Ordnance Soldiers in the Deep Mountains: Hearts Fixed on Sea and Sky, Chests Full of Thunder

Far from the Sea, Close to the Warbirds

■ Ma Jing

These ordnance soldiers are far from the sea.

They hold their posts in little-known deep mountains, most of them not given to many words. They carry extraordinary stories, yet they are accustomed to understating them.

"Every post matters!" During the interviews, the ordnance soldiers often had this phrase on their lips. This reporter tried to understand their inner world, and as the interviews deepened, gradually came to understand: the steadfast watch kept below the mountains lifts the charge above; the sacrifice made offstage forges the brilliance in the clouds. Though they stand outside the spotlight, it is precisely because of their dedication that the warbirds spread their wings and soar again and again. The ordnance soldiers say that as long as they see the aircraft take off safely with the ordnance loaded, they feel every sacrifice has been worth it.

Staff Sergeant Third Class Liu Ye, an ordnance soldier, told this reporter that in his idle moments he likes to stand at a high point and gaze into the distance—gazing in the direction the warbirds have flown, gazing at the cooking smoke rising from nearby villages, gazing at the setting sun sinking behind the distant mountains. Year after year, he has lived these days.

In their spare time, the ordnance soldiers often hold "grass-cutting competitions." Liu Ye told this reporter with confidence that he is "the fastest grass-cutter here."

What Liu Ye calls a "grass-cutting competition" is simply everyone strapping on brush-cutters and tending the weeds in the garrison courtyard together, to see who can clear them fastest. In the sunlight, grass clippings drift into the air, and the smell of fresh-cut grass fills it. Liu Ye has been here for 19 years, and has been cutting the courtyard grass for 19 years.

Greatness is found in the ordinary; glory lies in perseverance. The ordnance soldiers take every matter seriously, large or small, because they hold firmly to these convictions: "The post is small, the responsibility is great"; "Far from the sea, close to the warbirds." Only when one generation of soldiers accelerates its pace can it drive the next generation to press forward. Look—through cold winters and hot summers, generation after generation of ordnance soldiers have kept watch here in relay, letting the mission shine through steadfastness and struggle.

The interview ended at dusk, and this reporter was about to leave by vehicle. The red sun hung low in the west; evening light filtered through gaps in the pine forest, scattering dappled shadows on the ground. The soldiers stood in a row at the garrison gate, waving farewell. As this reporter rolled down the car window, it suddenly became clear: they stand just like those green pines silently upright on the mountain, silently giving their youth to the barracks, using consummate and solid skill to complete every ordnance support mission, helping the warbirds sail safely into the distance.

Glory never belongs exclusively to great figures, great moments, or grand narratives. In the silence between mountains and sea, the ordnance soldiers' song of steadfastness and struggle never ceases. As the vehicle slowly pulled away from the garrison, this reporter looked back at the rugged mountain road and suddenly realized—this road is the ordnance soldiers' road of youth, their road of growth, their road of struggle, and their road of dreams.

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Ordnance Soldiers: Hearts Fixed on Sea and Sky, Chests Full of Thunder

■ Ma Jing, Sun Chao

*Upon receiving the order, ordnance soldiers deploy urgently. Photo by Ma Jing*

A square garrison courtyard sits at the foot of a mountain.

This is the station of the ammunition detachment of a Naval Aviation field station. Inside the courtyard, a group of young ordnance soldiers stand their post. Storage, maintenance, transfer—each piece of ordnance, after technical preparation, is delivered by their hands to beneath the wings, ready at any moment to head out over sea and sky. The ordnance soldiers' stage is far from the sea, but they lift the warbirds into flight in their own way. In the world of the ordnance soldier, the condition of a single piece of ordnance connects at one end to the wings of the warbird and at the other to the peace of the sea and sky.

Hearts fixed on sea and sky, chests full of thunder. When the sharp sword is unsheathed, that howl, that roar, is the ordnance soldiers' silent oath—the echo of their original aspiration (初心).

Between Sowing and Harvest Lies a Road Called "Perseverance"

"The night at the naval port is so still; the waves rock the warships gently; young sailors rest their heads on the swells, smiling sweetly in their dreams…" The song "Night at the Naval Port" (军港之夜) has ignited the naval dreams of countless ambitious young people.

Back then, 18-year-old Liu Ye came to the military carrying a naval dream, never expecting to put down roots at the foot of this mountain—and to stay for 19 years. When he first arrived, feelings of loneliness and boredom crept over his young heart like ants, again and again.

But at some point he can no longer recall, Liu Ye gradually came to love this place. Time passed; wrinkles crept to the corners of his eyes, yet his gaze grew ever more resolute.

