In early 1968, the two major factions in the southeastern region of Shanxi Jin were fighting more and more.
The war situation was getting tighter and tighter, the whole city was about to be besieged and closed, and the local committee “cowshed” was dispersed. As soon as my father came home. The most urgent first priority is to buy food, not to die as a starving ghost.
Changxing Street grain store suddenly posted a notice to the effect that: the store in the war on the last day of the sale of food, from tomorrow onwards closed for shelter, there are bold people come to buy! When my father learned of this, he immediately got on his bicycle and took my sister, Zhao Zhen, to the grain store to make a purchase. At that time, I was unaware of this important news and was still wandering around outside, living a primitive communist life. Therefore, my father did not find me.
On the morning of this day, father and daughter rushed to the grain store. As a result, the shopkeeper said that the variety was not complete, and only white flour was left. My father begged, “White flour is good, can we buy all the white flour ratio for the next few months? They said, “If you go on eating coarse grains, will your whole family just eat coarse grains? Do not live a life? My father laughed bitterly and said, “The war is going to be a big fight, and there is no traffic, once the food is cut off the whole family starved to death, still can not live life. Just this pocket, try to fill it up! The company’s main goal is to provide the best possible service to its customers. My father thanked my sister and pushed on the bag of white flour and left. The next few months, the whole family only rely on it.
It’s too late, father and daughter just out of the grain store, on the performance of the alley, even a few minutes but, in the return to the family area of the local party committee must go through the road, gunfire, red and joint a battle. Behind my father, the grain store that compartment, the sound of a slamming door on the board. My family became the last family on this street, that is, the entire local party committee to buy pre-purchased food on the last day, despite the single variety.
From this day onwards, this large area of the Party, government and military stationed in southeast Jin, no longer idle, a comprehensive battlefield. Trapped a few families, never to go out again.
At this time, my father was prostrate on the road, using the bag of white noodles as a cover, and was nervously observing the battle ahead, shouting “down” at my sister one after another, and his bicycle fell to the side.
Along the road, both sides were spraying bullets with machine guns without any fear. Three Navy soldiers, crossing the road from the local party committee building, were killed one and wounded two. The Reds killed a second assault team, rushing out from the West Guest House, a fan spread out, and advanced along both sides of the road in an attack to the east.
Gunfire was loud. Everywhere along this straight road of about 500 meters, there were passers-by lying on the ground. Bullets swished to and fro more than a meter above the ground. The walls of both compartments were hit with masonry bursting and cracking. As my father said the other day: you dare not go out to play again, they will fight during the day. This is a big forenoon, in broad daylight, they do not care how much life is still on the street, really started to fight.
This street, stationed in the red important fortress area construction company, the two sides of the building has a barricade fortifications, brick bunkers up to three stories high, four-sided gun eyes. The introduction of this is important for the latter. My father pushed the food to the east, just past here, the battle was fought, is reaching the entrance to the family home of the Executive Office, commonly known as the red room family home. Father and daughter fell on the ground by the roadside. A few dozen steps further east, is the regional auditorium small square. The left hand that is the red command west guest house, continue to the east, is the local party committee office building, the old hotel, the top is my alma mater Friendship Primary School, the local party committee east family compound. This area used to be very good scenery, such as Western oil painting, with giant trees, birds flying, a church bell tower.
The center of the fierce battle was here.
There were so many strange things in the Cultural Revolution. My father usually criticized me for not knowing how to manage my family when I was a teenager, scurrying around, and even not being able to find helpers to buy food on the last day. At this moment, when the battle started, pedestrians were in chaos and fell to the ground in panic. The road was hit by machine guns and the asphalt was piled up. When my father looked up again to observe, he suddenly found that he was surrounded not only by my sister, but also by me! It was amazingly weird to be suddenly lying down next to them at close range when the bullets were raining down.
