Chapter 61 61. Wuchen Qingming Festival · 938 stone tablets and a smile

April 4, 1988, Boshin Ching Ming Festival.This day I got up very early and set off after breakfast at 7 o'clock. The passengers on the same car were Zhao Mei, Yuan Yulan and Shang Zhiyong from Tianjin Federation of Literary and Art Circles.The station wagon goes up the Panlong River, and the narrow river surface is surrounded by early morning light and thick fog.The ceremony to commemorate the martyrs in southern Xinjiang is scheduled to begin at 9:00 am.The three of us assigned the task of interviewing the martyrs, and invited Yue Mei to write an on-the-spot experience, and Zhao Mei agreed.In the field of emotion, the advantages of female writers are self-evident.

Malipo Martyrs Cemetery can be called a stone city.After driving through Mali County, there was no heavy fog, and it was just a different day for ten miles.A few kilometers later, a tall stone wall approached abruptly on the left side of the road. Get off the car and step up the stone steps, and a pair of stone lions and elephants are lined up in front of the archway.The entire cemetery is built according to the slope. Thirty-two stone platforms are lined up halfway up the mountain like terraces. Each platform has about dozens of coffin-shaped tombs still made of stone. There is a stone tablet in front of the tomb. The name of the martyr and the time and place of sacrifice.In the middle of the sloping cemetery, there is a flat stone ground as a mourning square. On the front of the tall monument is the familiar handwriting of Mao Zedong: The people's heroes are immortal.On the back is Zhu De's handwriting: You live in our memory, and we live in your career.There is a marble epitaph on both sides of the monument, one remembering the bloody battle to regain Laoshan in 1984 and several famous battles after that, and one remembering the names of revolutionary martyrs.938 outstanding Chinese sons and daughters from 17 provinces and cities and 19 nationalities are buried in the surrounding of green mountains and green waters.

There is a black monogram across the pedestal of the monument: Wuchen Qingming 35126 troops mourn the martyrs in southern Xinjiang.On the two rows of black cloth-covered tables in front of the epitaph, there are portraits and names of recently killed martyrs, and twenty female soldiers holding bouquets and wearing black gauze stand on both sides.Hundreds of heavily armed front-line soldiers guarded every tombstone and screened every heroic spirit.A field memorial service reflects the character of a soldier.After laying the wreath, twenty armed soldiers took half a step forward with their left legs, pulled out their guns, loaded their magazines, and pointed the twenty submachine guns at a 42-degree angle to the sky while pulling the triggers at the same time: twenty fire dragons connected the earth and the earth in a straight line. In the sky, the soldier's shooting posture was slightly bumpy, the muzzle of the gun flashed on the pupils and the helmet, and the thirty rounds of bullets in the magazine were quickly struck by the firing pin one after another. The clouds send affectionate calls to the sky, and the distant echoes are transmitted between heaven and earth for a long time.The female soldiers presented flowers in front of the portraits, and leaders at all levels toasted with cigarettes and wine.Sleeping comrades, have you smoked it yet? The fragrant and soft aroma of "Ashima" smoke floats towards you.Souls from another world, have you drunk yet?The full-bodied "Chinese red" wine is poured on the flowers one by one, like blood, tears, poetry, and songs.I didn't bring you liquor, the soldiers brought so much liquor, I'm afraid you might drink too much and get drunk.This is not expedition wine, the expedition wine you drink is Moutai, once you drink it, you will never return it.Drink a glass of wine.Sweet, you are still alive, we will visit you again next year.

Goose yellow, light green, and lotus, three colorful clouds float over, beating the pure hearts of three female middle school students.They stopped before each marble flag and asked, "Would you like it?"Paste it on the clean snake-pattern tablet, and the steel will fall off, brand new.They have a lot of new coins, and the new coins were minted after your sacrifice, and you haven't seen them yet. "Do you want it?" They posted again and asked again. "I want it!" They said for you, and stood still.The two-cent coin is pasted on the upper left of the 90-degree straight stele. The stele is like a magnet, and the coin is like an iron sheet, firmly attached to the commuting surface.The attraction of the stele is astonishing, and the girls recite your inscription aloud: "Tomb of Martyr Liu Shengfu. Soldier of the 59th Division of the 35207th Army, from Xixiang County, Shaanxi Province, Han nationality, October 1965 A student with a junior high school education, enlisted in the army in January 1984, and died heroically in the Laoshan area on April 28, 1984 in a self-defense counterattack against Vietnam." Ah, less than 19 years old.They stared at your name for a while, then moved forward again, and continued to ask: "Do you want it?"

