6. After beating the old cannon, I didn't expect the consequences.

  The beating I gave to the old cannon has completely vented out the anger that had been building up inside me for two and a half months, from being treated like a fragile glass slipper that nobody dares to mess with. The old cannon gathering people to beat me was a serious mistake, before this I had never fought, I said I was an introverted little boy who liked writing poetry. But this doesn't mean I'm afraid of fighting, it's just that I didn't have the nerve for it. In fact, people who haven't fought before are actually more prone to being provoked, because once you start throwing punches, you don't know what's going on, and that's an experience I've learned from myself.

  This time the old gun really got on my nerves, and the rabbit was so anxious that it wanted to bite people. I'm just a 17-year-old boy after all. The old gun is hospitalized with mild concussion and some minor injuries. I am in a small single room in the isolation ward, waiting for the team's handling.

  For over 10 days while I was locked in the confinement room, every day there were old comrades from Shanxi province gathering outside, shouting and sharpening their knives, waiting for me to come out. The soldiers from the communication unit didn't dare to stop them, they were all old hands, who would dare to provoke them? I wasn't worried about these things, at that time I already knew the principle of a dog that bites doesn't bark. Moreover, people had already been beaten, at most I would be sent back to my original armed unit, and that's it. Besides, to tell you the truth, fighting was too normal for soldiers in field troops, locked in mountain valleys with excess energy, all young men with leftover strength, where could they use it? Fighting was considered by cadres as the easiest thing to do, a good way to release pent-up energy. I ate well and slept soundly inside, the communication unit's soldiers were not bad to me either, even several platoon leaders would come here to take a stroll when they had nothing to do, to see who I was. I also did push-ups every day, or handstands, or pull myself up on the door frame, anyway it was unbearable to be idle. Habits are hard to cultivate, but once you have them, it's hard to change. Every day if you don't exercise a bit, you can't bear it, feel itching, even muscle cramps... Later I learned some culture and knew it was because of growing up.

  On the 5th or 6th day of living there, the team leader called me over.

  I entered the office and found that, in addition to the three big shots from the regimental headquarters, our new recruit battalion commander was also present, as well as a tall and thin lieutenant colonel who looked like he had just crawled out of a coal mine. I guessed he was a staff officer or an aide from division headquarters, specially sent to announce the decision on how to deal with me. First, they asked me about my reflection, and I said I didn't do anything wrong. The regimental commander then asked, "How can you say that when you beat someone up?" I stiffened my neck and said, "If no one offends me, I won't offend anyone; if he hadn't hit me first, would I have eaten my fill and still had the energy to fight back?" The political commissar laughed and said, "You've learned quickly." The battalion commander from the new recruit battalion was a short, anxious-looking man from Hunan. He kept giving me meaningful glances, but I ignored him. The deputy regimental commander hadn't spoken until then, when he finally announced the decision on how to deal with this incident.

  I just listened and prepared to pack up and go home.

  Three team leaders stared at each other, seemingly discussing who would speak. Finally, the team leader coughed and said, "I'll give you a warning this time." I was taken aback - it's that light? The political commissar then pulled out a black leather briefcase with "Chinese People's Liberation Army Certain Political Academy" written on it. The political commissar had previously been the deputy political commissar and had been promoted to team leader after attending the academy, so he always carried this briefcase around.

  He rummaged through a bunch of letters, and then pulled out another batch. I was stunned, asking what these were. The political commissar said they were all letters from the new recruits, some with names, some without, but all saying the same thing: that Old Cannon Comrade had treated me unfairly in various ways; also, one recruit accused Old Cannon Comrade and those Shanxi squad leaders of colluding together - when they held secret meetings, there was a soldier who would pour water, sweep cigarette ashes, and clean up trash for them, and this soldier happened to be from the same hometown as Old Cannon. This new recruit from Old Cannon's hometown was willing to come forward and testify.

  I was stunned at once.

  The political commissar didn't let me see the letter, but I saw a big pile of envelopes with crooked and twisted characters written on them saying "Received by the Brigade Leader and Political Commissar", all sorts of envelopes, fonts, signatures in ballpoint pens, fountain pens, signing pens, and even pencils.

  My peasant soldier brothers!

  My eyes suddenly became moist, and I held back from shedding tears, but they just kept welling up.

