Every corpse of a Japanese invader proves to our entire army and the whole country that they are nothing special. They will die in the face of the bravery of our army.
However, victory is achieved through sacrifice.
I wanted to interview these heroes, and I expressed my wish to the two generals.
The general was silent for a moment and took me to a courtyard.
Compatriots, can you imagine? When Mingyue opened the door and walked into the large courtyard, under the moonlight, looking around, the ground was white.
The bright moon accompanied the two generals as they walked among the white snow. The courtyard was silent, and even the rumble of cannons that still exploded from time to time outside the city became so distant.
Opening a white cloth, underneath is a face that is so young that you can hardly imagine it. The blood on his face has been wiped away by water, but his eyes are still wide open. You can completely imagine how he roared before he died.
He tried his best to shoot the bullets in his gun's chamber at the enemy in the distance.
I don't know how many heavy machine gun bullets hit his chest. His already thin chest was deflated. His beloved military uniform was stuck to his flesh and blood. The nurse who helped him clean up had to choose to wrap his chest with white cloth.
, but it still became a bloody cloth.
I looked up at the moonlight, trying to pour back my tears.
Because I don’t want to be sad. In March in Songhu, I have seen too many sacrifices. I hope that my heart may have become hard enough. I hope that I can face the lost youth more calmly, but I still can’t hold it back.
.
I couldn't hold back my tears, nor could I hold back my heartache. It was so painful that I didn't even have the courage to help him close his unclosed eyelids.
Because, I'm afraid that I can't help but look up their names and write them in my diary. I want to remember each of them, but I know that their relatives don't want to see their names in the newspaper.
That was glory, but for them, it was more despair.
If possible, I hope they can all live and not be heroes.
But the Japs are coming.
Every ordinary person has something he wants to protect.
The two generals stood in the white ground, their eyes shining brightly, but their bodies remained tall and tall.
There is no shortage of white cloth in Songjiang City, and that is the last thing Songjiang people can do for the heroes. Under every white cloth, there is a life that was once extremely vivid.
And I know that this is not the end yet, because the real battle in Songjiang City has just begun, and the heavy Japanese troops outside the city are slowly approaching.
Perhaps, when you read Mingyue's words, Songjiang City was shrouded in Japanese artillery fire and trembling.
But compatriots, with such generals and soldiers, please believe that if the Japanese army wants to pass through Songjiang, they must step over the corpses of more than 30,000 Songjiang defenders, including my Tantai Mingyue.
In the end, after my pleading, although the general did not allow me to go to the front line for interviews, he finally gave me an opportunity to conduct a telephone interview.
The top commander on the front line, a certain army lieutenant colonel, answered my call. The early morning night raid mentioned earlier was completed under his personal leadership, but please forgive me for not revealing his name.
However, it was not because he refused my phone interview, but it was a personal reason!
He found a soldier to be interviewed by me.
Although it was through the phone, listening to the thick Sichuan sound that I needed to listen carefully to distinguish clearly, I could still imagine that he was an energetic soldier.
However, what he said was somewhat contradictory to my feelings.
He didn't tell me how he fought bravely on the battlefield, but it was all memories.
Just like an old man, talking about the most unforgettable people and things in his life, as if that is the only way to find himself.
He fell into the chatter of memories, filled with memories of his comrades.
He talked about how they fought bravely and how they sacrificed. He talked about how the veteran who had led him hoped to live to see his daughter get married and bought her a pure copper ring. He talked about how his comrades hoped to find a wife when they returned home.
, for this reason, he deliberately hid the rewards issued by his superiors in a secret location that only his closest fellow villagers could know. But then both of them died, and no one knew where his Dayang was hidden.
What simple and innocent expectations were all gone because of the arrival of the Japanese.
Mingyue's hands trembled when she recorded the stories of these ordinary soldiers, but she still firmly chose to write down these stories and tell them to you.
until.......
Until the time allotted by the general is almost running out, the interview is about to end.
Mingyue asked him curiously, asking him about Pao Ze so much, what about himself? Is there anything he wants to say to his family? If he agrees, I can leave his name here and share his words.
