China's Border | On the Banks of the Ussuri River, Standing Watch for the Motherland

On the Banks of the Ussuri River, Standing Watch for the Motherland

■ Li Yingbo, Wang Gan

The Ussuri River has thawed from its winter freeze, and officers and soldiers of the Zhuaji Outpost, belonging to a certain brigade of the Northern Theater Command Army stationed at the Belahong checkpoint, are conducting boat patrols.

Aboard the vessel, a soldier is observing conditions on the river's surface. Photo by Li Gen.

Belahong Township, in the far northeast borderlands, sits along the banks of the Ussuri River. Each year from April through November, once the river breaks free of its frozen period, officers and soldiers of the Zhuaji Outpost of a certain brigade of the Northern Theater Command Army arrive here to carry out boat patrols and fixed-post duty.

In the television drama "Soldiers' Sortie" (士兵突击), "Steppe Squad Five" was located deep in a remote grassland, a five-hour drive from the regimental headquarters, yet a handful of soldiers grew steadily and solidly there, truly embodying what it means to "never abandon, never give up" (不抛弃、不放弃) and what it means to be a genuine soldier.

The officers and soldiers of the Belahong checkpoint are the same. They are stationed on a remote and desolate riverbank, and through day after day of duty and patrol they have cultivated an extraordinary spirit of perseverance — which is why people also call them "Riverside Squad Five" (江畔五班).

Stationed on the banks of the Ussuri River, the outpost's officers and soldiers cover a duty range spanning dozens of kilometers of river, requiring uninterrupted observation of the river's surface around the clock. Whether under blazing sun or raging storms, there can be not the slightest slackening.

In summer, Belahong is a kingdom of insects. The horseflies and mosquitoes here are large-bodied; their bites are both painful and itchy. Even wearing thick combat uniforms and mosquito-proof hats, soldiers on duty can hardly avoid being covered in red welts. At midday, surface temperatures reach over 40 degrees Celsius. Sweat streams down the soldiers' faces, and after a single patrol their combat uniforms are soaked through and cling tightly to their bodies. Yet the officers and soldiers often say: "Grit your teeth through the mosquito bites, bear up under the scorching sun — there can be not half a moment's carelessness on duty."

Every July and August, violent rainstorms strike Belahong frequently, and the Ussuri River enters its flood season. The river surface widens and the current runs extremely swift. The soil along the banks is washed loose and soft, and landslides or river backflow can occur at any moment, threatening the lives and property of nearby villagers.

The outpost's officers and soldiers proactively provide flood-season early warnings for villagers, safeguarding the people's safety. They monitor water-level changes at fixed times each day, closely tracking weather forecasts and hydrological information. The moment they detect that water levels are approaching the warning threshold or that signs of danger are emerging, they immediately notify villagers along the banks to move their belongings in advance and evacuate hazardous areas.

The dead of night is often when various emergencies and special situations (险情、特情) are most likely to occur, making nighttime duty an even greater test of the soldiers' willpower. One night around midnight, Private First Class Shi Weiye was vigilantly observing the river surface when he suddenly spotted several small boats quietly approaching the border line. He immediately reported the situation, and Deputy Company Commander Wa Shengjiu led a team that rushed to the scene and promptly stopped an incident of cross-border fishing. "The deeper the night, the more vigilant we must be. Every extra measure of perseverance on our part means one more measure of security for the border," said Shi Weiye, adding that after that incident he gained a far deeper understanding of the word "mission."

Beyond the harsh natural environment, the long duty routes are also full of challenges. Officers and soldiers must travel back and forth between various positions every day, and in many cases can only make their way on foot across tidal flats, with muddy weeds and sharp gravel underfoot. On one occasion, Sergeant Feng Yongjian accidentally sprained his ankle. So as not to delay the duty schedule, he persisted and completed the full route, only to return to the outpost and discover that his ankle had swollen enormously. Yet he showed not the slightest grievance, and said with a smile: "A small injury like this is nothing."

The outpost's officers and soldiers live at Belahong in cramped mobile modular shelters (移动方舱). During the day they are stifling hot, like a steamer; at night the river wind carries a bone-chilling cold, and the soldiers often have to wrap themselves tightly in quilts and clothing to sleep. Mobile phone signals come and go. For most of the time, the soldiers' world consists of nothing but the sound of the water on the river and the light of the observation post.

In the four years Deputy Company Commander Wa Shengjiu has held his post, he has come to the Belahong checkpoint for duty every year. By now his face has been tanned dark and gleaming, and his eyes carry a look of toughness and resolve. Wa Shengjiu knows well the hardships his comrades endure, so he uses rest time to lead everyone in hands-on improvements to the shelter environment. They build simple tables and chairs from discarded wooden planks they have gathered, fashion empty plastic bottles into flower pots, and plant a few wild flowers — bringing a touch more vitality and warmth to the spartan outpost.

"Look up at the Five-Starred Red Flag flying before the shelter door, and no matter how bitter or exhausting it gets, it's all worth it!" As the outpost's officers and soldiers say, standing guard at Belahong and keeping watch for the motherland is both a mission and a duty — and even more, an honor and a happiness.