  The new squad leader was also stunned, he didn't know about such a big situation. It's clear that this squad leader wasn't trusted by the new recruits, he was originally the deputy squad leader of the old cannon's squad, although they couldn't get along but he didn't dare to provoke the old cannon easily. It's reasonable for everyone not to trust him.

  Although I was only a soldier without epaulets for three months, there is one thing I understand - skipping levels to report is a taboo in the army. So now when I watch TV dramas and see a young colonel frequently finding a general to react to situations, it makes my skin crawl, it's simply that they don't have any common sense as a soldier.

  But my lovely peasant brothers, so many of the peasant brothers who didn't say a word to me... Even now, I still get teary-eyed when I think back on it.

  The deputy commander said that this matter would end here, and the old cannon's side would come out to do work in their camp, asking him not to retaliate. You can go back now and wait for the final assessment of the new recruit company.

  I turned around to leave, and the captain who had been silent all along spoke up, "Halt."

  I stood at attention: "Commander!"

  Captain said what's your name? ... I thought for half a day and couldn't remember what to call myself in this, so just call me Little Zhuang.

  I said so.

  He looked at me for half a day, waved his hand and said, "Let's go."

  I went out with our company commander, and he was still wiping his sweat. Our unit handles things one by one, my business is done, the regimental headquarters is waiting to receive him, his management is not strict enough. He also doesn't dare say anything to me, knowing I'm a troublemaker.

  But I did want to ask him who that lieutenant was, but in the end I still didn't ask.

  I returned to the new recruit regiment and saw those peasant soldiers. I originally wanted to rush over and hug them, but later found that they were still cold and didn't even look at me. At that time, I understood that the old comrades from Shanxi were all there, but where was the place for the new recruit regiment in this infantry division? Who dared to respond to my greeting?

  I could only silently watch them, without saying a word, stunned for half a day.

  Until now, I don't want others to say that peasant soldiers are not good because of the following reasons, in addition to the gradual recognition later, it's because of this matter. Our simple and honest farmer brothers use their sweat to produce grain and vegetables, feeding the whole country, and with their cheap labor force, they build one interchange bridge after another and high-rise buildings. We live in cities but despise these silently hardworking people, I don't know why.

  And our 800 million peasants also sent their children to the troops, forming a solid foundation for national defense. In the millions of PLA, what percentage of cadres and soldiers are from peasant backgrounds, I haven't counted, but at least it should be over 70%.

  I don't know what reason there is to look down on our peasant soldiers. Their low level of cultural attainment isn't their fault, so why should we mock them?

  And their simplicity and kindness of heart, can we, who feel so small-minded in the city, compare with them?

  Before I knew it, the new recruit battalion assessment arrived. I was still first in military performance and should be within the top 10 overall, but I don't remember clearly.

  When I received the epaulette, military rank and cap badge, I was really excited. The solemnity and sacredness are unimaginable for those who have not been through the new recruit company. With tears in my eyes, I put on my own epaulette, cap badge and military rank on my newly issued army winter uniform, I don't know why I'm so excited, is it because I succeeded? Or something else? Anyway, when facing the military flag to take the oath, every word was the voice in my heart. Still holding back tears without dropping them.

  Then the newly hatched new recruits were allocated to grassroots units, some went to infantry companies, some went to artillery companies, some went to cooking classes, and some went to guard communication companies...... By the way, the Shanxi peasant soldier who was willing to testify for me was assigned to a distant ammunition depot in advance. I think it's because the team leader was afraid that Lao Pao would retaliate after being discharged from the hospital. As for Lao Pao, actually, I didn't have any more dealings with him afterwards, and only saw him a few times when we were still in the same unit - nobody paid attention to each other. This is the fact, but if I write it like this, it would be a waste of a main character, and all those words written before would be useless. However, facts are unchangeable, and I can only write it like this.

  Where did I go? Won't anyone dare want me?

  I was counting in the house, someone outside called me, I replied and rushed out. As soon as I saw that tall and thin black lieutenant, he looked at me expressionlessly:

  "Pack up your things and follow me."

  I was taken aback, wasn't it already in the past? How did it come again?

  The captain looked at me for half a day: "Why haven't you packed up yet? Come with me."

  I looked at him: "Who are you?"

  "He is the company commander of the reconnaissance company."