The power of words

Forgive, forgive me for hearing your name over and over again, but never really getting close to you and getting to know you, even for a while - Duku Highway, which is open only during the season, is known as the most beautiful highway in China. The highway is fascinating because of its four scenery, steepness, majesty, and danger. I have admired many of its beautiful scenes in the landscape photos taken by photographers.

The scenery that once passed by as if in a hurry has long faded into memory.

An appointment caused by the attraction of words, focusing on Tangbula, was decided in May and will be scheduled in June, just waiting for the opening of the Duku Highway, like fine wine that has been sealed because the time has not arrived. And cannot be opened easily.

Good things always bring trouble. In mid-June, the Duku Highway was still impassable, so it had to be postponed, and then postponed, until early July. The number of people on the list is increasing and decreasing, and everyone is working hard to gain precious time for this gathering.

Waiting makes my long heart become worried and uneasy, for fear that I will live up to this beautiful July scene.

The time for our reunion has finally arrived. I am very lucky that the holiday has been brought forward. I can travel lightly and go to this long-lost meeting. I take the Duku Highway, pass by Jorma, and see Tangbula. I think I get very excited just thinking about it.

On July 6, as if we knew we were going to travel, the weather cleared up generously and was unusually good. (You must know that it had been rainy and rainy for the first few days.) After the heavy rain, everywhere along the road, the vegetation was beautiful. Abundant, bright flowers, blue sky and white clouds, flocks of cattle and sheep...

In fact, as soon as you leave home, you can see the summer around Yili without mentioning the place names. It is a beautiful scenery like a painting. All you have to do is relax and enjoy the scenery. At this time, we were driving on the Duku Highway. The road condition was good, and the road was winding and winding, like a ribbon, endlessly winding into the distance.

With plenty of time, we stopped and walked, got off the car from time to time, and stopped by the roadside to linger in the long-lost landscape. The troops joking about Urumqi are on their way, but we are experiencing the most beautiful scenery in our hometown this season. Jorma was looking up at the other end of the mountain. Do you know what high mountains are, steep and majestic? The car was driving along the mountain for a while, then crossing the river, passing through caves and tunnels. The mountain road drove upwards with eighteen bends. The mountain was rugged on the left and looked like a cliff on the right. Finally, it reached the highest point and looked down to see a panoramic view. The mountains are small and majestic, and the continuous green hills are both handsome and majestic. Between the sky and the earth, the cars become small in the middle, and the people are also insignificant and become a small dot.

When we arrived in Jorma, we stopped to rest and had lunch. It was still early, so Teacher Shan suggested going to the memorial hall and the martyrs’ cemetery. He had heard about those road construction soldiers who sacrificed their lives for this. The road lies here forever. I heard that in "Watching the Tianshan Mountains", it is said that a veteran guarded the cemetery for decades, and it turned out to be here.

Walking into the memorial hall, the light was dim, and someone said that the power had been out for a week. Vaguely visible, the large long sand table mold in the middle presents a miniature geographical appearance of the Duku Highway. Glass cabinets placed against the wall display clothing, supplies, utensils, kettles and other daily necessities left behind by the road-building soldiers. Now they look extremely primitive and crude. The photo introduction on the wall seems to take us back to that primitive, desolate, dangerous and harsh environment. Due to the poor equipment and harsh living environment, one soldier died for every kilometer of the Duku Highway built... This In ten years, from 1974 to 1984, more than 13,000 people dedicated their youth on this road. Due to avalanches, mudslides and other harsh conditions, more than 2,000 officers and soldiers were injured and disabled, and 168 soldiers sacrificed their young lives. Today's Tianshan-Duku Highway is steep and beautiful, paved with their flesh and blood. Although the museum was a bit dark, I was deeply shocked as I walked through them one by one and read them.

