What I'm going to talk about next is not a story, but a real story, a real event that happened in that red era.|151Kanshu.com Text||

The 80-year-old anti-Japanese veteran was my neighbor, and according to him, this was 60 years ago on the eve of the founding of the People's Republic of China.

Sixty years ago today, when one of their regiments was still fighting bloody battles on the battlefield of resistance against Japan, the news of Japan's surrender suddenly came from the loudspeaker. At that moment, everyone stood in place, looking at the Japanese troops who suddenly retreated in disbelief.

Japanese surrender? Is this a dream?

This is the end of the eight-year war of resistance?

Hu Zhou was stunned at that time, and he didn't know where to point the submachine gun in his hand.

The surrounding comrades-in-arms began to retreat under the organization of their respective company commanders, Hu Zhou reflected, and finally understood that this was the truth, the Japanese army surrendered, and after eight years of resistance, we were victorious!

Hu Zhou's heart surged with an indescribable heat, and he immediately looked for his comrades in the crowd.

Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, he grabbed a soldier beside him and asked eagerly: "I am from the third regiment and the eighth company, have you seen where the people from our company are?" ”

The soldier who was caught by him had a bloody face and couldn't hide his excitement, and muttered, "Victory, victory...... What did you say...... You belong to the Eighth Company, and I don't seem to have seen anyone from the Eighth Company. ”

The crowd retreated like a tide, and the Japanese army had retreated neatly in the blink of an eye, and a white flag was erected on the battlefield and fluttered in the wind in the undispersed gunsmoke.

Hu Zhou was squeezed by the flow of people and retreated, he kept looking for his comrades-in-arms everywhere, Lao Shi, Heizi, company commander, where are you, we are victorious, we don't have to fight!

Hu Zhou choked with a muffled thunder in his throat, wanting to shout loudly, wanting everyone to know this joy.

But Hu Zhou did not see his comrades, and he followed the retreating crowd back to the camp. The company commanders of each company were counting the number of people, and everyone was lined up neatly, only Hu Zhou stood alone.

At this moment, an ominous premonition arose.

Hu Zhou looked at the crowd gathered in the surrounding companies, but in the position of the three regiments and eight companies, there was only himself.

In the end, it was counted that more than 2,000 people were killed and missing in their reinforced regiment, and the Eighth Company, except for Hu Zhou, was all killed.

Hu Zhou felt that the sky had fallen.

His forehead was still bleeding, and the young face covered with gunpowder smoke could only see a pair of dark eyes, his gaze slowly swept over the camp, looking at the other comrades who were silently crying, his legs were weak, his knees were hard to smash on the ground, and the tears finally couldn't help falling.

When Hu Zhou was thirteen years old, it was the year of the great chaos in China, his father was a teacher, and he made a living by serving as a Xixi, but in the end, he almost didn't even have a Xixi, and then he encountered drought one after another, coupled with the Japanese entering the customs, Hu Zhou's parents were starved to death in such turbulent and famine years.

Thirteen-year-old Hu Zhou was skinny, he had no land and no skills, in order to be able to eat and not starve to death, he finally took a gun and joined the anti-Japanese army that was not yet a climate at that time.

In the past few years of the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, countless people have gone forward one after another, and one after another has died. Hu Zhou may be lucky, or it may be the blessing of a deceased relative, eight years! After eight years of bloody resistance, he miraculously survived to the present.

Those comrades-in-arms around him are all as close as brothers and sisters, and they have finally survived in the smoke of gunpowder until now, seeing that they are only one step away from New China, but they died on the final battlefield.

Unwilling, too unwilling.

After so many years, so many beacon people have survived, why did you all leave me in this time, the last battle.

That night, Hu Zhou drank wine. The army abstained from alcohol, and Hu Zhou got a bottle from a local farmer's house, and the wine was three or five brands of inferior wine, which was not only inferior, but also strong.

On this night, the three regiments held a 'celebration banquet', and the local people took out their best clothes to wear on their bodies, and every house was decorated with lanterns like the New Year.

