Recently, the Military Daily published a series of investigative news reports on the theme of "party committees and organs at all levels using a correct view of political achievements (正确政绩观) to help resolve difficulties for grassroots officers and soldiers." I read every one of them without exception. The matters discussed in those six reports—helping officers and soldiers find matches, coordinating children's school enrollment, resolving employment for family members, ensuring family visits to the unit—are things grassroots units encounter regularly. After reading this series, my strongest impression is that the policies and institutions for resolving officers' and soldiers' concerns have become increasingly sound. Yet, having worked on the plateau for several years, I have a deep personal sense that very often the problem is not that the policies and institutions are inadequate, but that the final link in the chain tends to "come loose" (掉链子), and the organization's warmth never truly reaches the hearts of grassroots officers and soldiers.
One line in the reports hit the mark: "The policy implementation rate is not simply equivalent to officer and soldier satisfaction." Some organ cadres are accustomed to treating "the document has been issued" as "the matter has been handled," and "policy announcement" as "policy implementation." Whether officers and soldiers have actually benefited from the policy, and whether they still face practical difficulties, is rarely followed up on. Some units, in work such as family member placement, simplistically measure success by placement rates, believing that as long as positions are filled, ledgers are complete, and figures meet the standard, the work is done—without putting themselves in the position of military family members, and without regard for individual strengths, professional fit, or career expectations. When I talk with organ comrades, I often say: serving on the plateau is already extremely arduous. If the organ's service work is also careless and inattentive, we are truly letting down the comrades standing guard here.
Some time ago, I went to a grassroots unit for an extended stay and learned that a squad leader's child was about to start primary school. Under policy, the child could enroll at the garrison location, but the school said enrollment was by lottery assignment. His family member had made several trips and still had no definitive answer, and was extremely anxious. I asked this squad leader why he had not raised the matter with the organization. He felt it was a family affair and did not want to cause trouble for the organization. There was also a soldier whose family member was suddenly hospitalized with a serious illness. The soldier felt too embarrassed to speak up to the organization, fearing it would affect the unit's work. Once we learned of the situation, we immediately coordinated medical resources and arranged for him to take leave to go home and care for his family member.
These two incidents have kept me thinking: we cannot treat officers' and soldiers' unassuming "understanding" and "silent endurance" as grounds for "not seeing" their difficulties. The more officers and soldiers feel "too embarrassed" to speak up, the more leaders and organs must step forward. We cannot wait for officers and soldiers to come to us—we must proactively go out and discover their needs, and extend a helping hand.
Recently, my unit conducted a comprehensive sweep-style investigation (拉网式摸排), listing officers and soldiers whose families face hardship—such as long-term separation between spouses or family members without stable income—and addressing each case with tailored solutions. We also introduced an innovative practice: printing the contact information of the organ comrades responsible for relevant service work onto cards and distributing them to the family members of every officer and soldier, telling them that if anything comes up at home they can contact the organ directly, without needing the officer or soldier to relay the message.
Unexpectedly, this small practice generated an exceptionally positive response. One military spouse said that before, she felt the unit was very far away, but now she feels the organization is right beside her. Another family member, facing difficulties with her child's school enrollment, called on the off chance it might help, and the organ quickly coordinated with the relevant units to resolve the issue. She sent a long WeChat message expressing her gratitude, saying, "I never expected that one phone call would actually work."
"Party committees of all units have continuously recalibrated their political-achievement orientation (政绩导向), successively introducing a series of practical measures, and working hard to resolve real difficulties in areas such as family member visits to the unit and officers' and soldiers' home leave"—this line from the reports left a deep impression on me. The view of political achievements (政绩观) is a party member cadre's fundamental perspective on and general understanding of political achievements. On the surface it is a question of how one views political achievements and what kind of political achievements one pursues; at a deeper level it is actually a question of for whom power is exercised. Political achievements are the result; the view of political achievements is the direction. Only when the direction is correct can the result stand firm. Truly weighty political achievements lie not in whether they are "visible," but in whether they are "genuine" and "substantive"—in whether problems have been solved and whether officers and soldiers recognize the work, in whether officers and soldiers can be free of concerns and devote themselves wholeheartedly to training and war preparation.
Institutions have boundaries; care has no end. It cannot be denied that the "last mile" (最后一公里) of policy and institution implementation may seem like a "short distance," yet it often requires making several more trips, thinking several more steps ahead, and asking several more questions. For example, with children's school enrollment: where educational resources near the garrison are relatively scarce, the enrollment needs of children must be thoroughly understood and advance coordination with relevant units must be made. Or with family member employment: it requires going door to door to units and enterprises, and coordinating public-interest positions one by one. These things are genuinely laborious to do, but no matter how laborious, they must be done—because for the organ, this may be just one item in routine work, but for an officer's or soldier's family, it is "a matter of the utmost importance."
Units are stationed at different altitudes, but the warmth of the organization must not vary accordingly. When the warm current of policies and institutions reaches the heart of every officer and soldier, the passion in their hearts for training and war preparation will burn ever higher.
The road home for family visits has changed from "running a gauntlet" to "going home"; military family members' hearts have changed from "understanding" to "at ease"—reading the article "The Road Home: Mountains No Longer High, Waters No Longer Long" in this series of reports, I was deeply moved. The report does not expound on grand principles; it simply tells the story of a military spouse's two family visits and a garrison-island soldier's home leave. Yet it is precisely these ordinary matters that strike the softest place in the hearts of grassroots officers, soldiers, and their families.
