Chapter 8: I Don't Want to Live

"The Soviets began to interrogate me. Pen ~ fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info before the interrogation, they came to my hospital room, and one of them, a middle-aged man who looked like an officer, said a few words to me. The interpreter told me to prepare and go for interrogation. I thought about it and said, 'You will interrogate me, but you must promise me four conditions.' ’

The translator asks, 'What are the four conditions?' ’

I said, 'The first is to return my Chairman Mao's quotations, the second is that I want to meet my comrades-in-arms, the third is to return my military uniform, and the fourth is to return my guns. ’

The interpreter gave my words to the officer, who stared at me hysterically for a while, and then asked the interpreter to say to me, 'You have to remember the identity, you are a prisoner of our army, and we will not agree to any of your conditions.' Okay, get ready, let's go. ’

I know it's not my cause, but I say in my heart: Don't you want any answer from me.

Because I had gauze wrapped around my face and a strap on my right chest, I couldn't move. I had to ask someone to come and put that hospital gown on me. At this point, I could no longer refuse to wear this outfit. Because I have no other clothes to wear, I can't wear shorts to be interrogated by the enemy. Once I was dressed, I was helped up from the bed by them. I shouted to them, 'Go away. When they saw that I was glaring at them with cold eyebrows and angry eyes, they did not come any closer to me.

Maybe it's because I'm still sick, maybe I've been sleeping in bed all these days, so when I just got out of bed, I felt like my eyes were shining, my head was spinning, and I couldn't stand on the ground, as if I was going to pass out, but I just held on to the side of the bed so that I couldn't fall down. When the Soviet soldiers saw that I was pale, weak, and sweaty, they motioned for me to sit down and rest first. But I said, 'No. ’

Soviet servicemen surrounded me and led me out of the ward. Like Xu Yunfeng and Sister Jiang going to the execution ground, I made a righteous and awe-inspiring look and looked at death as if I were at home, holding on to the handrail of the stairs, and descending the stairs step by step from the third floor. Went down to the first floor. I saw two military jeeps parked at the door on the first floor. They let me into the jeep in front of me, and there were people watching me.

The car drove through the open field, and I wondered how they would interrogate me. I have seen many movies in which the enemy interrogates revolutionaries, and I am most impressed by "Eternal Life in the Fire". When the enemy interrogated the revolutionaries, they always did everything they could, whipping them with steel, branding them with irons, sitting on tiger chairs, and pouring chili soup. Can I handle this? I couldn't stop asking myself. But I warned myself: even if the skin is open and the flesh is broken, I can't bow my head. Anyway, I didn't want to live for a long time, and if I really let them die, I would have got my wish. If I had been tortured, I would have smashed the light bulb on the wall of my room and been electrocuted. The idea came to me when I happened to see that light bulb on the wall. Because when I was in school, there was a student who touched the power supply with his hand because he didn't understand electricity.

"The car drove for about 40 minutes and entered a military station. It was full of soldiers, as well as many large and small military vehicles. The car was parked in front of a building. The soldiers let me out of the car and led me into the building. Entering the aisle from the gate, walking a few dozen meters down the aisle, turning another corner, entering a room.

To my surprise, there were no torture instruments for the interrogators, and there was no creepy atmosphere. The room wasn't very large, just like a normal office, with a desk and a few chairs. Across from the desk was a chair on which the interrogator was sitting. But there was still a room in the room, but the door was closed inside, and there was a window facing out. Through the window, I can't see the inside, but I think the inside can definitely see the outside.

The soldiers took me into the interrogation room and stood aside. The middle-aged man in charge gestured to the chair across from him and motioned for me to sit there. I sat down in that chair and raised my head high to see how they interrogated me. After a while, another young officer with a relatively high position entered the room, sat down in the chair of the chief judge, nodded to the others, and signaled that the interrogation began. I also felt the atmosphere in the room start to get heavy.

The chief judge began to question me, and the interpreter sitting next to me translated for me.