During the day, the eldest girls and little daughters-in-law climbed the hillside to pick wild vegetables, and at night, all kinds of wild vegetables were put on the table, and the soldiers and civilians celebrated together.

Hu Zhou looked at the camp, where his comrades-in-arms were singing military songs with the common people:

This is our land,

This is our hometown,

We are heroic and strong,

We are united and strong

We fight for the survival of the Motherland,

Obey orders, defend the frontier,

Unite the people to resist violence,

Dedicate your strength to the motherland,

Complete the liberation of the Chinese nation.

The loud song wafted across the vast plains, like an elegy for a long time.

Hu Zhou drank high, his eyes were swollen and red, and he staggered to the battlefield yesterday.

The battlefield is barren and devoid of vegetation.

A scarlet moon hung in the sky, and the hazy moonlight cast an eerie veil over the surrounding landscape.

The moon is broken, just like Hu Zhou's heart that is about to break at the moment.

The corpses on the field have been disposed of, and they are all buried in a large pit nearby.

In those days, in order to prevent corpse plague, most of the corpses on the battlefield were dug deep pits for burial or directly incinerated.

These burial pits were scattered in a row, at least six or seven meters in diameter, and they were filled with earth, and the newly turned soil was still scarlet, I don't know whether it was the color of blood or the color of earth.

In a few years, wild grass will grow here, and it will gradually be forgotten, and no one will know these disappeared heroes, who once dedicated their life's blood and dreams to a common ideal.

Hu Zhou looked at the huge burial pits in front of him, thinking about his dead comrades, and finally couldn't help but kneel down with a puff. His hands were clutching at the dirt on the ground, and he wept bitterly beside a corpse pit.

Tears fell one by one into the newly turned land, staining the scarlet earth, and he felt that these were not enough, and the pain in his heart could not be expressed at all.

Just one step away, just one step.

New China is about to be founded, brothers, have you seen it, little Japan has surrendered!

But why, why am I the only one alive?

Hu Zhou was in pain, his voice was muffled and low, like a lone wolf cornered, and a hoarse roar came out of his throat.

The past years flashed in Hu Zhou's mind.

He remembered that on the march, in order to drive away the dull loud singing, which echoed in the mountains, shuttled through the snowfields, and trembled among the canyons, it always raised people's fighting spirits.

He remembered countless times when he and his comrades looked up at the starry sky and thought about the years to come.

Those years, those wars, those voices, are still so vivid in front of my eyes, echoing in my ears, but the old man has already left.

He remembered the first time he went to battle, and his legs trembled with fear at the sight of human blood, and the enemy's bayonets could not be dodged.

It was the comrades-in-arms around them who saved themselves again and again, blocked their guns and bullets for themselves, and pushed themselves away from the enemy's bayonets.

Why, when I'm strong enough to block bullets for you...... You didn't even give me a chance and just left.

Hu Zhou's heart was bleeding, and he couldn't forget the feeling of pain that life was worse than death.

Just as he was crying in the dark, a whirlwind suddenly blew in the wasteland.

The leaves on the ground were blown up by the whirlpool, Hu Zhou was blinded by the wind and sand, his eyes were stinging because of crying and the wind and sand, Hu Zhou stopped his tears, and felt that his eyeballs were stinging as if they were rubbed by stones, and he kept rubbing his eyes with his hands.

The wind around him became stronger and stronger, and countless small stones were swept up by the wind and hit Hu Zhou's body.

At this moment, it is the night of early spring, and the night breeze carries the spring cold, which makes people's skin have a pimple reaction.

Hu Zhou's body couldn't help shaking, and he felt that his kneeling knee seemed to be hit by a blown stone, and the stone hit the kneecap, causing pain.

Hu Zhou subconsciously took a step back, squinted his eyes against the whirlwind and looked down, this look, he suddenly felt chills all over his body, and his throat was tight.

I saw that in the scarlet soil, a miserable white hand was slowly stretching out, that hand was covered with blood, and it was trying to reach out at the moment, and his hand kept grabbing Hu Zhou's knee, as if he wanted to get up with strength.

