Chapter 2: 13. Lonely Wandering in the Jungle (3)

  In the real subtropical mountain jungle, marching 10,000 meters is several times more physically exhausting than the usual 10,000-meter armed cross-country run. Not to mention whether it's rugged or not, because there are no roads at all, and nobody has come for decades or even hundreds of years, what roads can you talk about? The key point is that the air pressure is low, and it's humid by itself, plus it's a valley, so the air circulation is poor. You'll soon feel like it's hard to breathe. Moreover, the musty smell of rotting plants and animals in the air is really unbearable. At first, you don't think it's anything, but after walking for a long time, it feels like your lungs are full of this smell. The leaves are so dense that the wind can only circulate on top of the forest, what about below? You can imagine, I even suspect that there hasn't been any air circulation for hundreds of years.

  So every time I pass through the small clearing in the woods filled with low shrubs, I hurry to stop and take big breaths of fresh air, changing the taste in my lungs. Then I continue on, there's no other way.

  Dehydration is very serious, and you can't walk far before you're drenched in sweat. In this subtropical low-pressure heatwave jungle, your body is always wet, but your lips are always dry to the point of cracking, I kept licking my own lips, but soon felt it was useless because even your tongue itself feels dehydrated.

  At that time, you had to lick the accumulated water or dew on the big leaves of trees. Of course, bacteria were absolutely breeding, but it was really cheap when I was a soldier, and everything was eaten and drunk like an iron stomach. For example, now I only drink pure water because I feel that even boiled tap water is not comfortable; But at that time, as long as there was living water, it didn't matter what the taste was. However, at that time, there was no experience, and later on, I didn't dare to drink this casually.

  The camouflage uniform will always be half dry and half wet after a few hours, the dry part is due to body heat evaporation, and the wet part is due to the environment and your own sweat. You can clearly see the sweat on it turning into white spots one by one, what's that called? Is it sweat alkali or something? I don't remember.

  The air pressure was so low that it made my heart feel uncomfortable, and I felt like a rabbit in a cage, jumping around nervously. After getting used to training and living in such an environment, when I returned to the city, my heart actually felt even more uncomfortable, and it took me a longer time to adapt, especially to the exhaust fumes in the urban air. It took me a long time to get used to it before I could tolerate it.

  Then it's painful, painfully painful, every step is painful. But I didn't dare to stop randomly, the plan I set for myself was two hours of rest for ten minutes, no more than ten minutes, otherwise I really couldn't get up again.

  This experience grew bit by bit, and later I gradually came to understand that running on mountain roads and training on cross-country courses are different. The latter can only be said to be exercising physical fitness, which is not much different from track and field training. The former, however, is a combat requirement, it's not just about running fast.

  The key is to be patient, because every road is very long, and every time there is danger lurking everywhere. You have to be careful and cautious every second, observing carefully, prudently, and again carefully, and again prudently. That impulsive temper will only get you into trouble, it's of no use.

  You need to have the patience to observe every single leaf, because danger often occurs in the moment when you lose your patience, just where you least expect it. Special operations are not as simple as what you see in movies, nor can they be accomplished by people who are not clever enough.

  If we were to film our troops marching through the jungle, you would think that their eyes look very dull, unlike those of the actors in the movies who keep turning around. But I can tell you, their brains never stop thinking for a second, always observing, discovering, analyzing, judging, and excluding, it's an ongoing process that never stops.

  It's all about endurance, still endurance; patience, still patience. Don't say it's bitter, because you don't have the right to feel bitter; don't say it's tiring, because compared to a dead body, being tired is better than not being tired at all. Dead people can't feel bitterness or fatigue.

  You should feel lucky that you're still alive and can feel these things. This is what I learned later on, some of it was taught by officers and veteran soldiers, and some of it I summarized myself.

  What is a special forces soldier? I'll tell you, after I put on that dog tag and chest badge, my own feeling was that of a perpetual motion machine. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Not only were we marching, but at any moment, we had to be prepared to withstand the unknown, hidden dangers lurking everywhere - the empty shell casings fired by our comrades-in-arms, or the various traps set up by those dog-headed high school team leaders (made of soft plastic, they wouldn't hurt you, but would definitely be painful) and pitfalls (real ones, of course, without any sharpened bamboo stakes inside, just a pile of crap left behind by some asshole comrade-in-arms - these guys had a whole system for bullying new recruits). And then there were the training landmines that would emit smoke when stepped on. Later on, I encountered real shell casings and landmines. We'll talk about this later.

  In fact, I soon found that the so-called two-hour rest is also unrealistic, because you really walk very hard, pain is one aspect, but it's not insurmountable after all, you're not fractured, sprained a bit isn't a big deal. I'm talking about my own physical feeling, low air pressure, humid and sultry, can't catch breath, the air density is too high, when you take a breath, more than half of it is that indescribable impurity.