Zhao Mei really wrote—— From that clear morning, from the time when the thick white mist just fell, you have said to me like this, you say, let’s talk, even if it is endless. Of course there is neither head nor tail.The beginning is the final end of that young life in the evening of the gunfire and bloody wind.After the end, it is the beginning. It is the parents, relatives and friends who have traveled thousands of miles. Come, year after year, four years, a full four years.Every year there is a clear morning, there is a fog of tears, and the sun after the fog clears.Every year, every year, there is a bloody dusk.

The Qingming Festival at the Malipo Martyrs Cemetery is the most glorious day when the weather is lonely during the whole year.On this day, there are thousands of people who worship and sweep. But who is the one who hurts the most? Who will tear open the wound of the heart that is just healing, and let the wound flow out bright red painful blood? I don't want to see those sacrifices who don't hurt, so I stay away from the noisy ceremony. The martyr's mother, the old mother in Shandong, said she was here.She has to come.She couldn't help but visit her youngest son, who was less than twenty years old four years ago, every Qingming Festival.She is familiar with everything here.She could immediately find her son's tombstone among the nine hundred and thirty-eight tombstones, just as she could immediately recognize her son among the nine hundred and thirty-eight soldiers wearing the same green uniform. flesh.She suddenly let out a heart-piercing cry, and she rushed towards the tombstone.The moment she pounced on the tombstone, I was behind her at that moment, and I dragged her, but my mother had already smashed her mother's head and mother's heart on the stone monument.She was so painless and painless.Mother's blood, heart's blood.I hugged her.Embracing a mother's bleeding head is embracing a mother's bleeding heart.

if i were a mother. I am a mother and I also have my lovely and beautiful little daughter who is five years old. If I were a martyr's mother too, if I too lost my youngest son who had just grown up and had a beard! The mother wept.When the mother cried, her tears washed the blood from the corner of her mouth.bloody.Bloody water is also yesterday's love. Just like that, I held her wounded head tightly.Just like that, I really understood why my mother had to injure myself so ruthlessly in her unstoppable collision.You sleep in the ground forever, can you hear the one or two countless tremors?That's the mother, that's the mother tongue, that's the mother's heart.

Comrade Zhang Xianghua, our brother, you are from Zou County, Shandong, the hometown of the ancient thinker Mencius.Your sacrifice time belongs to the category with the most in the cemetery: on April 28, 1984, you died heroically in the Laoshan area in the self-defense counterattack against Vietnam.The types of posthumous political treatment belong to the least category: posthumously regarded as members of the Communist Youth League.That is to say, you did not submit an application for joining the party during your lifetime. You followed the most general procedure and first handed in a piece of paper to the league organization.You finished junior high school and failed to join the league in middle school. It is obvious that you are either a little mischievous, or you have repeatedly played truant because of mowing grass and feeding cattle, or you are too loyal, and you are not born with eloquence and organizational skills. The category that wants to be a cadre is born to sacrifice one of you and one billion happy people.We weren't the first to stop at your grave just to enrich the imagination.Your sacrifice called us, and your possessions were second to none that morning.Cakes, rice, and dry biscuits (not biscuits) in plastic bags are the kind that Liang Sanxi’s mother, Mrs. Liang, took to eat on the road in the movie, so without imagining, we know that you are from Shandong and your mother has been here.Candy cubes, peeled paper, empty wine bottles, wine stains on the ground and dust, firecracker debris, unburned incense sticks and red candles, bananas, ripe broad beans, pumpkin seeds, and peeled sugarcane segments.You know how to smoke, otherwise, why would I light up eleven cigarettes for you, one of the "Qingcheng" brand and ten of the "Big Chicken" brand.Big chicken?You were born in the Year of the Snake, the year before the "Cultural Revolution".Who presented that bouquet of crabapple flowers?That's all we see and think, and it's impossible to go any further, and we're about to burst into tears.