'You're so young, you're still a kid, you must miss your mom and dad so much, right?' ’

I said, 'I miss Mom and Dad.' ’

The judge said, 'What is your name, young man?' ’

I don't want to answer. Because I don't want them to know my name.

The presiding judge asked, 'How old are you?' You became a soldier at such a young age, and you were forced by someone, right? ’

I was still like that, looking at him motionlessly. Just as if he was talking to the wooden man.

'What unit are you in and how many people are there in the unit?' ’

This is a military secret, and I can't say that I will be killed. My mouth was closed tightly, and I stared at the judge expressionlessly.

Seeing that I held my head high, the chief judge didn't say anything, and said a call to the soldier next to me, and then put away the leather bag on the table, got up and left. I think they will definitely use torture instruments to force me to answer. But the interpreter said to me, 'After the interrogation, go back to the hospital.' I woke up from a dream and felt a little incredible, could it be that they had come so far to ask me these words?

When I returned to the hospital, I was always nervous, thinking that one day my comrades-in-arms or others would ask me: What did the Soviet army ask you during the interrogation? How do I answer? If I tell the truth, they will definitely not believe me, and they will even have suspicions about me, thinking that I will not tell the truth and want to hide something.

That day, I went on a hunger strike and asked to see my three comrades. I haven't seen them since I got off the train. Now I can walk around and would love to meet them. However, the Soviets told me that the three of them had died of their wounds. I didn't believe it, saying they were lying to me. But the translator told me that because Pei Yingzhang's neck was pierced, he was too seriously injured, and he was already out of breath before the train arrived at the station. Jing Changxiong suffered a serious brain injury and was in a coma all the time, and died the day after arriving at the hospital. Reporter Wen was seriously injured and refused treatment, and on his deathbed he shouted 'Down with Su Xiu, down with the new Tsar!' ''Long live Chairman Mao, long live!'' 'slogan. I don't know if what the interpreter said to me was true, but what is certain is that the three of them were indeed sacrificed.

My comrades-in-arms who were captured with me have all died, so what's the point of me living. I cried for three days straight. No, it would be a shame for me to continue to live after the other three comrades-in-arms had died. I often can't sleep these days, thinking over and over again: Why don't you let me die?

The Soviets performed an operation on me and took out the piece of shrapnel from my mouth. After the operation, I was in a coma for two or three days, my brain was chaotic and faint, sometimes I felt that I was still alive, and sometimes I felt that I was dead. Because of the injuries I had on my cheeks and the corners of my mouth, which had just been operated on, and a piece of shrapnel between my cheek and nose in the flesh, my face was swollen so high that it hurt so much that my brain was constantly throbbing. I was shot through my right chest, the wound was so badly infected, and the pain made me shiver. My injuries are still very serious, and I am still struggling with life and death. But this struggle is too painful, too sinful, and too hopeless.

I longed to die, because I didn't want to endure this tormented pain; Because once I have overcome the pain of this injury, how will I face the pain of life in the future?

I remembered the photographs in the Soviet newspapers that I had seen, which had always left me feeling extremely humiliated and uneasy. This time, there were 38 recruits from Zhecheng County, Shangqiu, and 8 from the recruits who died on the nameless heights. But I was the only one who was captured by the Soviets.

How incredible and chilling it must be to be a soldier, especially a Chinese soldier, to be captured by the enemy?

I remember when I was in elementary school, I went to my cousin in middle school once. The school happened to be fighting a counter-revolutionary. The counter-revolutionary was a thin old man in his 50s. The thin old man was tied up with five flowers and held on the earthen platform of the rostrum, wearing a high hat made of white paper on his head, and a sign hanging on his body, which read: Defect to the enemy and betray the revolution.