Hu Zhou's heart seemed to be thrown into the air all of a sudden, the cold hairs on his body stood up one by one, his scalp tightened, his throat seemed to be choked by a pair of hands, and he couldn't even scream.

He crawled out almost on his hands and feet, crawling out of the confines of the corpse pit.

A whirlwind followed closely behind him, Hu Zhou's back was cold, and he subconsciously turned around to see that the hand was still crawling out.

The miserable white hands kept struggling in the soil, and the five fingers stretched out to the sky like a cry for help, as if they were dying.

It came to ......

Hu Zhou has encountered a lot of strange things on the battlefield over the years, he has seen too many living and dead people, he was just suddenly frightened just now, and now he eased up, his eyes stared at the hand, and a glimmer of hope suddenly rose in his heart, is it ...... Is there still a living mouth in the corpse pit?

As soon as this idea came out, Hu Zhou's heart was pounding, and the dead comrades immediately appeared in his heart.

And alive! It must be so!

Hu Zhou has been fighting for so many years, the army is his home, and his comrades-in-arms are his relatives.

He thought that he would be alone again from now on, but this thought made Hu Zhou almost want to roar out in ecstasy.

He was no longer afraid, and against the whirlwind of blindness, he dug the corpse pit with his hands, and shouted as he dug: "Brother, you bear with it, I will save you." ”

Hu Zhou's hands were bleeding when he dug directly, but he was afraid that he would suffocate the people inside if he slowed down, so he endured the pain of ten fingers and kept digging with his hands.

Gradually, a body dressed in our military uniform was revealed, legs, body, hands, shoulders, and finally, only a thin layer of dirt was left on the face.

The people inside probably consumed too much physical strength, and their hands and feet kept moving, but their heads couldn't move.

Hu Zhou immediately reached out to shave it off his face, and said eagerly: "Brother, hurry, breathe!" ”

As soon as I took a handful, there was a sharp pain in my hand.

Hu Zhou pulled out his hand and screamed, and sat on the ground. I saw that there was bright red blood in my hand, and my index finger was broken from the middle, and I could vaguely see the bones of the white flower in the middle.

Hu Zhou was dizzy in pain, not understanding how this happened, and when he opened his eyes, a bloody face was pressing against his face, and the whites of his yellow eyes were staring at him.

That face was his best comrade-in-arms, a familiar face for him, but it was terrifying at the moment.

Old Stone ......

Hu Zhou's heartbeat missed a beat in an instant, and the whole world spun around.

The man who had fallen to the ground had sat up in some time, his legs stretched straight as if they were stiff, his face stained with bright red blood, and a bright bayonet glowing in the moonlight at the back of his head.

A strange smile was gradually blooming on that white and stiff face, which grew bigger and bigger, and the corners of the mouth pierced by the saber reached the root of the ear......

That's not a human expression anymore.

A familiar voice sounded in Hu Zhou's ears, the voice was full of resentment, unwillingness, and desperate roar: "Why...... Why did I die...... Quack, you live, you live alone, come to accompany me, come to accompany me......" Hu Zhou only had that weird smiling face left in front of him, and the sound of bones rubbing in his ears became louder and louder.

Hu Zhou felt that he was getting closer and closer to him, the brain of his head slowly dripped onto his cheeks, Hu Zhou could barely breathe, and the tip of his nose was a strange smell, the smell of human brain fluid.

He wanted to run, but his feet trembled unobediently, and he almost fainted with great fear.

Cold fingers pinched Hu Zhou's neck, and there was a sharp pain in his throat, Hu Zhou's hands and feet kept thrashing, but the strength of his body became weaker and weaker, and his lungs were filled with pain due to lack of air.

In the end, Hu Zhou stopped struggling, he looked at the familiar comrades-in-arms in front of him, looked at his blood-covered face, and then slowly showed a smile, and the tears in Hu Zhou's eyes kept slipping.

He slowly stretched out his hand, patted the other party's shoulder, and said with a miserable laugh in a broken voice: "I, I'm not leaving, cough...... I'll come, I'll accompany you, old Shi...... Everybody...... Did you know...... Ahem, the Japanese voted ...... Surrendered...... Our ...... Our new, new China...... No, it's not far away. ”

Hu Zhou endured the sharp pain in his throat and said intermittently, his eyes were already blurred due to lack of oxygen, and in a trance, a familiar voice sounded in his ears: "The Japanese have surrendered...... Really, they surrendered ......"