There was a sudden wail, and a mother, who was obviously heartbroken, was in agony.She shouted hoarsely: "My son, my good boy, my family, I'm sorry..." Everyone before the mourning ceremony focused on her, and five cameras and eleven cameras caught up with her.She beat her chest, stumbled, cried, and shouted.Before we had time to meet her in the future, she pounced on her. The young man she broke free from couldn't hold her back, and neither could Zhao Mei. She just pounced on the grave. You, Zhang Xianghua's tomb, hug your The stele, like a hammer, hit the stele hard with the head.This is your mother, this is your mother who was hugged by Zhao Mei with blood dripping from the forehead and mouth.Your mother's tears flowed down in white, turning into red tears on the skirt of her clothes.Your mother is calling you endlessly. She called you yesterday, but you should not. She is here again today. If you don’t come back, she will go looking for you.The mother and the child were once flesh and blood. She split half of her life to you with blood dripping, and fed you into a complete life with milk and chewed cake paste. How could you have the heart not to answer your mother.When your mother's forehead knocked on your stone door, there was a buzzing sound in her skull. She thought it was the loud croaking sound you made when you were born, and she didn't believe that this sound would lead to death!

After a long, long time, she was tired from crying, cuddled up to your stele, and murmured.We asked what else did she say to you?Well, family, mother told you that mother sold dried potatoes, and mother told you that the house was fine, and the house was built, and mother also told you something bad, the homestead that was originally promised to us was given less They insisted on not giving you a piece, and built one less room, and my mother told you yes or no... We are familiar with your name, Lei Shaohua, a first-class hero, your parents get some comfort from this.Your 63-year-old mother is offering sacrifices with hands like dry firewood, and a multi-layered round enamel lunch box will serve you rice, chicken nuggets, peanut beans, fried pork with green onions, and three glasses of white wine.Your 69-year-old father was burning paper, and he added paper to the fire one by one with his bony hands. When the fire was hot, he even peeled two eggs for your old mother and offered it to you.The old father provided you with three pairs of chopsticks, but one pair is actually enough.The cries of the old mother are lightweight among bereaved mothers, and her red eye sockets tell us that she spreads out the great grief, giving evenly to each night especially the festive ones.Your old father didn't cry, and if it wasn't for the big teardrops that fell into the fire and made a hissing sound, we wouldn't be able to tell he was crying.Occasionally, he scraped away the tears with withered fingers that were stained with paper dust. Some of the tears fell on his hands, and others scraped into the deep folds of his face, where they twisted and settled down.

Are you the father of a martyr? Yes. How many times have you come here? I come here every year, and it’s from Yunnan.Two sons and four daughters.This is the biggest one. It is only this labor, and the others will not be able to do the work.Wounded on the right chest and right arm, he was beaten five times when he sacrificed, protecting the platoon leader Tian, ​​protecting the platoon leader Tian with his own life, recovering the Bali River East Mountain, in 1984, on July 12th, he was awarded first-class merit, and received a pension Jin, I spent both times I came here.at home?Difficulties, the five young ones can't do work, the price of chemical fertilizers has increased, and farming.He defended his country, honorably.There are more than one hundred people at a time, and the transportation company knows people and brings them.The army used to give 60 yuan a year, but this year it will not be given.I didn't look for it, and it didn't matter if I gave it or not. The superiors gave instructions to take good care of the martyrs, and there was nothing I could do if I didn't take care of them.Which unit are you in?We are also confused about the country's regulations. Please excuse me, Chief. Tomb of Martyr Li Huaping. Migrant worker, driver, regiment member attached to Unit 35906, native of Kunming City, Yunnan Province, Han nationality, born in 1962, died gloriously in the Laoshan area on September 23, 1984 in the self-defense counterattack against Vietnam.There are five additional words engraved on the back: posthumous third-class merit. A lunch box of rice.There are three kinds of dishes in a bowl: fried meat with scallions, peanut beans, and tofu.Chopsticks.Five "Qingcheng" cigarettes.Dragon brand cans of beer.Peel two eggs.Two peeled