Barracks Observation | Two Evergreen Trees, A Group of Mountain Sentinels

Two Evergreen Trees, A Group of Mountain Sentinels

■ Wang Yuanbin, People's Navy News reporter Shi Shuang, PLA Daily special correspondent Fu Kang

The mountains stretch on without end, wind threading through the gaps in the rock. The jagged stone cuts off all clamor. Nestled in this silence is the garrison of a technical detachment of the Northern Theater Command Navy. The officers and soldiers stand watch beside a cave depot deep in the mountains, charged with ensuring the ammunition supply needed by naval vessels.

On this day, a special commendation ceremony was being held in the garrison.

As the detachment's political instructor, Chen, read out name after name, the commended personnel jogged forward one by one and received with both hands a special handcrafted badge — a badge inlaid with sprigs of vivid green pine needles, with the characters for "take root" (扎根) engraved on the back.

"In the 1950s, the unit's first generation of officers and soldiers built this garrison on a barren mountain and planted two pine trees with their own hands, naming them the 'Unity Tree' (团结树) and the 'Cohesion Tree' (向心树). These pine needles were gathered from those two evergreens." Political Instructor Chen told reporters that, in order to carry forward the spirit of the older generation of officers and soldiers — taking root in the deep mountains and persevering without yielding — the detachment holds a "Pine Needle Badge" presentation ceremony every quarter to commend personnel who have distinguished themselves in daily work and major missions.

Staff Sergeant Second Class Zheng Yi was receiving a commendation for the first time. He accepted the "Pine Needle Badge" with solemnity and gripped it tightly in his palm. In that moment, his heart overflowed with the pride of having striven and struggled.

For these officers and soldiers in the mountains, the small "Pine Needle Badge" has long since become a profound emotional bond, one that keeps them rooted here without regret or complaint.

Beneath the "Unity Tree," the political instructor presents a soldier with a "Pine Needle Badge." Photo by Wang Zhaoguang

Inspecting the depot. Photo by Su Tenglong

The Green Pines Bear Witness ——

"Guarding the mountain is guarding the heart; what we guard is this inheritance. As long as the roots remain, we will keep watch."

That year, Political Instructor Chen left a naval vessel unit and came to serve at a technical detachment of the Northern Theater Command Navy, deep in the mountains. The unfamiliar environment and unfamiliar personnel left him at a loss as to where to begin in order to lead the unit well.

One afternoon after lunch, he was walking alone through the garrison when he spotted Master Sergeant Second Class Wang Qingwei crouching before a large boulder engraved with the character for "home" (家), a brush dipped in red paint in hand, tracing over the characters stroke by stroke. This puzzled Political Instructor Chen: the unit had issued no such task — why was he doing this on his own initiative?

"These characters were left by our predecessors. I don't want to see them fade," Wang Qingwei answered. "While the characters remain, the roots remain." In that moment, Political Instructor Chen suddenly sensed that the officers and soldiers here possessed a particular kind of strength — not driven by orders, not by slogans, but rooted downward from the heart.

Not long after, the unit decided to hold a themed education activity titled "Carry Forward the Root Vein, Continue the Glory" (传承根脉 赓续荣光), and invited a group of veterans back to the garrison. On the day of the activity, Political Instructor Chen accompanied several veterans on a walk through the garrison. When they reached the two green pines, two of the veterans suddenly stopped in their tracks.

Then, the two white-haired veterans extended slightly trembling hands and gently plucked a few pine needles from the drooping branches, carefully wrapped them in handkerchiefs, and tucked them into their pockets.

One of the veterans was named Li Dehou — the very man who had planted those two trees with his own hands. In the 1950s, he had spent twelve years on this mountain. Now the trees remained green, but his hair had turned white. "Carrying pine needles from these two trees is like keeping my roots here," he said in a hoarse voice. "Wherever I go, my heart is at ease."

"It was far harder back then than it is now," another veteran reflected. "We lived in small shelters we built ourselves, drank water from mountain gullies, and the road beneath our feet was paved with rock we broke off the mountain one hammer blow at a time. Back then everyone was of one mind — no one ever thought of leaving. We just felt that this place needed us, and that what we were doing was meaningful."

The veterans' words were seared deep into Political Instructor Chen's heart. After the activity ended, he turned the matter over for a long time: the resilient, enduring green of those two pines was the embodiment of the spirit of hard struggle passed down through generation after generation of officers and soldiers. But how could that spirit be carried forward and transmitted? To that end, Political Instructor Chen sought out several senior noncommissioned officers to deliberate together.