How difficult family visits were in earlier years, many who lived through that period know well. Because of inconvenient transportation, family members would drag large suitcases, transferring between trains and buses, sometimes not arriving at the barracks until late at night, often too exhausted to want to say much. Their other half felt guilty but also too embarrassed to ask for leave to meet them at the station, and could only urge the family member over the phone to "be patient." These helpless feelings hidden behind understanding are something officers and soldiers at many remote units and their families have experienced. No one says it aloud, but everyone understands: one family visit is like "fighting a battle."
Yet, as the reports state, the changes of recent years are real and tangible. Whether it is dedicated vehicles to meet family members at the station, family apartments ready for immediate move-in (拎包入住), or children's playgrounds built in the barracks for military children, these things may seem minor, but they have all made officers, soldiers, and their families genuinely feel the warmth.
We always say "military family members are glorious," but behind that "glory" is often the hardship of a military family member carrying an entire household alone. A child falls ill, an elderly parent is hospitalized, the house leaks, overtime at work—the other half is thousands of miles away and cannot help with anything. At such times, "glory" feels more like a spiritual consolation. Today, increasingly sound policies and institutions are turning "glory" into concrete, tangible care: the road for family visits has become easier, family housing has become more comfortable, children have places to play... When the road for family visits is one where "mountains are no longer high and waters are no longer long," family members have fewer worries, and officers' and soldiers' hearts are at peace.
"Serving officers and soldiers is serving combat effectiveness"—this line in the article points to the understanding of a correct view of political achievements. The view of political achievements (政绩观): in "political" (政) there is "rectitude" (正), in "achievements" (绩) there is "responsibility" (责), in "view" (观) there is "seeing" (见)—one must be ideologically upright and conduct oneself with integrity, take responsibility seriously and not shy away from difficulties, and also see the soldiers' situation (兵情) and hear the soldiers' voices (兵声), ultimately ensuring that officers and soldiers can focus without distraction on their work and endeavors. The oxygen canisters on the road home for family visits, the pots and pans in the family apartments, the flights that allow garrison-island officers and soldiers to return home at any time—these seemingly trivial "small matters" are each and every one connected to the hearts of officers and soldiers. When their spirits are settled and their sense of belonging is strong, their drive for training and war preparation will naturally be vigorous.
I believe that a combat-effective unit is also a unit with human warmth (人情味). Human warmth does not mean abandoning principles or being lax and slack; it means the organization treats officers and soldiers as family, making them feel it is worthy of their trust, so that they will put down roots and sharpen their skills. Conversely, if officers and soldiers have nowhere to voice their concerns and carry grievances in their hearts, how can they work and train with peace of mind? And where would the unit's combat effectiveness development begin?
However high the mountains, they cannot surpass longing; however long the waters, they cannot exceed care. Over these years, from organs to grassroots, from institutions to action, the matter of family visits has genuinely been improving step by step. I sincerely hope that more good policies and good institutions can take root at grassroots units, so that every road for family visits becomes a "road of happiness" in military family members' hearts, and the family harbor becomes a "reservoir" (蓄水池) for officers' and soldiers' training and war preparation.
The family affairs of officers and soldiers are not minor or private matters; they are major matters bearing on the stability of soldiers' hearts, the stability of the force, and the generation of combat effectiveness. In recent years, as various military-benefit policies have continued to reach down to the grassroots, many positive changes have been real and perceptible. But one must also clearly recognize that the warmth of service to officers and soldiers lies not only in increasingly sound policies and institutions, but also in the precision and attentiveness of implementation on the ground. Family member placement cannot end with "placement done and finished"—continuous follow-up on outcomes is required. School enrollment preferences cannot end with "enrollment done and finished"—follow-on coordination must be done well. Social activities cannot end with "event held and set aside"—targeted guidance must be provided to help officers and soldiers who are not good at expressing themselves open up... These seemingly trivial "follow-on chapters" (下篇文章) are precisely what most effectively warms soldiers' hearts and consolidates morale.
Leading and developing soldiers means not only keeping one's eyes on the training ground and grasping hard metrics; it also means safeguarding the "light of home" (一家灯火) behind every officer and soldier, so as to steady every soldier's heart.
Being in a company, I have witnessed many instances of the established patterns for investigating officers' and soldiers' difficulties: issuing documents to deploy the work, filling out forms and building files, compiling and publicizing the results—the entire procedure is orderly and the ledgers are complete, facilitating standardized management. But when it comes to difficulties that are "hard to speak of," the complete procedure actually becomes a barrier to soldiers seeking help: filling out forms raises fears of private information being leaked; public disclosure raises concerns about gossip and criticism. Many comrades mired in hardship would rather bear the pressure alone than apply for assistance. Over time, a paradox emerges: the more one clings to procedural completeness, the harder it sometimes becomes to touch the real situation of the soldiers (真实兵情), and standardized measures end up distancing the organ from officers and soldiers.
The approach described in the article "Care Delivered Quietly, Good News Arrives Gently" (《关怀默默送，喜讯款款来》) offers new thinking for breaking through this type of problem: abandoning the rigid mindset of making everything public and leaving a paper trail, and shedding the layers of formalistic constraints, so that soldiers can set aside their psychological reservations and reveal their genuine needs. The seemingly "quiet" investigations and "silent" assistance cut away the empty formalism on paper and add weight to sincere, substantive effort; behind them lies a heavy sense of responsibility and commitment.