The Eighteen Arhat and Seven Weapons of Dog Head Troop (1)

  Love stories are always heartbreaking, so let's change the subject and relax a bit. Let's talk about our basic training days, but it's a bit dull, I'll try to make it more interesting, girls can skip this part if they want. I thought for half a day and still didn't know how to describe those complex and dry basic training subjects, although at the time we found some fun in the midst of dryness, but writing about it would be too dry - it's better for you to find a science book to read instead! Writing about it would just be a science article, without much meaning; besides, I don't remember those things clearly myself now. Moreover, writing about it would only have drawbacks and no benefits, why should I teach you how to open doors skillfully, how to capture (kidnap) people, how to investigate beforehand, how to ambush, how to take action, and how to end the scene? And also, how to avoid being tracked by military (police) dogs in the mountains? - Knowledge is a double-edged sword, good people learn it well, bad people learn it badly, so I gave up. But still need to introduce some basic things simply, otherwise friends who don't understand may have trouble later on, so I'll talk about the eighteen martial arts and seven weapons of the Dog Head Troop. I won't follow a particular order, just pick what I feel deeply about and say it.

  Our new training team's rookie joined the big team, but it wasn't over yet. We still had to go through collective beating before being separated for individual beating. This process was different, for example, the training time and methods for snipers and assaulters were completely different, although we would run 10,000 meters together in the morning, do basic physical training together, and have some common subjects such as hand signals, formation, combat, climbing, etc. However, the content of professional learning was vastly different. In my impression, the only literary phrase that Dog Head High School Team ever said was: "So-called special warfare small teams are actually a combination of expert-level soldiers from different professions, and their overall combat effectiveness is far greater than the combined combat power of ordinary infantry and reconnaissance troops." - At that time, I was all confused, let alone our rural-born officers. By the way, those three lieutenants didn't stay with us anymore, they had their own professional learning courses, and later on, they weren't even in the same battalion, so we rarely saw them. It wasn't until an exercise when I met one of them who had become a team leader, and we chatted quite warmly, but there was always something between us. The officer I interacted with the most was Dog Head High School Team, every time our new recruits were trained by him, otherwise he wouldn't be at ease. Later on, I was surprisingly selected into his direct special task force, I reckon he thought it would be more convenient to beat me up. In the last two and a half years in the military camp, I was always with this guy suffering from his temper. How do you think I ended up like this?!

  We didn't quite understand, and we were about to be hammered into "expert-level warriors" - the training in the troops is just like force-feeding ducks, where's so much logic to talk about? - I was still confused, and then I became the first assault hand, my god! What's the concept of the first assault hand? It's the vanguard who confirms the target location and goes up to be cannon fodder first, every time they're the first to rush in! - If we were fighting, the brothers would just look at the first assault hand and that's it, no need to talk, just see if he's hanging or not to know if it's safe inside - One of the most classic scenes from the Gulf War is a night vision shot of a special operations team (I think it was SEALs) surrounding a house, then one guy gets burned out by an incendiary grenade and rolls on the ground - that's what the first assault hand is.

  I was selected, along with Mada and Shengzi, to join his elite squad for training. Everyone here is a seasoned veteran, extremely unfriendly towards us - they have the qualifications for it, we're just clueless! Mada was assigned as a fire support hand, carrying a 40-caliber gun every day, running all over the mountains - who let him have such strong legs?! Apart from the 40-caliber and a few prescribed rockets, he also brought his own rifle and ammo, not to mention a handgun, dagger, canteen, backpack, etc. You can imagine how much weight he's carrying! Comrade Mada is tireless, running all over the mountains like a wild rabbit - peasant soldiers are really down-to-earth! I've never seen him complain once! The only thing is that when we took baths, I saw the red marks on his dark shoulders slowly turning into scars, then scabs, and eventually two strange-looking calluses appeared.

