"On March 11, the 22nd year of the Republic of China, this is a night after the spring rain, the night sky is full of stars and the moonlight is bright.

If I had been sitting in a university classroom, I would have been glad to be able to look up at the stars above the most magnificent works of the nation.

If I were a first-time registrant, I would be even happier to write a poem or essay in the newspaper and win praise from many people.

Unfortunately, I am not a student now, nor am I a trainee journalist for the first time in the workplace. On this beautiful night, as a war correspondent, I participated in this night raid together with the officers and men of the 29th Army who were ordered to fight back against the Japanese invaders.

I was actually scared, really, although I was calm on the surface, but only I knew that when I saw the first fireworks from the grenades in my hands thrown by the officers and soldiers, my clothes were actually soaked.

I thought I wouldn't be afraid, because I had seen the resolute faces lined up neatly, and the red silk on the tail ring of the big knife on their backs was like a mountain red that was about to bloom in this spring, and it was extremely beautiful.

I don't think I'd be scared if they were there.

But I was wrong, and it was because of them that I was afraid, would be afraid. It's not that they can't protect me, it's that I'm afraid to see them die, I'm afraid to see them fall one by one and never get up again.

I know that my heart is not as tough as I thought.

But I have to be tenacious.

Because, death is here, has become commonplace.

If I were not stronger, how would I tell you what is happening here, about your compatriots who are being defended by our heroes.

Yes, I call them heroes, I think, they deserve that title.

Dear compatriots, you may be cheering for this great victory at Xifengkou and cheering for the 29th officers and men who annihilated more than 700 Japanese soldiers, but in addition to cheering, please observe a three-minute silence for the more than 600 officers and soldiers who died in this battle.

I don't know the names of any of them, but I would like to write their stories.

I saw the body of a young soldier, dead, but his hands still firmly holding the Japanese rifle stuck in his chest.

In front of him, the corpse of a Japanese soldier who had lost his weapon lay down.

I didn't see him fighting, but I thought at first, maybe he didn't want to die! I saw hope for life in his eyes that he didn't close, but he still chose death, using his chest as a shield and locking the Japanese criminal's sword and gun with his own hands.

At that moment, I understood that his hope was not to let himself live, but to keep his comrades-in-arms alive, and only in this way could his comrades-in-arms successfully kill the Japanese invaders.

But my heart trembled, the young soldier's wish was not fully fulfilled, ten meters away, the body of another Chinese soldier fell down, after killing the Japanese soldier, this soldier, also died, died in another fight.

Such scenes can be seen everywhere on the battlefield, they are sacrificed, but I have to fulfill my duty to record the moment of their death.

I'm still scared, I'm still scared, I hope there are fewer scenes like this, but the truth is cruel, the battlefield is even more brutal.

Even though more and more Japanese invaders have been annihilated, and the balance of victory has tilted in favor of my Chinese son, my heart is getting more and more painful, and the pain makes me almost unable to breathe.

This feeling of vulnerability until I saw another picture.

That's a standard-bearer, a soldier holding a military flag, it should be a standard-bearer!

Please forgive me for being a first-time battlefield war correspondent, except for the military rank, I don't know much about the establishment of the army.

But I can't ask him if he's the standard-bearer, because he's dead.

The military flag was planted dead in the fertile soil of the high ground, and he, holding the flagpole of the military flag, was holding so tightly that he was actually dead, still standing there with his flag.

Stand in the dawn of victory.

His head, hanging down, his body and the flagpole of the battle flag take on a "human" shape.

The mountain breeze caressed slightly, and the corner of the battle flag gently caressed his young and pale face.

I don't know how to describe this picture, maybe there is only one sentence to give to this flag bearer, and also to the Chinese officers and soldiers who died on this battlefield: why the battle flag is so picturesque, and the blood of heroes stains it red.

I've always felt like I'm not too strong, and I've always had a strong belief that I'm going to have nightmares for a long time after going through this battle. But when I write this, it's already more than a dozen hours later.

In the middle, because of extreme exhaustion, I used to close my eyes and take a nap, but there was no fear in my dream, and this bright red battle flag appeared in my dream, which made me extremely reassured.

I am no longer afraid of facing death and will no longer be afraid of death, not because of numbness, but because I know that I have such a group of heroic soldiers, heroic people to protect.

I actually want to ask them, what they think, or if they're afraid.

When dawn came, we had already won, and all the death squad soldiers had withdrawn to the Great Wall positions, and I met an old soldier who was squatting in the trench and resting, smoking a cigarette, he was indeed very old, and his wrinkles were much deeper than my father's.

He didn't wear a military rank, and I had no way of knowing his position, so I could only call him a veteran.

The veteran bared his teeth and smiled for a long time after listening to my childish questions, his perennial smoking teeth were a little yellow, and his beard that seemed to have not been shaved for more than a month looked very down, I think he would be unlucky if he was met by his superior, especially when he looked at me and smiled with that expression.

'I'm afraid of hanging! If you're scared, won't the little devil come? Naturally, he should sleep, eat, eat, drink, sleep well, and wait for the little devil to come and kill him. ’

These are the old man's words, but please forgive me for not knowing how to write the word diao, it should be a very rude word!

No one had ever spoken so rudely in front of me, and I should have gotten up and gone without saying a second word to him.

But I didn't, even though I saw a lot in the eyes of that rude-grained veteran.

He looked at me with a desire for a woman, please trust my instincts as a woman; There is also the respect that I should have as a journalist and a cultural person, but there is no fear.

Not to me, but when I asked him if he was afraid of the Japanese invaders who were several times larger than me, his eyes were as calm as his eyes looked at my chest from time to time.

At that moment, I finally knew why the young soldiers fought so bravely.

Yes, it's not that they are not afraid, it's just, that fear is useless.

What a simple truth.

It's useless, why do you think about it?