  So you really shouldn't think that an ordinary infantryman can directly become a special forces soldier, and even excel in it. It's basically impossible. What is lung capacity? What are you doing when you run 10,000 meters with heavy equipment every morning and evening? This kind of marching isn't for those who are used to sitting in cars, armored vehicles, and infantry fighting vehicles, and haven't undergone rigorous physical training.

  Is that all? It's just those leeches you often see inside. This is really a terrible thing, because they will greedily suck your blood on your body until they suck you dry. At the time, I didn't have an effective way to deal with them, and later I still didn't have one. It was either cutting off their bodies outside with a knife and waiting for them to slowly die and fall off, or using cigarette butts to scald them. If you can survive in the forest, I'll tell you that half of it is because you're not supposed to die yet, aside from this explanation, there's nothing else. It's just fate. But at our Dog Head Base latitude, these things aren't too many, further south in the tropical jungle they are very rampant. My later experience will be left for later.

  In short, this primitive jungle is not a place for you humans to come.

  But I digress, do you know what was my most crucial feeling at that time?

  Severe dehydration.

  Mainly severe sweating, resulting in dehydration.

  Your body is wet on the outside, but that doesn't mean it's also wet on the inside. The internal organs are as dry as if they were on fire. Although you're sweating all over your body, you have no idea where this sweat comes from. You can clearly feel the water in your body slowly draining away, as if life is slowly leaving you.

  Do you know what kind of feeling it is?

  Fear.

  Fear of death.

  I must replenish a lot of water, otherwise I will definitely not be able to hold on.

  I only learned later how to fetch water and find water in the forest, but at that time it was completely an instinct, with a lucky element.

  Because when I was afraid, I heard the sound of running water.

  Gurgling crystal clear sound.

  Gurgling sound of life flowing.

  I suddenly got excited, and it seemed that my ankle didn't hurt anymore, so I quickly walked in that direction.

  At this time, the sky was already approaching dusk, and I estimated that I had walked about 10 kilometers of mountain roads. I remember walking slowly like an old cow with a anxious heart. On the map, there is a river, but I didn't know it was so close to me. As I said before, the map wasn't drawn by an expert. This not only allowed me to find important geographical reference points, but also more importantly, I could replenish my water supply.

  Supplement of life.

  I pushed aside the vines in front of me. I saw a river.

  Gurgling, not a big river, gurgling, clear river. The water flows over the pebbles in the riverbed and flows far away into the mountains and into nature. I held my own crutch and walked quickly past it, then threw away the crutch and mountain knife, of course, the orchid in my right hand was not thrown away, and suddenly knelt down to thoroughly throw my face and shoulders into the river.

  The cool river water covered my head and shoulders. The feeling was really indescribable, I gulped down the water without gasping for air. Until I had to breathe, I couldn't help but lift my head up with a splash of water. Then my internal organs felt comfortable, thoroughly comfortable, my face and body were all covered in clear water, my lips were wet and it felt great.

  Then I threw my head back and let out a loud "Ah!"

  The sound was swallowed up by the low pressure and sultriness of the subtropical jungle, making it feel stifling.

  That was no longer a human cry, but the most primitive cry that came from the depths of my chest, an animal's cry. Because I had to survive like an animal first! Survive in this damn "jungle survival" subject! And find my own way and walk back, only then can I be called a soldier! A Chinese soldier! A People's Liberation Army Ground Force Scout!

  Only then can you say you're still human.

  Then I heard something responding to me: "Wooo"

  That sound is still very close, it seems to be right next to me! My mind suddenly lit up, and I immediately woke up from the madness, my left hand grabbed the mountain knife that I had thrown aside. Then I saw a reflection of something in the river right next to me.

  It was also stretching its neck and calling, after finishing it continued to drink water, completely ignoring me. It wasn't until then that I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, within 1 meter to my right, a grey body with grey fur, four thin legs, a thin body, and a limp tail, not spirited at all, nor fierce.

  But I know what it is.

  My mind suddenly went blank, with the machete in my left hand and the orchid in my right hand, I was kneeling there, staring at it drinking water without daring to move. After drinking its fill, it lifted its head and licked its nose with its tongue, then prepared to turn back into the forest. Then it saw me.

  A pair of black eyes stared at me motionlessly on a thin and pale long face.

  A pair of black eyes stared at me unblinkingly on a thin and pale long face.

  Four eyes staring like that.

  Nobody moves.

  It's all foggy now.

  Many years ago, in a vast mountain range.

  A Chinese soldier under 18 years old stared at a big grey wolf which was also staring back at him.

  It was as if two old friends who had not seen each other for a long time were reunited, both in shock, their brains stopped working, and they didn't know what to do. That moment was very short, but in my memory, it was as long as ten thousand years.

  It seems like a story, but I'm telling you:

  This is true.