Master Sergeant First Class Liu Huibo had spent thirty years in these mountains and understood their loneliness better than anyone: "This place can be so quiet it makes you uneasy. Over time, if you can't find your own sense of worth, people won't stay." Wang Qingwei added: "Preaching grand principles is useless. People need to touch it with their own hands and see it with their own eyes — to know that what they're doing here is meaningful and worthwhile."

Political Instructor Chen had a direction. That autumn, he led several backbone personnel to carefully select pine needles from the two trees, then sealed and polished them in clear resin to create the special "Pine Needle Badges." At a summary meeting, Political Instructor Chen personally presented these badges to several officers and soldiers who had distinguished themselves in a mission.

"At first I wasn't sure — would anyone take this badge seriously?" he told reporters.

At the presentation ceremony that day, Political Instructor Chen handed a badge to a senior noncommissioned officer who was normally a man of few words. What he didn't expect was that, after accepting the badge, the old soldier said something that made Political Instructor Chen's eyes sting: "Guarding the mountain is guarding the heart; what we guard is this inheritance. As long as the roots remain, we will keep watch."

In that moment, Political Instructor Chen knew: this "Pine Needle Badge" carried a special weight.

The following year, the technical detachment formally institutionalized the selection and presentation of the "Pine Needle Badge," using it to honor officers and soldiers who, like the green pines, take root downward and grow upward in their daily work and major missions.

New Needles Growing ——

"The confusion in my heart was driven away by something more solid, more burning."

Private Du Zexuan first laid eyes on the "Pine Needle Badge" at the moment he was most adrift.

Half a year earlier, Du Zexuan had boarded the troop transport vehicle full of anticipation, imagining a military life aboard a warship, battling wind and waves. What he did not expect was that, departing from the dock, the silhouette of the warship grew ever more distant. Outside the window, unbroken mountains swept past one after another, the surroundings growing ever more desolate.

As the vehicle drove into the garrison, the two green pines standing amid the mountains came into view — their trunks vigorous, their branches full and lush. But Du Zexuan had no mood to take them in. He was deeply disappointed by the environment, and in his heart he was already having second thoughts.

Not long after joining his squad, Du Zexuan encountered an around-the-clock emergency support exercise. The exercise required standing watch inside the cave depot for a week, which left him feeling apprehensive.

"Once the ammunition you've supported is loaded onto a warship and fired from the barrel, you'll understand why we stand watch here," Squad Leader Li Jiuzhou said earnestly to the new soldiers entering the depot for the first time.

Inside the deep-mountain cave depot, the air was damp and the smell of chemicals sharp. After a few days, Du Zexuan felt pain throughout his joints and found it difficult to breathe. Yet none of his fellow soldiers complained, and unwilling to be the one who gave in, he gritted his teeth and held on.

Not long after that mission, the unit organized a new-soldier education activity. Political Instructor Chen brought them to the two pine trees and recounted the arduous years of founding the unit: "In the 1950s, the older generation of officers and soldiers broke ground and built roads on this uninhabited mountain, and with the tenacity of green pines, built on this wilderness the coastal defense stronghold that stands today!"

Looking at the "Pine Needle Badge" in the political instructor's hand — the pine needles vivid and bright beneath the clear resin — Du Zexuan felt a spiritual resonance for the first time. He felt as though the pine needles had crossed time and space to connect him with predecessors he had never met. "The confusion in my heart was driven away by something more solid, more burning."

At the close of the education activity, Political Instructor Chen led the new soldiers in picking up brushes to together trace over the red characters on the boulder engraved with "home." Crop after crop of new soldiers who had traced those characters gradually came to understand the meaning of perseverance in the course of ordinary days, and slowly grasped the weight of that "Pine Needle Badge."

One night in the early hours, the unit suddenly received orders from higher command: provide emergency ammunition support for a certain vessel. When the mission came, the officers and soldiers moved immediately. Du Zexuan followed the transport vehicles to the destination and completed the hoisting at maximum speed. "Ammunition safely loaded — please verify and accept!" Hearing the veteran call out the handover command, Du Zexuan stood in the ranks and clenched his fists, his heart surging with emotion.

When the mission was successfully concluded, the unit organized a special ceremony to commend the officers and soldiers who had performed outstandingly. Amid warm applause from the entire assembly, Du Zexuan stepped forward and carefully received the "Pine Needle Badge" from Political Instructor Chen's hands. A sense of achievement unlike anything he had felt before welled up within him.

