assistant originally wanted to talk to me about the poem, but I didn't expect the head of the unit to stir it up, so I wanted to continue the topic just now.

However, when people started drinking, there was no way to talk about the occasion. The assistant looked at the noise in the dining room and simply pulled me into the kitchen.

The food for drinking was basically fried and served on the table, and the pots and pans left in the kitchen were silent there, and at present, only here could we talk properly.

"Wenhua, this poem is really good. In my opinion, it is completely capable of publication, and if it is only published on the blackboard, it will be a bit of a mess. "The assistant is honest and generally doesn't fool people.

"I wrote it in the blackboard newspaper. "I was talking about my thoughts, and I really didn't think about the announcement.

"However, if you want to publish it, you have to ask someone to give you advice. Now it's a bit rough...... "The assistant seems to see the fly in the ointment.

"Then ask the assistant to correct it!" I think the assistant seems to understand poetry. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been published.

"Where can I do it? I just watch. I don't dare. I see, let our Chief Yang show it!" the assistant suddenly brought up Chief Yang, I don't know if this Chief Yang is the one who is the training unit?

"Is it the head of the training unit?" I asked.

"Yes. That's him. He is a graduate of the Chinese Department of Sichuan University, and he should be from a scientific class! He himself is also a great talent. Let him see, guaranteed to be rewarded. ”

"Hmm. "I certainly can't argue with that. But I don't know what Chief Yang would say about this new poem. If he also belonged to the path of a traditional lyricist, his poem would probably have been shot all at once.

"Well, I'll go to him now. "The assistant can't wait," he is eating in the cafeteria, and if he enters the office, he will not have time. ”

"Then I'll have to copy it well!" I thought, it's not polite to get the first draft straight after it's written, right?

"It's okay, I can see it clearly. Just give it to him. No problem. With that, the assistant took out the piece of paper, waved it at me, and left.

Oh. I think the assistant is so confident that it's hard to say anything myself. The assistant is a battalion-level cadre and his own immediate superior. Management Unit so many people,

It's not easy to get in touch with the coordinator individually. It may be a jealous thing for an associate to be able to talk to himself on such an equal footing!

I went back to the table and thought about how depressed I had been when I heard the news of the band's disbandment. Thanks to the squad leader and assistant who gave me the opportunity to practice,

If it weren't for the care of the squad leader and assistant, he might be like Wang Baoyu, a serviceman who does nothing.

I took the opportunity to borrow flowers to offer Buddha, toasted a glass of wine to the squad leader, and then, took the wine glass again, walked away from my place, and toasted to Chief Yang, Yongfa and other people who cared and sympathized with me one by one.

Because the reason for the toast was reasonable, people drank my toast dry, and there was no lawsuit at all.

After drinking wine for a while, the cook brought the boiled decanting soup, and the meal was about to end. The head of the unit is urging everyone to hurry up and eat staple foods. The assistant returned happily.

He stuffed the manuscript of the poem in his hand into me, and the two of them filled the two glasses with the rest of the wine on the table, and dried them together.

It seems that this poem seems to have been affirmed by Chief Yang, otherwise, the assistant wouldn't have come back and drank with me so happily.

When I returned to the dormitory, I opened the manuscript of the poem to see what kind of revisions Chief Yang had proposed? However, I did not expect that Chief Yang would directly revise the draft with a red pen without proposing a principled revision.

I was happy all of a sudden, and I knew in my heart that Chief Yang understood the new poem. Hurriedly found a newly bought manuscript paper and re-copied the revised poem manuscript of the mechanism chief:

A song of fire

A land that carries too many emotions, at this time, out of breath.

Burning in the pungent smoke of gunpowder, glass or porcelain shattered.

Assault. Salvo. Carry anger that cannot be excreted at the beginning. Let the confrontation not raise its head, let the counterattack not straighten its waist, and make a lush crop and weapons stop jointing.

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.

It's a one-sided meteor shower in the curved firmament, a reflection before the mass of death.

Artillery positions. Indirect strikes at a distance of tens of kilometers. Blind coverage with accurate positioning.