Reporter's Field Notes | What Are Sentries Thinking While Standing Guard?
"Standing guard is an inescapable duty for soldiers, and all the more so for the People's Armed Police." After spending several days reporting at the PAP Xiangyang Detachment, this reporter felt that sentiment more deeply than ever.
The detachment is stationed in central China, with guard posts spread across a vast range of locations: cities, villages, waterways, mountain areas… This means that at any given moment, the detachment's many personnel are scattered across these various posts, all doing the same thing—standing guard. Many officers and soldiers told this reporter that, in their view, standing guard is combat.
Yet while on guard, soldiers inevitably feel fatigue to some degree; in the dead of night, it is equally hard to avoid a bout of quiet contemplation (静夜思). This reporter could not help but grow curious: what do officers and soldiers actually think about while standing guard?
On the midsummer plains of Jingchu, even deep in the night the temperature still exceeds 30°C. In front of the main gate of the detachment's garrison, the occasional lone pedestrian hurried past. The night was ink-black. Private First Class Feng Yihang stood ramrod straight at his post.
Feng Yihang fixed his gaze on the security zone while this reporter, from a distance, fixed a gaze on Feng Yihang. After he was relieved, the reporter jogged over, identified herself, and struck up a conversation.
"Young man, what made you enlist?" "To defend my home and country, of course!" "And now that you're a soldier, you must be proud?" "Proud, sure, it's just that we're always standing guard…" The bashful private scratched his head, as if he had said something wrong, then quickly blurted out: "But the squad leader said the guard post is the combat post. First, you can't let your guard down or doze off. Second, you have to stand this watch properly." At that, we both burst out laughing. He clearly didn't know how to answer, so he simply quoted his squad leader.
The laughter broke the ice. Feng Yihang said the reporter's question was one he had asked himself, but he hadn't known how to answer it. This time, he let his real thoughts show rather than brushing the question aside. He told the reporter that when he first stood guard, he was quite excited—but the second half of the night was the hardest to get through, and he kept fighting drowsiness.
"I'd count the headlights of passing cars, look at the stars, wonder what my family was having for dinner that night…" Feng Yihang told the reporter that new soldiers on guard duty inevitably have those moments when their body is at the post but their mind has flown away.
"But wouldn't that affect your readiness and interfere with your duty?" Faced with the reporter's concern, Feng Yihang answered squarely: "Absolutely not. We may get tired sometimes, but the guard post is a battlefield to us. The moment you stand there, a battle has begun. Maybe because we're young, we lack experience and might let our minds wander a little, but our eyes are always wide open—nothing that stirs in the wind or grass is going to slip past us."
Then he gave a sheepish chuckle and abruptly shifted tone: "The squad leader taught me a homespun method: keep silently reciting in my head the reminders and requirements he gave me before I went on post. He said, the more you recite them, the more your eyes see only the security zone, and you stop thinking about anything else…"
The following noon, the reporter brought this up with detachment leadership over lunch in the canteen. He laughed heartily: "In our unit, soldiers like little Feng average nearly five hours of guard duty per day. Aside from meals and sleep, they spend the better part of the day at their posts." His tone then grew more serious. "The hours are long, and many of the locations are extremely remote. In the eyes of many veteran soldiers, 'the guard post is the combat post' is not a slogan—it is plain truth, spoken from the heart."
Political Instructor Wang Shengqi from a neighboring unit at the next table joined the conversation. He told the reporter that in his view, the guard post is also a small classroom for conducting ideological work (思想工作). He then recounted a personal experience.
One night, Wang Shengqi went to inspect the guard posts. When he exchanged the password at one location, he noticed that although the sentry gave the correct countersign, the soldier seemed dazed and distracted. "Is something on your mind?" Wang Shengqi asked with concern, but the sentry looked uncomfortable and hemmed and hawed. "Then let me stand here with you for a while." When Wang Shengqi stood shoulder to shoulder with the sentry, he was surprised to discover, not far away, a vast expanse of golden rapeseed flowers rippling and surging in the moonlight and the glow of streetlamps—a scene of extraordinary beauty. "Political instructor, there's a field of rapeseed flowers just like this across from my home. When I was little I used to play in it all the time…" the sentry murmured, and Wang Shengqi suddenly understood.