After the visit, when we were about to leave, an old man wearing an old military uniform walked in and greeted us. Everyone consciously gathered around him again, surrounding the big sand table. It turns out that this is the long-legendary veteran Chen Jungui. His story is spread far and wide in Qiaoerma deep in the Tianshan Mountains, and I am standing next to him at this time. He was so close, ordinary, natural and real. Everyone, including me, was listening quietly. The voice was not hoarse, impassioned, or paused. It came slowly. He seemed not to be talking about his own experience, but Other people's stories, with the unique accent of his hometown, these words must have been familiar to him and integrated into his blood, marrow and soul.

Following his story, the scenes before his eyes were like a movie. Looking back to that year, he, his squad leader and his four comrades supported each other in the heavy snow and trudged forward on the snowstorm-covered mountain road. , crawled when he couldn't walk anymore. After crawling in the snow for three days and three nights, he was hungry and cold, and he couldn't move anymore. The squad leader took out the last remaining steamed bun and gave it to him, ordering him to eat it and eat the raw one. Hope was left to him (because he was a recruit and the youngest at the time)? Before he died, he told him to go out alive, complete the mission, and if there was a chance, visit his elderly parents for him. He ate it with tears. Steamed buns, promised, made promises, all comrades sacrificed and froze to death in the snow. ? Later, he was rescued. Although he was disabled, he survived. He recovered and returned to his hometown of Liaoning. He was resettled, had a stable job and income, and got married and had children.

As time passed, he could not forget his promise to the squad leader. When he, his family and children traveled around to find the squad leader's hometown and visited his parents for the squad leader, what he found was an old tomb. he cried.

In order to repay the squad leader for saving his life, he gave up his comfortable job in his hometown and led his family to worship at the squad leader’s resting place. He decided to stay here to guard the tomb of the squad leader and his comrades for 30 years. for many years. Decades of silent perseverance have led to a difficult life that ordinary people cannot imagine. Just for a friendship and a promise! ? Standing next to him, listening to all this, I was touched and burst into tears. Fortunately, the room was dark and I was wearing sunglasses. After the old man finished speaking, he gave everyone a military salute and said he was sorry for the power outage. words.

As the crowd walked out of the door, the sun was shining brightly outside, and my eyes felt uncomfortable for a moment. ? I felt deeply that this story of perseverance and friendship finally took root and spread to more and more people after decades. I heard that it used to be just a solitary tombstone, but now it has been expanded to include a cemetery gate, a museum, and an inscribed tombstone. Nowadays, a newly built white marble monument stands solemnly on the hillside and has become a landmark building in Jorma.

As I walked up the steps, I saw people standing spontaneously in front of the monument to pay their respects, with wine, mineral water and hand-knitted wild flowers placed on them. After walking past the monument, you will find the Martyrs Cemetery, surrounded by mountains on three sides and with beautiful scenery. Tombs lie on their backs under the flowers and trees. Quietly, here lie the soldiers who sacrificed their lives. I have read them one by one, and there are introductions engraved on the tombstones. Young lives float around 20 years old, the youngest is 16 years old, and the oldest is 31 years old. Life is as fresh as summer flowers. For the opening of this road, I will do my best to be dazzling. Once it has passed, it may have withered before it can bloom in all its splendor, and the flower of life will always be fixed in the green years that belong to them.

How small and insignificant each individual person seems in front of nature, but with a united will, with faith, strength and willpower, they can gather together to form a mountain, a sea, a force, and a miracle. In the end, this road of life ran through northern and southern Xinjiang and became a monument in the history of China's construction roads.

After walking past so many tombstones, I still feel a little solemn. When I went down the mountain, I solemnly said goodbye in my heart. Looking back, I saw lush vegetation, brilliant mountain flowers, and flying butterflies. Looking at the back of old man Chen Jungui at the foot of the mountain from a distance, he was slightly hunched, like a simple gem, reflecting the already scarce beauty in this world. light.

How many mountains do you have to climb to reach, and how many rivers do you have to cross before you can stop?. There was a veteran who traveled over the mountains and found this place. He didn't know that he had become a majestic green pine on Mount Jorma, watching over this road of life.

（End?）

My heartfelt thanks to Teacher Han Hanweiyu.

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