apples. Hua Ping, your mother and sister are pulling weeds from the top of your tomb.From your sister's pretty face and slender figure, we see you.I'm ashamed that your mother also regards us as the chief.We came to collect materials, and your mother reported the problem to us with a glimmer of hope.For the martyrs, we can't be perfunctory.We say, you speak slowly, we remember. Your mother said, it's outrageous, we have only one son, and the younger sister has no job, whichever cares.We want to move out, not let move.The dead are here, and we also proposed to move out when we came back last time, or come once a year, three people spend three people's money.My son barely got into college. He drove a car for four or five years. Before he finally got here, something happened and the body was nowhere to be seen. He told us to come. He came. He couldn’t enter the war zone. Come in November, that’s all. a card.It is not a good thing to not take a photo of the sacrifice, and just leave without caring.My sister is out of work, and his father is in poor health. The army said it was managed by the Civil Affairs Bureau, and the Civil Affairs Bureau said it was managed by the army. Which one is in charge?The only son of the three younger sisters is the one who turned over violently. We asked for it, and we only got third-class merit. Your sister said, it's better to give first-class merit, and third-class merit only after losing a life.It costs three or four hundred for one trip, and if you want to pay for the ticket, you will pay it, and you will not pay it no matter what you pay. Your mother said that the pension is 800, and it doesn’t matter if you give it. The Civil Affairs Bureau said that we only care about the pension.Chinese, people are worthless, sacrifice a human life, only give some pension.The slogan is very good, sacrifice for the happiness of one billion people, who is blessed for him lying here? We said, we have all written it down, and we will go back and report it to the relevant departments.Hua Ping, don't think we are dealing with your mother.no.To be honest, we can't pinpoint exactly which department is in charge of your business.But we can write your mother’s and your sister’s requirements into the reportage, so that all departments can ask themselves, we are the people’s parents, how much can we take care of things related to ourselves, and stop looking for angles to prove that things are different from what we have already done. It doesn't matter, don't let the relatives of the martyrs have the idea that there is no yamen in the People's Republic of China to take care of their affairs, not even an explanation.Hua Ping, do you think it's okay to do this? Liu Zhaoquan's father. My name is Liu Qicheng in Dagou Village, Zhangzhuang Township, Zouxian County, Shandong Province. Look at me. The time of sacrifice in 1984 came, and last year came.Ours is also a mountainous area, where we eat dried melons, sandy and rocky land, the rain is better, and the harvest is better. We eat less and save money, so we have to borrow money. I borrowed two hundred.My son was an extra year when he was a soldier, and he is still in school. His family is poor, and there are three younger brothers and one younger sister, and he was an extra year. He was a soldier and ate the national food. It was only a few months, and he... Why!Borrowing money has to be borrowed, as the wish of the elderly.I borrowed 200 yuan. My son was born in November 1966, and I didn't know until half a year after I died. (A young officer stopped, lit a cigarette, respected Liu Zhaoquan's grave, and handed five yuan to his father. The father didn't want it. The officer said, we are fellow villagers. The father burst into tears again, and asked, where are you from? What? The officer strode away. We chased and asked.) where from? (We say that the instructor of the 35129 Army Construction Company is called Zhang Mingdong.) I can't read, can you write it down for me? (We do.) I pay him back, I go back and pay him back. Wang Yi, your sacrifice is different.Peanuts, twists, red fruits.The difference is that the four letters were pressed on the four corners of the rectangular tomb, and they were blown around by the wind. Fortunately, there were stones pressing them down.We didn't see your father, he suppressed the letter and went, didn't stay to wait for an answer, don't worry, we took one, we have the responsibility to do so.Don't worry, the next day, we saw the same letter on the desk of Zhou Shurong, Director of the County Civil Affairs Bureau.The old man obviously wrote it out of anger.Even if there are some extreme words, if someone sacrificed his son, can't he be forgiven? My son died in the battle of Laoshan on April 28, 1984. It has been almost four years. During these years, the Party Central Committee and