"This place is your home now too." Wang Shengqi patted the young man from Henan who had just been assigned to the post. "Then guard it well. Every time the flowers bloom, your family back home is approaching harvest season. That is the meaning of your standing here."
Wang Shengqi told the reporter that in his view, soldiers standing guard are both fulfilling their duty and mission and confronting themselves directly. The small knots in their hearts can easily grow larger at such moments—but they can also be more readily untied.
Wang Shengqi's experience reminded the reporter of the famous line from the television series Soldier Assault (《士兵突击》), spoken by "Steppe Squad Five": Glory lies in the ordinary; the hardship lies in the length of time.
The reporter then rode a supply vehicle to the detachment's most remote solo guard post at Nanhe Temple. Located deep in the continuous Tongbai Mountain range, the winds are harsh, the water cold, the temperature swings between day and night are large, and human habitation is sparse. The officers and soldiers here call themselves "Mountain Squad Six." As the supply vehicle passed, Staff Sergeant Second Class Qiu Zhi'ao stood erect at his post and rendered a salute with the unmistakable bearing of a seasoned veteran. After being relieved, he jogged over to help us unload supplies. I noticed his cheeks were a dark, ruddy color; the cadre accompanying the vehicle said this was called "mountain red" (山里红). Qiu Zhi'ao heard this and flashed me a grin. I seized the moment to chat with him and asked what he had been thinking about while on guard just now.
"I was thinking about how to lead the soldiers in my squad. For instance, Private First Class Liu Mouyu is always too scared to stand guard at night." Qiu Zhi'ao spoke to the reporter without any hesitation, his voice loud and direct. This staff sergeant candidly acknowledged that standing guard in the wilderness in the middle of the night takes time for young soldiers to get used to, and he understood that. Nine years ago, when he stood his first watch, the guard tower was still a red-brick structure, pitch black at night. Without a veteran soldier alongside him, Qiu Zhi'ao's heart would pound, and the slightest sound would put him on edge. His squad leader at the time had volunteered to stand the night watch with him, teaching him how to carry his equipment and how to conduct inquiries and checks.
"Later, I did the same with my own soldiers, helping them adapt as quickly as possible." Qiu Zhi'ao then shifted course: "Except for this Liu Mouyu—to this day he still always wants me to accompany him." Qiu Zhi'ao found it both exasperating and funny.
After dinner, the reporter tracked down Liu Mouyu, who quietly confided that he was not actually timid or afraid. "What soldier is scared of the dark? Standing guard here, there's nothing but the sound of the wind and the sound of your own heartbeat. When you're alone and you see a light flickering far in the distance, you can't help thinking about home until your chest aches. It's different when the squad leader is there—your heart feels settled." The soldier spoke with a northeastern accent and declared with conviction: "Next time I'm assigned a night watch, I won't need the squad leader to come with me!"
As the reporting trip drew to a close and the reporter was about to leave, she encountered Staff Sergeant First Class Sun Yaobao at the high-speed rail station, just about to go on duty. This veteran has served for 14 years, has handled multiple emergency situations, and has been awarded two individual Third-Class Merits and one collective Third-Class Merit. The reporter asked him the same question. He answered without missing a beat: "The high-speed rail station is a complex environment with heavy foot traffic. While on foot patrol, I have to constantly adjust the patrol formation based on the surroundings, observe which people and vehicles look suspicious, watch for who is taking photographs, and think through how to respond to various situations according to the 'three-fast' (三快) response procedure…" His answer was professional and methodical, and this reporter, waiting for her train, felt entirely reassured.
Once aboard, the train sped forward, and outside the window cities and villages gave way to one another, mountain ranges folding over mountain ranges. The reporter's mind suddenly drifted back to an offhand remark made by a veteran soldier encountered earlier during reporting in the mountain area: "This is a no-man's-land. A person has to keep company with the mountains. When I first enlisted, I used to let my mind wander while standing guard too. But now I think about only one thing: standing this watch properly."