Hu Zhou knew who was talking, he wanted to nod, he wanted to share the good news with his deceased comrades, but unfortunately, he couldn't make a sound at all at the moment.

In the end, Hu Zhou's consciousness was dark, and he thought that he was also dead.

In the midst of his scattered consciousness, Hu Zhou thought that his life was too short and too long.

I am only 24 years old this year, but I have been fighting the War of Resistance Against Japan for eight years, and in the past eight years, countless people have gone forward and succeeded, and batch after batch of people have fallen on this road. Among these people, there are comrades-in-arms who they don't know, but who have the same dream, and brothers who live and die side by side day and night.

In his short life, he has experienced too many lives and deaths.

It is enough to die in the last battle and die on the road to New China.

Take me away, brothers, I'm willing to join you.

Hu Zhou finally lost consciousness completely.

When he woke up the next day, Hu Zhou was in the camp, and he had been rearranged into the fourth company. The commander of the fourth company punished him for running with a black face, and it is said that he fell drunk on the battlefield and scribbled everywhere on the burial ground.

After running, Hu Zhou braved the scorching sun and arrived at the battlefield again, he looked at his intact fingers, why was he safe and sound? Was it a dream last night?

Why, why are you still alive?

When Hu Zhou arrived at the burial place, he staggered and searched for the corpse pit last night, and finally, his gaze rested on a large scarlet pit.

On the damp red soil, a row of words was written with his fingers: Alive, see the new China for us.

Hu Zhou burst into tears, and the man's tears poured out like a spring.

He knew the word.

He remembered the man's face last night, the man's unwilling, resentful roar.

Hu Zhou knelt down with a bang, stretched out his hand and slowly stroked the scarlet soil, and after a while, he raised his head violently and shouted: "I will live, brothers, don't worry!" ”

At this moment, he knew that he was no longer alone.

Even though the deceased are gone, their dreams and enthusiasm have never left.

Later, Hu Zhou successively participated in the Korean Campaign and the Huaijiang Campaign, and at countless life and death moments, he silently recited the oath he made in front of the corpse pit, in order to witness the new China of the brothers, live!

When the old man Hu Zhou told me this story, it was Qingming.

He was wearing a navy blue tunic and his back was still strong even though he was nearly eighty years old.

In his hand he held a bouquet of golden chrysanthemums, not bought in a flower shop, but picked in the morning while climbing the mountain.

The bouquet of wild chrysanthemums was still dewy, swaying in the morning breeze.

The old man looked at the monument in front of him, looked at the reliefs of the war on it, and after a long time, he put the chrysanthemum in his hand in front of the monument and said slowly: "Old Shi, I came to see you again." Don't think I'm bothering you every day, I'm going to leave in two days, my son is going to move to the capital, I'm going to take care of the children for them, and I will have less time to see you in the future. However, except for the year of the ** military parade, I haven't been to Beijing for a long time, and now our China is developing very well, and several national leaders are very clean, but the Japanese are still unwilling to admit the fact of invasion of China, alas, people are a little verbose when they are old, you can rest assured, my body is still very tough, and if you want to practice guns with me, you have to wait a few more years......"

I stood aside and watched as the old man chatted to the monument as if no one was around.

His silver hair trembled in the morning breeze, and a smile spread across his old face.

There are some people, even if they die, they will be remembered forever.

No one knows when and where the four regiments and eight companies died sixty years ago, no one knows that there is a person nicknamed Lao Shi in it, and no one knows that sixty years ago, in that barren era full of war, their friendship transcended life and death, transcended time, even if many years have passed, they can still laugh and talk about the past and the present with the deceased.

No one remembers, but Hu Zhou does.

A few days later, the old man Hu Zhou really went to Beijing, and I never saw him again.

In front of the cold monument, there is an old man who gives flowers every day, and his story is missing, so I also go less. 151 Kanshu.com