local governments at all levels, especially the village committees, have shown great concern for us. Our whole family is very grateful The deep affection of the party is endless. This time I came to the Martyrs Forest (Mausoleum) to dig my son's bones back to my hometown. The main problem is that there are two battalions and five companies in the ××× Regiment, especially Cao × and others. There are two main reasons. The first point: see how it (he) treats the family members of the deceased. After my son died, he exchanged his good watch for a bad one and brought it to me. I went to the army and asked for it three times. In the end, it was the instructor of the former Fifth Company who made the decision for me to train (compensate) me for 90 yuan. There was 40 yuan of car and travel expenses that were not reported. Who was responsible and treated us as visiting relatives. What is the conscience? Second point: look at what it (they) did to a farmer's son. ① Comrades: Maybe some comrades will still engrave a blood-stained love letter published in Yunnan Daily around July 25, 1984.The People's Liberation Army Daily also published that as soon as the battle started, he used a bazooka to hit one firepower point with the first shot, opening up a path for the troops to launch an impact. .I went to the army to talk to them (them), and Cao X told me two things.Second, the quota for meritorious deeds is issued by the regiment headquarters, and the quota for meritorious deeds, no matter how great your deeds are, can only be rated as third-class meritorious service.Dear comrades, is there really such a truth in the world? ②As far as I know, some of their regiments in the same year, the same month, the same day and the same battlefield (Laoshan) did not even have any combat achievements in the battle, and they were also rated as third-class meritorious service.If these high officials (their) are from my perspective, they will be even more incomprehensible than me.In 1985, I wrote (passed) as many letters as possible, but I couldn’t afford even one.Hugging rocks to the sky is high, and bouldering to hit the ground is thick.Because I am a farmer, I can't do anything about my son. Xia Wenrong, you were posthumously recognized as first-class meritorious service. No one came from your family this year, but you have many, many relatives. All the retired commanders and fighters of the 35303 unit are your relatives. They will never forget you. Three of them represent everyone and Xiaojia Relatives from relatives come to visit you, with hard wreaths, burning elegiac couplets, lighting firecrackers, burning incense, double toasting tobacco and alcohol, and bringing a camera to take pictures. Did the army send you here? Yes, we are 35303. I know, there are elegiac couplets.Come every year? Yes, every year. Just Xia Wenrong? Eight of them come to commemorate Jisao every year, take photos of Jisao, and send them to the martyrs' homes. You are thoughtful, the Civil Affairs Bureau and the army should take care of the affairs of the martyrs, don't hand them over and leave them alone. Yes, a martyr is a man of the troops after all. Please write a copy of the names and units of the eight martyrs. Not to mention troublesome, my words are bad: Xia Wenrong, Yan Shiyue, Cheng Qingsheng, Yang Jinhua, Xue Chengcheng, Zhang Jidong, Xu Hua, Song Qiang.Song Qiang is a cannon company commander. There is one more thing to ask, you should arrange relatives to come with you, and you can only rest assured after seeing it every few years. Yes, Song Qiang's wife is here, and the little girl is also here. Your toll? Don't worry, let's come together, we will arrange food, lodging and transportation properly. Song Qiang's daughter is very beautiful. Standing in front of the tombstone, she is two heads shorter than the tombstone.The white nylon jacket embroidered with yellow pears and red apples, and the peach-colored fitness pants were put on by my mother in the morning, and a white paper flower was hung on the neckline.She stared at the camera with immature eyes that were less than four years old, and asked her uncles to take pictures, and the camera flashed rounds of white sun.Afterwards, holding the flowers, she watched in amazement as her grandmother burned the paper and her mother wept.She couldn't figure out what the father her mother used to say had anything to do with this stele. She had seen other fathers, they were all grown-up men, and her father was the stele.Mother asked her to kowtow to her father, and she kowtowed to the stele.Mom asked her to burn papers for Dad, and she revealed one after another, following the example of grandma and sending them into the fire.She heard her mother repeatedly tell a distant story: when she was still in her mother's womb, her father turned into a stone tablet. Her