  He was in so much pain when he just got hurt! I applied medicine to him at night, and then tears kept dripping. But he didn't even have time to feel moved, often falling asleep as soon as the medicine was applied. It's really exhausting!

  I was supposed to be a sniper - I actually wanted to do this, how cool is that! Holding an 88 sniper rifle, feeling like a whole body of straw people, just like the real thing. But the Dog Head High School team didn't let me, and the reason was that I was too active. This is true, I really can't stay still, sniping requires patience and endurance, and outstanding shooting skills, which Shengzi has. That kid can lie there for a whole day, I couldn't do it - later he told me that during several training sessions, he actually fell asleep, and it was especially sweet. He thought to himself that being a sniper wasn't bad, the training didn't require running around like a madman, or like me, running all over the place, sniping gave him his first memory of sleeping in the sun. Those soldiers shouting "I see you! Come out!" couldn't find him no matter how hard they looked, because he was asleep, so even when they approached, he didn't feel anything and wasn't flustered - of course, if he encountered a wolf dog, he would be in trouble.

  But giving birth to a child also encountered some difficult things, that is, sheep. The sniper's ambush training finally didn't take place in the training field, but on a mountain about 1000-2000 meters away, and then a group of people went to find them. This time, there was no warning circle around the training field, and there was a problem with the sheep - the local people found it difficult to grow grain, and the mountains were used for grazing goats, and these goats were really amazing! I only knew the name of the goat in the city, but didn't know how incredible they were. One time, when I walked out of the gate of a large courtyard, I looked up and saw a group of white dots on the opposite cliff about 70 degrees - I don't know if you believe it or not, half of the cliff was covered with goats jumping around! Wow! I finally knew what a goat was! They were really mountain-climbing sheep!

  The old man drove a flock of white sheep over the mountain, and the hidden child was completely exposed. The child's body was covered in leftover grass from the sheep, making him look like a sparrow that hadn't molted yet, so ugly it was unbearable. After the sheep passed by, the child was revealed, and he let out a sly laugh, showing off his white teeth. We couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all - what's wrong with this kid? Even the Dog Head High School team couldn't get angry, they just laughed along, except for one guy who pretended not to be amused, looking awkward with a half-smile on his face. This was typical of him. Later, after I retired from the army and watched Stephen Chow's movies, I thought to myself, if he doesn't ask me to write a script, I'll definitely use this material, it would fit perfectly with his style. I guarantee everyone in the theater will erupt into laughter.

  When it comes to the training of snipers, I have to mention one person, our sniper instructor. He's a real tough guy who has actually killed people, from Guangxi Province, but I forgot his name. He was a lieutenant colonel and also the commander of the battalion, and he was a first-class hero in the reconnaissance battalion. I'm not familiar with this person because we only studied together for a short period of time, and Shizi practiced alone with him for a long time.

  What can I say about my first impression of a real sniper? He seemed to be from an ethnic minority, and when I saw him for the first time, I didn't think he was particularly eye-catching. He was thin and wearing a camouflage short-sleeved shirt with "Chinese Army Special Forces" and a dog head logo on it, along with deep blue army pants and a towel draped over his shoulder. He carried a basin and a board and sauntered into the bathhouse. Could you tell that he was a sniper who had killed people? His eyes were a yellowish color, not a straightforward black, and his hair was sparse and yellowish-brown, but not like our usual crew cut, it was parted in the middle - later I found out that it was specially approved by the battalion commander, only he could have a parting.

  Our brother was taking a bath in the bathroom, he came in and no one noticed. Everyone thought he was a technical officer from some repair department or even a military worker, maintaining guns or special equipment. When he took off his clothes and came in, we were all stunned.

  A body of sinewy muscle, not like Rambo's, but rather the kind found in Asians, similar to Bruce Lee's lean muscle.

  Then there were those scattered scars, gunshot wounds, burns, scalds and whatnot, I can't remember them all.