The situation was like this: At that time, a group of us were playing near the auditorium, and I was taught to sing the Russian love song “Red Berry Blossom” by Liu Siping, Zhang Yuhe and other guys. I said there was no need to teach it, I could hear it. The only reason to teach people to sing is to make themselves look good. We talked about who had fled recently, and we were getting fewer and fewer people, so we couldn’t fight anymore, and while we talked, we watched the armed men of the Westward Red Company enter and leave by car. The older brothers who taught me to sing are mostly old Red Guards in middle school, who love to wear yellow uniforms, and are now losing interest in the Cultural Revolution because of their parents’ problems, and are treating the movement negatively. Liu Siping, the son of an old eight-way man from the 129th Division, was born in Siping City in the northeast; the son of the head of the Qinshui County Committee, Kong Grow; the son of the head of the Education Bureau, Zhang Yuhe, and the son of the cadres of the Executive Office, “Old Qin”, plus an elementary school student of mine. Suddenly, two platoons of red warriors killed in the West Guest House, carrying guns to the East shooting attack. The situation suddenly changed, the five of us were greatly alarmed, and immediately to the Executive Office of the red room family courtyard, just ran to the entrance, the sound of gunfire, I suddenly saw my father led my sister arrived here, along with my father shouted to my sister “down”, I just in response to the sound of lying down beside them both, so coincidentally.
The most horrible thing is: Liu Siping, Zhang Yuhe, hole growth, old Qin and other four brothers, see me and Dad rendezvous, they no longer care about me, crossing the three of us, straight into the red room family courtyard, stay in the first row of the first family door to catch their breath. They thought the courtyard was war-free and relatively safe. I never expected that the red armed is from the construction company that high on the bunker, responding to the battle ahead, the four guys running all the way to the bottom, may be the yellow uniform trouble it, people will be four guys as a joint raiding team. When they stand in a pile, gasping for breath and discussing the mouth, the machine gun on the turret suddenly aimed at them sweeping, poor my brothers – in fact, still children, right, did not know that the bunker shot bullets, in the blink of an eye fell in a pool of blood. Four people were hit by three at the same time, it can be seen that the bullet density of the high degree of accuracy of the launch, if I was in it, will be shot dead.
Brother Liu Siping was facing the turret and the bullet entered through the side of his small stomach and exited through his buttocks. Kong grows dude stands sideways and gets his arm broken, while old Qin is hit in the small arm. Sigh willed old Red Guard suffered inexplicable strafing, blood flowed on the spot a large.
At that moment, I fell down on the road in front of the family home, face east, somehow behind the sound of gunfire. Immediately after that, there was the harsh scream of the brothers in the courtyard after they were shot. I was shocked, about to turn around and look, my father pressed my head on a white cloth bag: “Do not move! On my command, prepare to rush out, this place will soon be bombed.”
I must interject here the tragic situation of these old Red Guards: they fell in a pool of blood, blood flowing, and a little longer, at least Liu Siping buddy will die. The situation was so critical that several wounded men were crying out for help. Most of the families had fled and the courtyard was less popular. At that moment, a fearless mother appeared – a middle-aged woman, who had been hiding from gunfire at home, suddenly, through a brick window, heard the hissing of the children shot in the courtyard, and a mother’s heart fluttered and ventured out to watch. She saw the dying adolescent wounded in a pool of blood, no longer fear, against the sky full of flying gunfire, resolutely to the special construction of the red stronghold to run. She was fearless and wise, she knew there was a red field ambulance team over there. She shouted as she ran: “Don’t shoot! You hit the children! They are all red children! In fact, Liu Siping, they used to be members of the Taihang Middle School “against the bottom”, also counted as a joint-brand miles.
Soon, the special construction of the red ambulance staff, reached the brother Siping their side, emergency care to stop the bleeding, hastily carried away the young wounded, into a combat truck, to the city’s southern red stronghold Huaihai factory speeding away. They were taken to the Huaihai Hospital and were treated as wounded soldiers of the Red Company and were fortunate to save their young lives.
This mother, I have not been able to find out later.
Why is it that the vehicle that transported the wounded was a combat truck? This is what brother Siping told me later. Siping said that after he was lifted onto the truck, he actually came to his senses again and saw that there were many grenades on the truck, machine guns were mounted on the front and back, and the inside of the carriage was welded with a circle of steel plates, almost an armored car, and the bullets could not penetrate. Combatants with guns crouched in the carriage, continuous outward throwing grenades, a let the truck forward. A few guys were considered to be lucky. Arrived at the Huaihai factory hospital, Siping brother saw, where the red wounded can be more, missing arms and legs, there are hundreds of it, the corridor is full of blood ……
This side, my father and I and my sister Zhao Zhen and the fate of the bag of white flour?
The first thing you need to do is to get ready to go out, he was also a soldier in the Chahar military district, only to hear him say urgently, here soon to be shelled, we must rush forward, rush into the local party building, rush to the first floor lobby, it will be safe. And also instructed our siblings, a little while forward, must slip the edge of the run, along the right side of the road that row of small pine trees, no one wait for anyone, do not dare to stop.