birthday was a few months later than the stone tablet. Her mother gave her the name Si Kun. Her home is in Guizhou, where Kun is, she doesn't know.Grandma cried too. Grandma cried loudly, while mother cried softly. She stared blankly at grandma and mother, at the people surrounded by three floors inside and three floors outside, and at the camera lens of Wa Lan, which could reflect her own shadow. I don't know what to do.She only knew that when her mother cried, she had to be serious, and that her mother treated her so well, she had to be consistent with her mother. Besides, without swings, swivel chairs, and slides, she couldn't keep up her spirits.Finally, grandma and mother had cried enough, answered the questions of the people around, and finished answering, grandma and mother dragged her down the slope.There are all stone tablets, why only that one stone tablet is her father, she can't figure it out, she is going to go back and ask her mother.Walking through the archway, you will face a pair of stone lions.Lion, lion, she broke away from grandma and mother, ran to the stone lion, climbed up and rode it, and smiled.She didn't care if an uncle pointed a camera at her, she was playing with the lion, and she was giggling.Grandma and mother stopped crying. You can't laugh when adults cry, but you can laugh when adults don't cry. She knows, so she smiled happily. A middle-aged couple walked side by side, their shoes were slow, and they walked silently in mourning.The lesbians wore tweed tops, black pants, and dark-rimmed glasses.The first impression is that we are familiar with her, we have met her, and where we have seen her, we cannot react for a while. She stopped, facing Li Jun's tombstone, called Junjun, her body swayed slightly, took off her glasses and replaced them with a handkerchief. Ah, Mama Li, it's you. We've seen you in the papers. On March 14, 1987, the "Liberation Army Daily" published the newsletter "Mother's Confidence" written by reporter Sun Zhenyu. At the commendation meeting for advanced women in the whole army, Li Zuzhen, the mother of a certain soldier Li Jun on the front line in Yunnan, gave a report that excited many soldiers who were new to the barracks, and veterans who had experienced many battles burst into tears.she says-- I have organized three families successively in 22 years, and now there are 4 surnames in my family of 5 members. Some people say that I am unfortunate, but I feel very happy.When I was young, I knew Guo Hongyin, a disabled soldier.During the six years of marriage, we lived a difficult and happy life.Unfortunately, Lao Guo passed away in 1969. Our son Junjun has grown up to be as handsome as his biological father.He dug out his father's old-fashioned military uniform and put it on, reluctant to take it off.After high school, he said to me, "Mom, I'm going to be in the army!" I supported his actions.Not long after he joined the army, he went to the front line, and he wrote a letter: "The 20th birthday is the most meaningful to me, and I will spend it on the battlefield. Mom, please bless me!" Since then, I Looking forward to the curtain, what I look forward to is the news of the heroic sacrifice of the army.I passed out from crying... When I was most sad, a comrade from the People's Liberation Army was always by my side and comforted me.His name is Yue Shuai, and he lost his parents since he was a child. The party and the people trained him to be a deputy instructor.He said: "Mom, Junjun died, and I am your Junjun." In this way, I had another son named Zhao. After my son died, I kept thinking that I should go to the front line to see the dead Junjun and the "junjun" who were fighting, and show them my mother's heart!My wish came true.I came to the Martyrs Cemetery and saw my son's tombstone.At this time, I thought: I saw my son, and there are still many mothers who have not come. I should represent all the mothers of the martyrs to visit the tombs of each child.When I was about to leave the front line, the car had turned several times, and the soldiers took a shortcut to catch up, crying and not letting me go.The head of the army said with tears: These soldiers worked hard on the battlefield and never frowned; but in front of their mother, tears can merge into a river!Facing the cutest people in the world, I have no sadness, only pride! Li Zuzhen's report is over, but many comrades are still lying on the desk, letting the tide of emotion flow... "Liberation Army Daily" published two photos at the same time, one is Li's mother giving a report, and the other is two female soldiers crying at their desks. Li Zuzhen, a provincial model of patriotism and military support, and a special representative of the Army Hero Model Conference, said to us: On the front line, Junjun wrote me five letters. Looking back on it now, he