Ordnance soldiers deal with weapons and ammunition year-round. The risk factor is high; there is no room for the slightest error.

One summer, during ordnance technical preparation, an operator was securing the tail fin of a piece of ordnance when a small screw suddenly stripped. Even though the ordnance had already passed earlier inspections, Liu Ye's heart lurched—that stripped screw was an unknown variable.

Liu Ye and his comrades reported the situation up the chain while preparing to replace the screw. But the screw was in an awkward position, and after searching the entire tool room they could not find the right extraction tool.

In the urgency of the moment, Liu Ye and his comrades picked up a short-handled screwdriver, placed a thin sheet of high-friction paper against the screw head, and pressed the screwdriver with the palm of the hand to turn it. At last, they extracted the stripped screw and replaced it with a new one.

They had followed the operating manual precisely—so why had the screw stripped? After repeated investigation, Liu Ye identified the problem: the operating instructions in the manual assumed that the operator was already proficient with the equipment. If an operator lacked proficiency and could not control the torque properly, stripping was entirely possible. Liu Ye reported the situation to higher authority; soon afterward, the manufacturer combined this feedback with practical conditions and optimized the relevant manufacturing process for that type of equipment.

"The longer I serve, the more cautious I become," Liu Ye admitted frankly. The moment he steps to his station, he tenses up immediately, throwing himself entirely into the inspection and operation, afraid of missing even the most subtle hidden hazard.

Last winter, Liu Ye, as a backbone member of a mission detachment, was dispatched by higher authority to carry out an ordnance support mission at a remote location. He and his comrades set out from the foot of the mountain and, after a circuitous journey, finally reached the mission airfield.

On the first day after arriving, standing at the edge of the airfield, Liu Ye was struck by the scene before him: on the long runway, various types of aircraft were either taking off toward training airspace or returning from training to land. These were sights Liu Ye had never seen before.

He then walked into the ordnance technical preparation room. The informatized equipment had a strong sense of technological sophistication, and Liu Ye exclaimed repeatedly, "This is incredible."

His eyes could not take in enough of the novelty; waves of feeling surged in his heart. That night, he lay in bed tossing and turning, with a persistent sense of unreality, as scenes from years past floated before him.

That year, Liu Ye had been executing an ordnance escort mission. The early spring nights were still cold; Liu Ye and his comrades pitched their tent inside a railway car and slept beside the ordnance packing crates. The car was stifling, and they could not sleep at night. In the end, Liu Ye and his comrades spent more than ten days on that escort route before successfully completing the mission.

From the crude, sweltering railway car to the technologically sophisticated ordnance technical preparation room, Liu Ye felt the rapid development of the force over these years, and along the way harvested the fruits of his own growth.

Nineteen years in uniform, he has always believed that between sowing and harvest lies a road called "perseverance"—

Through winters and summers, he led the mission detachment to innovate and optimize the emergency ordnance support model, effectively shortening ammunition loading preparation time.

Through springs and autumns, he led the mission detachment to explore and develop a refined support and training organization model that integrates training with combat, and tactics with technique.

Time and again, ordnance was safely transferred; time and again, the warbirds were seen safely aloft. And all the while, a voice grew ever clearer in Liu Ye's heart: the small patch of ground at the foot of the mountain is the destination worth pursuing with everything he has.

Sprint with Full Force to Leave Rivals Behind, and Stride Forward to Surpass Yourself

Corporal Zou Jiawen is a directly recruited non-commissioned officer. On the day he first arrived at the ammunition detachment, Zou Jiawen looked over the bright-yellow three-story building before him, and a flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes.

"What is the meaning of being here every day?" In his free time, Zou Jiawen would often sit in the courtyard gazing at the rolling mountains, waiting for a warbird to pass over the garrison, then listening as the roar of its engines gradually faded into the distance.

One day, Zou Jiawen called a comrade who had enlisted in the same cohort. On the other end of the line, that comrade—serving in a submarine unit—was at that moment writing a "last letter" (遗书) because he was about to execute an urgent mission. A ripple broke across the calm surface of Zou Jiawen's heart: "If it were me, what would I do?"

At the time, Zou Jiawen had no answer to that question.

During the National Day holiday, the detachment organized officers and soldiers to climb the mountain together. Zou Jiawen puffed and panted his way to the front of the group. Sweat ran down his forehead; he wiped it away with his hand and kept charging toward the summit.

No one knew why the quiet Zou Jiawen was so determined to be first. At that moment, only one thought filled his mind: "Climb to the top and see what lies on the other side of the mountain."