At that time, a high school student wearing a Red Guard armband was speaking to expose his counter-revolutionary crime of defecting to the enemy. When the student had finished speaking, the head of the Red Guards, who presided over the meeting, questioned how many revolutionary comrades the thin old man had betrayed. The thin old man replied in the tone of an oath to Chairman Mao and his old man that he had only written a confession at that time, saying that he had voluntarily left the Communist Party, but that he had never betrayed anyone. The Red Guard host said that he was stubborn and refused to bow his head and confess his guilt, so he flew up and kicked the thin old man in the back. The old man fell to the ground and fell into the mud. Instead of pulling him up, the Red Guard host shouted the slogan, 'If the counter-revolutionaries do not give an honest account, there is only a dead end.' Nearly 1,000 teachers and students in the audience raised their arms at the same time and shouted slogans.

Seeing the pitiful appearance of the thin old man, I asked my cousin, 'Who is this man?' My cousin asked me, 'Do you know Zhang Guohua?' I said, 'Is it the Zhang Guohua who was the political commissar of the Chengdu Military Region?' The cousin said, 'Yes, that's him.' Then he said to me, 'When the Red Army was crossing the meadow, Zhang Guohua was the political commissar of the Political Teaching Brigade of the 1st Red Army, and this old man was the captain of the Teaching Brigade. However, while crossing the meadow, they encountered the enemy's cavalry, and while covering the breakthrough of the large army, the old man was captured by the Kuomintang cavalry, and in order to survive, the old man wrote a confession. After the special period began, the old man couldn't stay in his hometown in Hunan, so he ran here to take refuge with his relatives. However, it was still found out by the people. ’

At that time, I thought that this old man was really unlucky, if he hadn't been captured by the enemy, he would probably be similar to Zhang Guohua now, the commander or political commissar of a large military region.

If you want to talk about people who have been captured by the enemy, there is one in the production brigade next to our house, and everyone calls him Old Man Wang. is almost 40 years old, he is still a single person, lonely all day long, alone, no one cares about him, he doesn't care about others, he is always smoking with his head stuffy. I heard that he secretly ran out to join the anti-Japanese guerrillas when he was 13 years old, and then joined the army in the south and the north, killed the enemy and made meritorious contributions, and became a company commander. In 1950, he entered North Korea to participate in the War to Resist US Aggression and Aid Korea, but was captured in five battles, so after returning to China, he was not only expelled from the party, but also lost his military membership. Therefore, in our impression, he is similar to defecting to the enemy and treason.

Thinking about this, I couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat. I really can't figure out why so many people have sacrificed and let me live? Why don't you let someone else live and let me die? I joined the army as a soldier to protect my family and defend the country, kill the enemy and make meritorious contributions; I have already made up my mind to participate in this battle, and I am not afraid of sacrifice, even if I die on the battlefield and sacrifice my life for the country. If it weren't for the coma, I would have died with the enemy with the last grenade. However, I didn't have that opportunity. I hope that my comrades-in-arms and relatives will tolerate me, understand me, and forgive me.

Thinking like this, tears welled up in my eyes.

That morning, the Soviet soldiers took me to the interrogation room for interrogation. They asked me a lot of questions, all of which were about state secrets. But I'm just a seventeen-year-old recruit, and I don't know anything about the military secrets of these countries. And even if I knew, I couldn't tell them. As a result, their interrogation was again fruitless and fruitless. On the way back to the hospital, the interpreter told me, 'Your Prime Minister and our Prime Minister met together in Beijing after attending the funeral of General Secretary Ho Chi Minh, the leader of Vietnam, and our Prime Minister told your Prime Minister that you have a soldier surnamed Li who is still alive and being treated in our hospital, and your Prime Minister wants our Prime Minister to release you back.' Our Prime Minister has already agreed. In a few days, you'll be back home. ’

Our prime minister is, of course, Premier Zhou Enlai. As soon as I heard that Premier Zhou was personally asking me about my affairs and asking the Soviet army to let me return to China, I burst into tears. I said in my heart; Dear Premier Zhou, I want to thank you for the rest of my life! ”