said that he did work for me, saying, Mom, the front line is not for death, and the task is more important than death.He also said that he might die after all, mother, don't be sad, you have to be like Huang Jiguang and Dong Cunrui's mother, I don't know how to be filial at the age of 20, only killing the enemy is a great tribute to my mother. When he joined the army, his son asked, Mom, I'm leaving, are you crying or not?I said, mom don't cry.He asked, why not cry?I said, Mom is happy, how uncomfortable it is for you to go to the front line.He asked, when I sacrificed one day, Mom, would you cry?I said, mom doesn’t cry; as you, you want to be a deserter, mom cries, mom finally raised you, mom is a sinner of the country, mom cries.The son smiled and said, "I will not be a deserter, Mom, I will say goodbye." Birthday on October 30th, letter before birthday: Mom, my son's birthday is coming, it may be the most meaningful birthday, I will spend it in battle, mom, please bless me. (Mother Li holds the tombstone in her hands, tears streaming down her face.) Junjun is at home, I watch "The Garland Under the Mountain", I really sympathize with the relatives who sweep the grave, I don't think I will have this day, I bless Junjun, I look forward to his letter, but what I look forward to is... Junjun Don't make me sad, I said with tears, I passed out without crying. My son likes to play ball and swim at home. He swam in the Yangtze River in junior high school. In 80 years, he saved two children.Junjun is very tall. He was 1.78 meters when he joined the army and 1.82 meters when he died.I can recite my son’s letters. My son knows that he will sacrifice himself in war. My son is willing to sacrifice his life for the country. What else is mother not willing to do? As long as my son is willing, my mother is willing. Without my son, I don’t need anything. up.Junjun's biological father was a first-class disabled soldier who was in the second field. He was disabled for the revolution and died in 1969.The son inherited his father's will and sacrificed, and his mother supported him, and his father's last wish came true.The son said, Mom, I must not embarrass you.Every time I come here, I say that I must not be sad and listen to my son.But I just thought, thought, I am mother after all. Junjun served as a soldier for two years, I did not send him any money, but I included two pieces of chocolate when I sent the book, Junjun was reluctant to eat it, and brought it to the front line, saying that these two pieces of chocolate symbolized my mother's heart and encouraged me to kill the enemy meritorious service.In Junjun's relics, I saw these two pieces of chocolate again.Mom is worried, she came to visit the grave and brought Junjun another catty of chocolate. (A woman places six biscuits under the Li Jun Martyr's Monument.) Thank you, Junjun, have a biscuit. My son suffered a lot since he was a child. He hadn’t worn leather shoes at the age of 20. The allowance for joining the army was still 56.63 yuan when he died, and I kept it.When Junjun was a child, he loved to watch "The Red Lantern". Every time he knocked on the door when he came home, was Master Li at home? (sob.) If Junjun knows that his mother is crying, he will be unhappy. If I don't cry, I can't make Junjun unhappy. When Junjun was young, he was meticulous.The red scarf was torn, very torn, what a pity, the day I left the team, I said, Mom, I'm leaving the team.I washed the red scarf clean and folded it well, and I still keep it until now.Junjun’s Tuanwei is also preserved, as well as Junjun’s school transcripts when he was a child, Junjun’s toys, Junjun’s father’s military uniform, Junjun’s military uniform, two generations of military uniforms in my family are preserved, this is the only wealth Yes, I keep it, I watch it. Junjun sacrificed, and there was a note in his pocket, a piece of shrapnel-wrapped paper, on which he wrote a song request for Yunnan TV Station, the first song, Mom's Kiss, and the fifteenth moon, Youth March.The comrades sent the three songs to the TV station, made a tape of the three songs, arranged a program for special audiences, and sent the tape to me. The TV station asked the soldiers to sing and record it, and the comrades in the army sang. I participated in the report group of the Ministry of Civil Affairs and went to 24 cities in 12 provinces. I offered flowers everywhere. I left the biggest and best one in one place. When I arrived in Kunming, it became a bunch of flowers. The hearts of the people of the whole country, I I brought it to Junjun, and to the comrades who slept with Junjun.I touched every child's grave, and many mothers couldn't come, so I looked and felt for them.One child is the mother's blood, so many children are also the mother's blood, and the pain of all mothers is the same.