Reaching the summit, the view opened up before him. Liu Ye pointed into the distance and said: "Jiawen, that over there is our airfield. Our ordnance is loaded there, then flies with the warbirds out over the sea and sky."

Gazing in the direction of the airfield, Zou Jiawen was silent for a long moment before saying: "Detachment leader, next time you go to the airfield for a support mission, can you take me along?"

The green pines on the mountain still stand tall; the sailor at the mountain's foot has quietly grown. Today, Zou Jiawen can not only complete ordnance technical support missions at his own level, but also regularly accompanies the mission detachment to execute missions hundreds of kilometers away. "These past two years, sometimes I feel time passes very slowly, and sometimes I feel it flies by," Zou Jiawen said. "During ordnance technical preparation, if I'm slow by one small step, the steps that follow could be slow by a large one. I have to fight for every second."

Last winter, Zou Jiawen accompanied the mission detachment to a naval port to execute an ordnance transfer mission.

The ordnance transport vehicle drove along the asphalt road of the naval port, and Zou Jiawen pressed his face against the window, transfixed by the warships moored alongside. It was a sight he had never seen before—so much so that even as the ordnance transport vehicle drove into the testing hall, he was still craning his neck to look back at the warships, now half-hidden from view.

Not long afterward, Zou Jiawen received notice that the unit was about to organize a certain exercise mission. What excited him was that his mission detachment, as one link in the support chain, appeared on the list of participating units.

During the mission briefing, listening to the commanding officer's resounding words, a surge of heat rolled through Zou Jiawen's chest. In that moment, he felt like a warrior on the eve of battle, waiting only for the order to be given.

In the struggle of day after day, the ordnance soldiers are also continuously coming to understand anew the posts they hold.

Lieutenant Zhang Yalun is a directly recruited officer. Three years ago, upon learning there was an opportunity to join the "Blue Formation" (蓝色方阵), he and his university class leader both applied. In the end, Zhang Yalun came to this ordnance support unit at the foot of the mountain.

"If war comes tomorrow!" This is the warning Zhang Yalun wrote on the inside cover of his notebook. The large exclamation mark reflects the sense of urgency in his heart—that time waits for no one. "No matter what post you hold, you must fulfill your due responsibilities and be prepared to fight," he said.

Due responsibilities are forged through ten thousand repetitions of tempering, through the relentless pursuit of excellence.

Excellence in the details—in daily training, Zhang Yalun led the transfer detachment to streamline and optimize the deployment procedure; in pursuit of being "just a bit faster," they refined their movements to the step and broke down the timing to the second.

Excellence in speed—in remote support missions, Zhang Yalun led the mission detachment to repeatedly refine the emergency deployment process, cutting ordnance technical preparation time again and again.

"Raising an exam score from 60 to 80 may be relatively easy, but raising it from 90 to 100 is a different order of difficulty," Zhang Yalun said. An outstanding soldier must sprint with full force to leave rivals behind, and stride forward to surpass himself.

The More You Train, the More Your Potential Becomes Confidence; With Confidence, No Difficulty on the Road Ahead Can Stop You

*Ordnance soldiers record measurement data. Photo by Ma Jing*

On the airfield, several warbirds stand in neat formation, ready to take off at any moment.

In the ordnance technical preparation room at one corner of the airfield, ordnance soldier Wang Biao is carrying out ordnance technical preparation work. Speaking of the new changes that have emerged in training over the past two years, Wang Biao has one vivid impression: "The preparation time left for us ordnance soldiers is getting shorter and shorter."

Opening crates for inspection, loading ammunition, signal testing—at this moment, the ordnance soldiers have just completed technical inspection and accessory mounting, and are preparing to move the ordnance out of storage. Wang Biao operates a forklift in precise coordination with the commander, steadily transferring the ordnance packing crates onto the transport vehicle.

The ordnance transport vehicle then arrives at the apron and pulls up to the loading position in front of the aircraft. Wang Biao uses the forklift to place the ordnance at the designated position and hands it off to the aircraft maintenance soldiers.

Immediately afterward, Wang Biao reaches into the breast pocket of his combat uniform, pulls out a stopwatch, and presses pause. Looking at the number on the stopwatch, he curls the corners of his mouth slightly upward and reports to the commander: "This ordnance transfer took five minutes less than last time!"

Over the years, "running the stopwatch" has become a training habit for Wang Biao and his comrades. The moment he receives the transfer order and steps into the ordnance technical preparation room, Wang Biao starts the stopwatch.