I looked up and looked forward over the grain sacks and saw that the eastern side of the top was the barricade of Friendship Primary School, which was guarded by the United Firm. The machine gun fire there controlled the entire street. My alma mater: an elementary school for the children of Taiyang Taiyue cadres, built hand in hand with the Soviets, was now filled with the violent war atmosphere that the Communist International had always promoted. In front of the building of the local committee, in the middle of the road, lay the downed naval soldiers, easily recognizable by their gray uniforms. Not long after, a group of naval fighters rushed out from the old hotel and dragged the wounded back to the hotel yard for rescue. It was later learned that the soldier was not saved.
Suddenly, the gunfire stopped, but my ears kept ringing as the two sides briefly stopped firing at each other. The red armed squad, dressed in black overcoats, raced toward the west guesthouse with several wounded on their feet. Judging that this was a precious opening, the people jumped up from the ground in unison and ran in all directions. My father barked an order: Hurry! We quickly picked up the bicycle and struggled to carry the bag of white flour to the back rack of the car – something that must not be abandoned. My father bent down and pushed the car forward as we sprinted along the right side of the road, heading east to the local party committee building.
We had just reached the front of the building when more violent gunfire burst through the long street once again. I struggled to help my father, pushing the bicycle and the bag of white flour up several flights of steps and rushing hastily into the first floor lobby. The dense gunfire was isolated outside the building. Breathing heavily, the three of us propped the car in a corner of the hall and used our bodies to protect the bag of noodles. My father gasped and asked, “No, no injuries, right?” My sister and I responded that we were not hurt, and my father then admonished, “Just stand here, and never run around.” This was obviously meant for me. But now, where else could I run?
My father looked at his watch and whispered to himself, “It’s time for them to eat lunch. That means it’s time for the battle to end. His words were drowned out by the sound of shells exploding, and a few nearby shells shook up a lot of dust in the building.
“The door of the building was suddenly slammed open and seven or eight men with guns rushed in. Soon, a number of guards stood inside and outside the building door. From the black cotton coats they wore, this was a few red combat commanders. A middle-aged leader, short hair, big face and beard messy, sturdy and black, carrying a large pistol, once inside the building with an urgent tone in the deployment of what. His image left a deep impression on my life. At that time, the people present called him “old Zhao”, I remembered with a jolt, this person came to the regional sports compound, he drove a U.S. military jeep, the wind and fire, a come and the Sports Commission Zhao Yutian old uncle and Qin Haigeng teacher, endlessly pounding those motorcycles, disassembled and installed, installed and disassembled, tirelessly, belong to the motor sports a They belong to a group of motorcyclists and car repair experts. We are a kid, we can not intervene. He is Zhao Zhenyuan of Huaihai Arsenal, a small eight-way during the war. Now, he became the most famous commander in the Red Arms.
Unexpectedly, we just rushed from the bloody alley battle to the building, but drilled into a field command post. Off in the corner of the building’s hall, the siblings leaned close to Dad, motionless, watching Zhao Zhen Yuan and his men mobilize their troops in the center of the hall. Someone looked our way: a pale black “capitalist” in tattered clothes, leading two children, protecting an old bicycle, apparently unimportant, so no one drove us away.
The building door opened and closed, just went out a group of people, apparently to reinforce the front, and hurried in a three-man team of four-zero rocket launchers. They listened to Zhao Zhen Yuan explain the task, quickly took out a few rounds of four-zero rockets, one hand holding the shells, the other hand the bullet tail steel piece small wings clockwise twist, it was inserted into the launch tube. Zhao Zhen Yuan crossed one hand at the waist, the other hand patted the young soldier’s shoulder, and this group turned to strike. One man carried a loaded barrel and two carried four spare rounds.
For some reason, before the group attacked, they were in the building and fired the five rockets with five loud, crisp, clear sounds accompanied by smoke. I still do not know. At that time, we were terrified by the loud noise in the building. My sister Zhao Zhen grinned for a long time, as if she was going to cry at any time, but she was okay, hugging my dad’s leg and never cried out, her mouth just kept grinning, and her body trembled more than.