That evening, back in the barracks, Du Zexuan carefully put the precious badge away and wrote a line of verse in neat characters on the flyleaf of his notebook: "Heavy snow presses down on the green pine; the green pine stands straight and tall." It was his interpretation of the badge, and his demand and expectation of himself.

"Our post may seem to be at the edge of the battlefield, yet it is an indispensable link in the fight," Du Zexuan said. "I hope that I, too, can be like those two green pines — driving my roots into this land, and not letting down the glory this badge carries."

Keeping Watch in the Deep Mountains ——

"Roots intertwined, hearts gathered in one place — even the most desolate mountain can be warm as home."

For decades, the two green pines named "Unity Tree" and "Cohesion Tree" have taken deep root in the garrison. The badges made from their needles have carried the spirit of "unity" (团结) and "cohesion" (向心) to every officer and soldier.

"This is a place you don't want to leave once you've come. The longer you stay, the more you treat it as home," said Corporal Du Tianyu.

Du Tianyu still remembers that winter when he was still a private first class. In the dead of night, snow falling heavily, he was struck by acute intestinal obstruction and curled up on his bunk in agony. The deputy detachment commander noticed something was wrong during his bunk inspection, and without a word called two squad leaders, wrapped Du Tianyu in a military overcoat, and carried him down the mountain.

The snow on the mountain road was more than ten centimeters deep, and the wheels kept spinning out. At one steep slope the vehicle could not make it up, so the deputy detachment commander jumped out and took turns with the two squad leaders carrying Du Tianyu on their backs.

By the time Du Tianyu woke up in a hospital bed, it was past three in the morning. The deputy detachment commander and the squad leaders were all at his side. Seeing him open his eyes, the first thing they said was: "How do you feel? Does it still hurt?" Hearing those words, Du Tianyu's tears came all at once.

"In that moment I thought: I could stay here for the rest of my life," he said.

Staying was not easy. After the surgery, Du Tianyu lost more than twenty jin and was so weak he could not do a single pull-up. His comrades cheered him on every day, and his squad leader helped him work out a sound training plan. Day by day, Du Tianyu's body slowly recovered and his scores across all training subjects kept improving. The following autumn, he passed the noncommissioned officer selection examination with excellent marks across all subjects and received a commendation as an outstanding "Four Haves" (四有) soldier.

That day, beneath the two green pines, Political Instructor Chen placed a "Pine Needle Badge" in Du Tianyu's hands and said: "This badge is awarded to those who have made this place their home." Small as the "Pine Needle Badge" was, Du Tianyu felt its weight.

For Corporal Zhang Tao, the years in the deep mountains never felt lonely, because of the care of the comrades around him.

Last year, the unit received an urgent notice: a warship would set sail at dawn the next morning, and they had to complete ammunition loading that same night. That day happened to be Zhang Tao's birthday.

The mission ended deep in the night. His comrades improvised with what was on hand — self-heating hot pots, instant noodles, and packaged bread — to cobble together a "field deluxe set meal," and pressed this special birthday gift into Zhang Tao's hands just before midnight. In the moonlight, his comrades sang the birthday song for him together. The singing carried far, and lingered long in Zhang Tao's heart.

On the way back to the barracks, Zhang Tao looked at the two green pines standing silent and upright in the night, and suddenly understood the meaning of "Unity Tree" and "Cohesion Tree": "Roots intertwined, hearts gathered in one place — even the most desolate mountain can be warm as home."

That warmth from the collective, Zhang Tao quietly passed on to more of his comrades. Because he loves painting, he ordered a good deal of art supplies online. Every weekend, Zhang Tao spreads out his paper and uses his brush to record the scenes in his heart — he has painted warships cleaving through waves, sailing toward the deep blue; painted comrades standing side by side beneath the green pines, laughing and talking; and painted a collective oath-taking ceremony, every person's chest bearing a "Pine Needle Badge."

A "Promise" Made for One Badge

■ Staff Sergeant Second Class Ming Sen

A few days ago, a new soldier asked me: is it hard to earn a "Pine Needle Badge"? I answered without hesitation: hard.

I still remember arriving in the mountains a few years ago, unable to overcome the sense of letdown in my heart, unable to muster enthusiasm for anything I did. The first time I took part in a support exercise, my operations were riddled with errors and omissions, and I dragged down the entire specialty.

At the after-action review, when I heard that my specialty had come in last, I was too ashamed to lift my head. After the results were announced, the political instructor stood before the ranks and presented "Pine Needle Badges" to the individuals who had performed outstandingly. As the applause rang out, the badge gleamed in the sunlight, and my heart filled with longing.