"Time is most generous—it gives everyone 24 hours; time is also most miserly—it gives no one more than 24 hours." Wang Biao is fond of this saying. He firmly believes that "diligence can compensate for lack of talent" (勤能补拙), and he tells younger comrades: "If you're not fast enough, practice it again and again."

Recently, the mission detachment Wang Biao belongs to voluntarily raised the pressure on itself and organized nighttime emergency ordnance support training. During the training, Wang Biao and his comrades coordinated with high efficiency and ultimately succeeded in significantly shortening nighttime ordnance transfer preparation time. Wang Biao said: "Aircraft flight preparation time is getting shorter and shorter today, and that requires us ordnance soldiers to accelerate our own transformation."

One ordnance soldier's view of transformation reflects that the concept of transforming toward combat (向战转型) has already taken deep root in the hearts of the soldiers. In recent years, the detachment has comprehensively launched ordnance management data collection and collation work, building a supporting database to lay the data foundation for achieving informatized ammunition management, and has substantially raised the level of weapons and equipment management and support.

Sergeant Bao Chaoxuan deals with data almost every day. Last year, the detachment was equipped with a quality monitoring information management system, and from that point on, Bao Chaoxuan became the ordnance's "information steward."

"I always feel like there isn't enough time!" Following Bao Chaoxuan's hurried footsteps, this reporter walked into the detachment's quality control room.

It is not large—a room of more than 40 square meters, holding four computers and a rectangular conference table.

It is not small either—a small screen, a view of the whole picture. Open the information management system, click the mouse, and ordnance information from hundreds of kilometers away is immediately laid out at a glance.

"This place is like an information relay station—all ordnance information converges here, and is then distributed and processed," Bao Chaoxuan said.

The telephone in the quality control room rings frequently. Bao Chaoxuan brings the receiver to his ear, then tucks it against his left shoulder, his fingers flying across the keyboard—entering information, or looking up data. The sense of responsibility and mission toward his post drives Bao Chaoxuan to keep winding his own "mainspring" (发条): vast quantities of ordnance information need to be mastered, so he takes the time to categorize and memorize it; when he encounters unfamiliar situations, he goes to the relevant specialist departments to ask for guidance.

A truly strong person is never all-powerful—only able to do their utmost. He tells newly arrived comrades in the detachment: "The more you train, the more your potential becomes confidence; with confidence, no difficulty on the road ahead can stop you."

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In the Words of a Witness

"One Second Faster in Ordnance Preparation, One Point More of Battlefield Advantage"

■ Staff Sergeant Third Class Liu Ye

Speed can be described as "fast" or "slow." If the speed of ordnance transport and support were placed in a dialectical relationship with each other, what would that look like?

Not long ago, I participated in an ordnance support mission. As usual, I coordinated with the aircraft maintenance officers and soldiers according to the prescribed procedures, rapidly completing ordnance preparation. Only when I heard the flight control tower transmit the order "weapons successfully released" did the furrow in my brow finally ease.

For this ordnance support mission, from receiving the order to completing ordnance loading, my comrades and I had only a brief 25-minute window. Over the past two years, as multi-aircraft-type support missions have become routine, this kind of "rush job" has become our daily bread.

A light breeze blew; the aircraft, loaded with ordnance, roared into the sky. Gazing in the direction the aircraft had gone, I thought about how to further strengthen coordination with the aircraft maintenance officers and soldiers in the next step, to make the ordnance loading speed just a bit faster.

The speed of ordnance loading is directly tied to the speed at which aircraft can sortie. After years of striving at the ordnance support post, I have my own understanding of the word "speed": "One second faster in ordnance preparation, one point more of battlefield advantage."

That year, as a new type of aircraft was inducted into the unit, we took on a new type of ordnance support mission.

Facing new missions and new equipment, everyone kept winding their own "mainspring." How to complete ordnance loading at greater speed while ensuring safety was a question we thought about constantly. Through in-depth research, we placed our breakthrough focus on the installation of air-drop accessories.

The installation of air-drop accessories is directly related to whether the aircraft can stably and safely carry the ordnance, and it is a severe test of the ordnance soldier's technical level. In the end, my comrades and I, targeting the new ordnance support requirements, sorted out and summarized a set of ordnance operating standards and standard loading procedures for different environments. Later, this set of standards and procedures was promoted and applied across the unit, raising the speed of ordnance loading.

Today, I have become an ordnance support technician capable of supporting multiple aircraft types, multiple ordnance types, and multiple equipment types. Looking to the future, I still hold firmly to that saying: "One second faster in ordnance preparation, one point more of battlefield advantage!"

(Compiled by Ma Jing)