The bazooka team ran out and the door of the building was slammed open again with a thud, and four or five men rushed into the building carrying a bloody casualty. They breathed heavily, put the unconscious casualty on the terrazzo floor in the center of the hall, and reported the situation to Zhao Zhenyuan, who had a tense face and tightened his brows. At this time, up several ambulance personnel, squatting in front of the casualty, first untie the casualty’s black coat, armed belt, spread on both sides of the body, and then take scissors when the chest cut open his shirt. The casualty was very young looking, but his face was ashen. He had several layers of his shirt, all soaked with blood. I noticed that Dad was also as pale as dirt, and we witnessed all this in silence. The wounded man’s shirt was cut into two large slices, were uncovered to both sides of the body, revealing the body’s smoking hot chest. Zhao Zhen Yuan and others gathered around. My side can not fully see for the time being.
“Tom, the door of the building opened, and hurried into a person, from his walk while pulling out the stethoscope action, this is a field doctor. Others dodged, let him crouch over to check the wound, he turned the wounded man’s eyelids, check the pupils, and then stood up, very clearly said three words “no one”, we are not surprised at his diagnosis, the scene silent, these three words sounded very real.
When people gave up on resuscitation and stood up to disperse, I clearly saw the wounds of the deceased. As the wound was just wiped around the gauze, thus the wound was very clear. The deceased was shot four times in the chest, one in each of the two pectoral muscles, and two below, four gunshot eyes in blood-red dots, arranged in a mouth-shaped on the chest, four wounds accompanied by hot air, bubbles of blood outward, shaped like four small red berry flowers. The sacrificial victim’s hot blood was about to run out.
Zhao Zhen Yuan and his men resumed studying the battle, adding a sad look to their faces, deploying new tactical operations, their feet treading blood.
Someone dragged the bodies from the center of the hall to a side and parked them. Which side? This side of us. The body carriers did not care that there were three of us standing here alive. They dragged the dead man two meters in front of us and covered him with the blood-soaked coat. I could smell the hot breath of fresh blood, some fishy sweet smell. By this time, the floor of the building hall became a blood-stained world, and people were walking around stepping on the blood.
The war doctor with a stethoscope, tall, with a pistol at his waist, walked up to the dead man and stood silently for a moment, as if he were saying: “Good brother, I can’t save you.
The image of this doctor impressed me greatly. He is not young, balding, long, thin face covered with wrinkles, the attitude of the vicissitudes. He draped an overcoat, but still looked thin and upright, his back straight standing opposite us. At that time, I thought nonsense, somehow I felt that he was especially like the major general medical officer in the battlefield of the Communist army. To this day, I don’t understand why I had such a ridiculous association.
Outside, the gunfire continued. Next to the corpses, the building door was kicked open again, only to see two cook squad soldiers, with rifles on their shoulders, pushing a three-wheeled cart into the building. On the cart was a large flat wicker, covered with a cotton blanket. Once the blanket was uncovered, a bucket full of white meat buns, hot steam. This bun obviously from the West recruitment command.
Zhao Zhenyuan waved his hand, a dozen heads and guards, calmly walked over to grab the buns to eat. I noticed that their hands were fishy red, covered with the blood of this dead man from the party, including the other wounded. The fishy red palms were pinching the large white buns, extraordinarily harsh. They just gobbled it up without a care in the world, I may have swallowed saliva, maybe not.
The body was lying in the lobby, lifeless.
The three of us stood fixedly, not daring to move. I felt Zhao Zhen’s body continue to shake, probably from fear, probably from the cold, but mainly from fear. I heard my father’s slight sigh of relief. I was thinking: This battle has been fought all morning, and just half of it has been fought by now, huh? Why else would the commanders be here for a meal?
After a short meal, a part of the commanders hurried out of the building, they want to launch a new round of attack on the strong enemy of the Union.
The sound of gunfire again burst violently.
One by one, new wounded came into the building to rescue and bandage. The seriously wounded rested on the ground, and the lightly wounded rushed out again. At half-past mid-afternoon, Zhao Zhen Yuan directed his men to carry the body out of the building in front of us. Carrying away the fallen man seemed to tell us, who were starving and cold, that the battle was nearing its end. After a while, the sound of gunfire outside the building thinned out.
The two sides attacked each other throughout the day.
Under my father’s leadership, my sister and I moved our long-numbed feet, pushed the car, and escorted the bag of white noodles closely out of the local party committee building, and walked step by step along the snowy wall at the side of the road towards home. At that moment, the twilight is thick.