That was the first time I saw what a "Pine Needle Badge" looked like. From that day on, I made a "promise" to myself: through my own effort, I would earn a badge as soon as I could.

I began putting in extra hours in the study room, memorizing specialized knowledge, filling notebook after notebook. At an exchange session not long after, I summoned the courage to speak from the heart: "Before, I dragged the specialty down. In the future I will redouble my efforts to catch up, and I hope that one day I can earn a badge."

The comrades below looked up at me with sincere encouragement. Many senior noncommissioned officers told me they had been through similar experiences and cheered me on. During that period, many comrades came to help me on their own initiative — my squad leader drew up a study and training plan for me, and other backbone personnel used their rest time to give me extra instruction, helping me grow quickly.

One night in the early hours, the unit received orders: a certain vessel was departing on short notice and required overnight ammunition support. The unit leadership, having seen my progress, entrusted me for the first time with responsibility for a key link in the ammunition technical inspection.

From the time the moon was bright and the stars sparse to the first light of dawn, my comrades and I checked the ammunition crate by crate, without even a sip of water. Swirling dust forced its way into our mouths and noses, and I felt a bitter taste rising in my throat. Inventory, out of depot, inspection, loading — I carefully confirmed every step to ensure nothing was left to chance.

That day, the mission was completed successfully, and our support efficiency was recognized by the vessel's officers and soldiers. At the subsequent commendation ceremony, the political instructor stood before the ranks and called out my name first. In that instant, I was overwhelmed with excitement. It was only when the comrade beside me gave me a nudge that I came to my senses, jogged forward quickly, and received the "Pine Needle Badge" amid the applause of the entire assembly.

Back in the barracks, I held the badge and studied it for a long time: it is not merely a few pine needles — it is the crystallization and witness of effort and sweat. This badge represents that I have fulfilled my "promise" to myself, and have truly driven my roots into this mountain.

Now that I have become a squad leader, I have made a "new promise" to myself: to strive to see every soldier under my command wear that "Pine Needle Badge."

Roots in the Mountain Rock, Hearts Pledged to the Sea

■ Wang Yuanbin

During the interview, I asked one question: in all your years of service, do you have any regrets? Master Sergeant Second Class Wang Qingwei's eyes reddened. He said his regret was that he had "never once seen with his own eyes the ammunition he supported fired from the barrel."

Walking into this garrison deep in the mountains, it is easy to be moved by a quality of purity in the atmosphere — the officers and soldiers here speak directly, smile openly, and their eyes are clear. This purity is what allows them to endure the lonely years far from the noise of the world, standing watch day after day over a damp and dim cave depot. Because they hold "I" lightly and "we" heavily.

Master Sergeant First Class Liu Huibo has kept watch here for thirty years, bringing up batch after batch of specialty backbone personnel. Yet when it comes to personal honors, this veteran has been awarded only a single third-class merit citation.

It is not that Liu Huibo is insufficiently outstanding — it is simply that every time commendations and awards are evaluated, he waves his hand: "Give it to the young ones. They need it more than I do." Some say he is foolish; he answers: "If I'd come here for the sake of citations, I never would have come to this mountain gully in the first place." In Liu Huibo's eyes, the growth of his comrades matters more than his own honors, and the progress of the team is worth more than personal gain.

From veteran Li Dehou carefully wrapping pine needles in a handkerchief, to Wang Qingwei voluntarily repainting the characters on the boulder, to Private Du Zexuan solemnly putting away his badge — I found that the emotions of these officers and soldiers are concrete and deep. They love the "Unity Tree" and the "Cohesion Tree," they love the boulder engraved with "home," and they love this home encircled by mountains. Their actions stem not from anyone's requirement, but from an emotional investment that comes from the heart.

In these officers and soldiers, I saw the most genuine and pure image of what a soldier is: regardless of where they are stationed, regardless of personal gain or loss, caring only about how much they have given to their comrades and what contribution they have made to combat effectiveness (战斗力). Generation after generation of officers and soldiers have driven their roots into the mountain rock and pledged their hearts to the sea. Their struggle and their dreams are written on their posts, written in the deep-blue wake of warships.

When the interview ended and I was leaving the garrison, I turned for one last look at those two vivid green pines. The mountain wind passed through, and the pine needles rustled softly. The officers and soldiers here are like the needles on those trees — seemingly small and ordinary, yet full of life's tenacity. Gathered together, they stand vigorous and evergreen, upright in wind and character.