  He didn't speak, even when he was taking a bath, and he wouldn't look at us soldiers. Later we found out that he didn't talk to anyone in particular. We were all stunned, knowing that these scars told stories filled with blood and tears. But his eyes? What could you see from them?

  Empty and hollow, without killing intent, nor harmonious intent.

  It's just like that, neither cold nor hot.

  Didn't even glance at us, washed quickly, finished washing and left, didn't say a word. When putting on clothes, the person dragged their feet and walked away slowly. We were all stunned in the bathroom, unsure what kind of role this was.

  Later, he studied sniper tactics, and although he didn't speak much, when he did, it was in Guangxi dialect. It was a bit hard to understand, but we brothers didn't dare ask him many questions. His eyes weren't fierce, just empty, like there was nothing there. He would demonstrate the actions, then let you figure it out for yourself. In class, he would explain how to set up a sniper's position and choose routes, but only once. The brothers didn't dare ask questions - even if they didn't understand, it didn't matter. During practice, he would explain again, without any urgency or impatience, repeating himself several times if necessary. He just spoke in that calm, unhurried tone.

  His habit was that when we brothers were practicing, he would sit on the mountain top with his eyes closed and gaze into the distance. Later, we only knew that he was looking at people's heads in different directions, measuring distances, calculating wind speeds, and calculating how to shoot over there and hit the head with one shot without needing a second shot. We all broke out in cold sweats.

  He only laughed once, because he was watching an American movie called "Double Tap", which is about snipers. We didn't know what he was laughing at, but he really did laugh for a moment, without any commentary - our unit had collected many of these kinds of movies from the Americans and showed them to us - we all thought they were more interesting than the domestic films we usually watched. Later on, when we learned some new things, we really started using these as entertainment. And then there was another time he cursed, after reading a domestically translated Israeli sniper training manual. It said that during training, Israeli snipers would shoot at scarecrows with ketchup bottles on their heads, and when they hit it, the red color would appear, in order to cultivate the psychology of not fearing blood. He just laughed once, with a playful laugh: "Bullshit." A light, casual sentence.

  He even let us practice shooting at targets, which were small steel plates of various sizes and distances. Later on, the only time he said something extra to me was: "A person's head hundreds of meters away, through the scope it's just a small dot, one shot and they're down, do you see the blood?" His expression seemed like he was savoring something, I felt a chill in my brain, with a feeling of being watched through the scope - this Sunzi really did this during his hidden training, using the scope to play tricks on us brothers. Later on, he also developed the habit of narrowing his eyes and staring at people's heads from anywhere, originally not good at talking, even less so afterwards - even his gaze became more and more like that instructor's. I knew then what was meant by occupational habits, just like how I would think about kicking in a door and rushing in for no reason. A sniper's occupational habit is to stare at people's heads for fun when they have nothing better to do.

  That sniper instructor is still the same, every day after drill he wears camouflage short-sleeved shirt and blue shorts to take a bath, seeing us has nothing to say, we salute him just nodding, not returning the salute. He comes and goes in the big yard like this, whoever sees him doesn't care, even the battalion commander says a few more words, but also doesn't salute. The battalion commander is not angry either, nor does he say much to him.

  He just walked away.

  He never wore the specially-made camouflage uniform with the dog head logo that the team was proud of, nor did he wear an armband. He just wore a standard military uniform. The most you'd ever see him do is walk around with a basin and wearing short sleeves and shorts to take a bath every day. Later we found out that he was a famous "Number One Killer of Certain Mountain" named by the Central Military Commission, the only combat hero with a name that sounded like something from a martial arts novel. I really can't remember his name, but his record was 151 bullets, 150 and a half enemies - the half being someone he shot in the head who didn't die, but ended up becoming a vegetable.

  He has never been married.

  Alone, wandering around the big yard, no smile, no anger, neither slow nor fast. Right, his habit is to stare at people's heads when he has nothing to do. —— Do you know what war does to human nature? I knew it when I was 18 years old.