In the street, there were shell craters and debris everywhere, a puddle of blood here and there, and scattered bullet casings and machine gun cartridges everywhere. Two or three times we carefully skirted grenades that hadn’t exploded – missing their back caps, with the white silk drawstring exposed at the end. Some large tree branches were chipped to the ground by shrapnel. The iron bar gate of the family compound was blown out of shape and several iron bars were actually chipped off by the shells. Passing by the Friendship Primary School playground, I took a special look at the damage to the alma mater side, everywhere was beaten to pieces, and could not even see clearly.
The back door of the military sub-district is distantly opposite the local medical clinic. During the battle, the clinic was used as a machine gun position and a four-zero rocket launcher fortification by the Red Company to attack the family compound and choke the back door of the military division, and was destroyed by mortar shells or the same four-zero rockets by the United Company. I saw that the three cottages of the Gate Clinic were blown to rubble.
Just as the battlefield was about to be engulfed in darkness, we finally returned home. My mom had long been anxious and was about to venture out to find us ……
That night, I heard a loud, earth-shattering bang nearby. In the morning slipped out the door to see, found that it was a military division with heavy explosives, blowing up an ancient gatehouse that we had to go out through. Before the military struggle, teenagers returning home, often under the old gatehouse to shelter from the wind and rain, or in the gatehouse to meet. Now, the gate building seven beams and eight pillars all collapsed, ancient bricks and tiles into a heap of ruins more than ten meters high, completely blocked the red attack on the military sub-district back door channel, but also completely blocked my travel. We were completely trapped in the dead end of the Cultural Revolution war, but also completely cut off all the temptation of the outside world to a teenager.
The bag of white noodles we had risked our lives to get back began to play its irreplaceable role little by little until the spring bloom.
In the fall of 2004, I drove through the Taihang Mountains in the drizzling rain. I must find that hand-held assault rifle, many times in and out of the local party committee building “Xiao Yang”, that is, the red “red” deputy commander Yang Wansheng. I drove while thinking: from that battle to now, bewildering forty years have passed, Yang Wansheng should also be over the years, he can still remember that bloody day?
Yang Wansheng’s experience of bloodshed is representative of the red heads in southeast Jin. He was not a pure student rebel, but a technician in a construction company at that time. After the termination of the military struggle, he was sentenced to nine years in prison by the “victorious” joint company, and both legs almost fell off. After his release from prison and the end of the Cultural Revolution, he rededicated himself to his profession and became the chief engineer of Changzhi City Construction Engineering Supervision Co. I found this construction director on the construction site of a fertilizer plant. Who would have thought that such a respected engineering boss would have spent his youth rushing to kill on the bloody battlefield day and night.
Lao Yang was able to calmly recall the Cultural Revolution and objectively analyze the situation of the struggle between the two factions. He believes that: in terms of the organization of the two factions of the martial arts struggle, the joint name is more solid and tighter. Their armed forces acted under the unified command and deployment of military subdivisions, with a clear division of labor and much better information and preparation for war. After the field army marched into southeast Jin, the main trust is the military subdistrict; Changzhi red, with a large Huaihai arsenal as the core, although the Huaihai factory brothers are very united, red forces are also very strong, the overall formation of a whole division, big guns and small guns, well-equipped, but compared to the military subdistrict, city and county armed forces and local garrison, but after all, not a solid system.
The arsenal is no longer large, but does not involve the entire district, city and county local power. The red war regiments are bound to be scattered. The text attackers went to Beijing to and (and, Taiyuan abbreviated) to reflect the problem, but also less than the military sub-district to the provincial military district, to the Beijing military district to come quickly, and finally, the joint upper crackdown on Liu Geping, Beijing military district directly arrested the red leadership cadres. The central top eager to convene the “nine” to “seize the bad guys” in the form of cleaning up the chaos and extinguish the war. Although Liu Geping supported the red brand and personally went to southeast Jin to back it up, he could not lead the opposing military divisions and armed forces since the great split, and although the navy and air force in Jin were allies, they could not actually take charge of local power.
In the late stages of the military struggle, the December meeting of the Central Committee simply negated the July meeting and no longer supported Liu Geping. Xie Zhenhua led the 69th Army in Shanxi to support the left in all aspects, the military and the land with one hand, the frontal march, strong occupation, the United States actively cooperate, the effect is very different. In contrast, the Red Company is a voluntary combination of nature, a group of dragons without a leader. We all have some “Lei Gang type” of blind action, although the red in Changzhi people accounted for the majority of the armed forces are also very strong, local have combat power, but the global organization is weak, the lack of a complete command system up and down, of course, can not beat the regular army and field army, will eventually fail.