Inform your family through newspapers.
I think no one would give up this extremely rare opportunity.
He was silent for more than ten seconds and answered me: I still have younger siblings at home, and my parents will be taken care of. I just hope that if I die in the battle, everyone will forget about me.
My pen suddenly stopped.
The tears I had been holding back for a long time finally burst out of my eyes.
I think I should understand what he means.
Precisely because he knew the pain of losing his comrades in arms and constantly missing them, he hoped that when he died, please forget him.
Let his comrade-in-arms Pao Ze forget him, let his blood relatives forget him, let the motherland forget him, let my Chinese people forget him.
But, can it be forgotten?
No, I believe, I will not forget, his comrades will not forget, and China will not forget. In Songjiang, south of the Yangtze River in China, there is such a group of Chinese soldiers who are still on their own position in the face of the surging momentum of 100,000 Japanese troops.
, roaring to the invaders: Come and fight!"
The young man was reading Tantai Mingyue's battlefield diary in the newspaper, with tears already streaming down his face, and the crowd around him was also mourning.
The words that completely broke Tantai Mingyue’s guard: Please forget me! also broke the tear ducts of the Chinese people.
There are more than just people who can't wait to pick up the newspaper and read it on the street. Tantai Mingyue's true but touching words completely ignited the fire in the hearts of the people.
"Drive the Japanese devils out of Songhu!"
"Long live the Songjiang defenders!"
...
Slogans rang out one after another on the street.
In southern Hunan, Jinling, and Jiangxia, countless young students chose to take to the streets, holding slogans and shouting anti-war slogans to express their support for the frontline battlefield in Songhu.
Recruitment points in major cities have once again become crowded places.
In the noisy street, after listening to the young man reading the newspaper, the old woman stood there for a moment, silently turned and left.
The young man who had been quietly paying attention to her caught up and took a few steps forward: "娭毯! Where are you going?"
The old woman stopped and looked back at the young man. There were tears in her eyes, but her face no longer had the trance and nervous look before: "You're a good friend! Thank you for reading the newspaper to me. The old woman figured it out.
Those who went to fight the Japanese were not good people! But they are all dead, how sad their mother must be!
I am not looking for my son anymore. I am going home and waiting for him at home. If one day he is like those bastards and never comes back, then I will also be waiting at home for my son.
Damn, I will know when he will come back to see me."
After saying that, the old woman slowly dragged her heavy steps away.
The thin figure just disappeared at the corner of the street.
It was only at this moment that the young man heard the sigh in his ears: "Where is the home of Zhang Yi, the commander of the Hunan Army who died in the battle? Can we pay our respects?"
"Go together, go together, how can such heroes not express our feelings!"
.......
Only then did the young man understand that the truth he was trying to hide had already been known to the old woman.
No wonder she wanted to say thank you. It turned out that it was not to thank him for reading the newspaper, but to thank him for not wanting to hurt a mother's heart.
However, my mother's heart was still hurt after all.
She had to wait for a long time, and finally could not come back to her, so she knelt in front of her and called out: Mother is well! My son is unfilial.
Since ancient times, it is difficult to have both loyalty and filial piety! For a son, this is a difficult but unavoidable multiple-choice question.
But for my mother, all my expectations came to nothing, which couldn't be crueler.
However, she did not cry, but chose to go home and wait for her son's soul to return.
Because his son died for the country, and this is the soul of a hero!
Heroic soul, not far away!
At this point, the young man squatted on the ground and cried bitterly.
After a long while, he stood up resolutely, stuffed the paint bucket beside him to the student team passing by, turned around and walked out of the city gate with the newspaper in his arms.
There is the recruitment office of the Hunan Army.
From then on, I committed myself to the country!
........
ps: If I die, please forget me! I recently read what a female soldier guarding the border said. A 40-year-old middle-aged man was instantly defeated. I wrote it in a book to pay tribute to the Chinese soldiers!
I recommend a good fantasy book with very good results. "Super Family Leader System", book friends who like fantasy can check it out.