Yang Wansheng soberly recalled: “Changzhi fight to the end, the heavy pressure, one after another stronghold lost, serious casualties, there is really no way back, an emergency meeting to study, someone proposed that the various deputy commanders and red heads, leading the backbone of the retreat to the Huaihai Arsenal plant inside the factory, the defense plant as a barrier to organize resistance, vowing not to surrender, unless the army completely destroyed the factory. Then concentrate the troops and wait for the opportunity to recover the ancient city of Shangdong. I remember clearly that Liu Zhouwa, the head of the long-running movement, covered his face and cried when he heard this plan!”
Fight to March 1968, the field army backed up, the United Firm into the attack, the red firm was defeated. Soon, the overall commander Zhao Zhen Yuan, as well as dozens of heads of local counties, all let the United Firm in power to shoot ……
I mentioned to Lao Yang the battle that took place before and after the local party committee building, and I wondered why this battle was not recorded in the histories of the two factions. I reminded him that the first floor hall, you implement resuscitation of the dead, and the parts that were shot, and eat bloodied buns at noon. Old Yang suddenly remembered this battle, was surprised how I know in such detail?
He said there was indeed this battle: at that time, the red font in the west reception and other places to establish larger strongholds, is to armed defense of the new regional revolutionary committee. To put it mildly, this is to learn from the Shanghai experience, that is, the workers’ pickets armed defense of the new regime. Mao Zedong also appreciated this approach during his inspection in Shanghai. In reality, the Revolutionary Committee was unable to exercise its power at all, and the area instead became a battleground for fierce clashes between the two sides. With heavy weapons such as four-zero rocket launchers, the RU attacked Xizhao in broad daylight, seized favorable terrain such as the Catholic Church compound, the radio station and the Friendship Primary School, and posed a threat to our command at close range, and the two sides formed a counter-attack. The middle ground was so important that we could not occupy it, nor would we allow them to do so. The two armies drew and fought here many times.
The day you refer to would have been early February 1968. Near dawn, they attacked West Move again, so we ate breakfast, mobilized for battle until half forenoon, and gathered to counterattack and went out. The most powerful fight was in front of the gate of the Catholic Church compound. The dead man, who was one of the heads of our special construction, named Zhao Huaizhong, served as the leader of a combat detachment. Zhao Huaizhong was hit by the other side when he rushed to the gate of the Catholic Church and fell in front of the gate in the open space, his comrades covered with intensive fire, I led people to rush up and dragged him down with me. He was carried back to the local party committee building for rescue, he was shot four times in the chest, he was already dead. Zhao Huaizhong died in battle, to our special construction of more than 100 soldiers very shocked, because he was a captain.
There was another person who died in the special construction team, also unforgettable to Lao Yang: this team member named Li Tianfa, had already returned home to Jincheng, he washed his hands of the job. At that time, Lao Yang and they felt less manpower, but also afraid that he returned home alone after being captured by the opposing faction, they sent people to Jincheng chase to the village, called him back, so that he continued to insist on fighting. As a result, he ended up getting shot by the United Firm. So everyone felt sorry for him and always felt guilty in their hearts.
This battle, why do not see both sides record it?
Lao Yang told me: such battles have reached the time of frequent occurrence, both sides of the newspaper leaflets have long stopped, only to know the day and night bloody battle. Afterwards, no one will be able to remember these local battles. Unless it was deemed necessary by both factions to expose a particular crime, it would be mentioned. At that time, it was a very local and ordinary battle, so many big battles still can not remember it, the joint fight Changzhi, fight Jincheng, fight Gaoping, are joint siege operations, a fight is a month. If you do not ask, I have participated in the battle also can not remember. These small battles are fought every day, where to care to record it?
Many of the historical facts of the Cultural Revolution scenes are just passing through people’s memories, how forgetful we are. I mentioned that a group of teenagers were strafed by a specially built artillery building, and Lao Yang said that at that time I was in the line of fire of the attack, so I really didn’t know about this kind of misadventure, that is, I knew and couldn’t remember.
So, it was just a small battle ……
(This article is excerpted from the author’s lengthy report, “The Sacrifice”)
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