Toward the Centenary · Military Journalists at the Frontier | May: Threading Through the Sweltering, Treacherous Dense Forest
Reporter's Notes In May, the southwestern frontier is humid, stifling, and lush green in every direction. The dense forests of the Ailao Mountains layer upon layer, branches and vines intertwined, vegetation sprawling in every direction; the cries of cicadas weave together with the sound of wind, and mist drifts through the mountain passes.
At dawn, I followed the patrol detachment of the Shili Village Border Defense Company, a certain brigade of the Southern Theater Command Army, as it advanced toward Border Marker No. 72. It was my first time setting foot on this border patrol route. Before departure, officers and soldiers donned their gear and formed up in neat ranks. At a single command from Company Commander Du Jiqilin, the search element, command element, and reserve element moved as one. Watching their swift and decisive bearing, I felt a deepening sense of awe at the trek ahead.
The patrol vehicles wound their way along a serpentine mountain road; once they reached the foot of the mountain, there was no road left. The remainder of the patrol had to be completed entirely on foot through primeval dense forest.
Thick vines spread unchecked and blocked the way ahead; rain-carved paths varied in depth and were muddy and slippery; rushing streams invariably lay across the route; unidentified snakes and insects startled us at every turn — the dense forest was fraught with danger at every step. Throughout the hours-long trek, the sound of labored breathing, the steady beat of footsteps, and the warnings called out between comrades echoed through the deep mountain forest.
This border patrol route is a dual test of the officers' and soldiers' physical endurance and willpower. Every step forward requires them to contend with hidden dangers.
As the point man of the formation, Squad Leader Yang Guangkai kept his eyes fixed on the state of the march the entire way, reminding the new recruits behind him to watch their footing on the slippery ground, stay alert to surrounding hazards, and maintain proper spacing in the column.
Amid the perilous mountain forest, there is one ordinary fruit tree — his and his wife's love tree.
During a patrol several years ago, Squad Leader Yang happened upon a young woman who had come into the mountains to pick fruit and had accidentally sprained her ankle. One act of assistance planted the seed of a bond. With the dense forest as matchmaker and the mountains and rivers as witness, an encounter on the patrol route grew into mutual understanding and then into a life together, adding a touch of human warmth to the years of frontier duty and making the solitary vigil at the deep-mountain border post no longer lonely.
Among the patrol party, Fan Dingxin — a new recruit who had enlisted just six months earlier — was the youngest soldier on this patrol route. Traveling more than 2,200 kilometers from Henan to Yunnan, he resolutely answered the call of the frontier. When asked about his original motivation, the young man's gaze was clear and resolute.
Fan Dingxin's father is a veteran. Raised from childhood under his father's influence, he loved military life and longed for the uniform. After enlisting, he has always kept his father's admonition in mind: "Talk less, do more; fear no hardship; be willing to take the short end." In his heart, the hard places and the exhausting places are precisely the good places to build merit and accomplish something.
After hours of trekking, we finally reached Border Marker No. 72. All officers and soldiers formed up and stood at solemn attention, facing the national flag and taking a grave oath. "The border has me here — the motherland and the people may rest assured…"
The oath rang out with resounding force, echoing through the forested mountains and rivers. The wilderness speaks not, yet the mountains and rivers bear witness: generation after generation of border defense officers and soldiers, using youth as their brush and steadfast duty as their ink, continue to write their answer of loyalty along the motherland's border line.
"The mountains know me, the rivers know me; the motherland will not forget, will not forget me…" As dusk gradually fell, the last rays of the setting sun gilded the rolling peaks with a golden edge, and the officers and soldiers set out on the return journey, singing aloud. I walked in the middle of the patrol column, listening to the hoarse yet powerful singing of the soldiers around me, gazing at the silent mountains and dense forest in the gathering dusk, and found myself softly humming along. As I hummed, a pang rose at the tip of my nose, and tears welled in my eyes.
Though not many people know their names, and not many have seen their young faces, they are here nonetheless. In this sweltering dense forest, on this lonely frontier, they walk and stand watch day after day — so that we may live in peace and sleep soundly.
There is no such thing as a tranquil and blessed life that simply exists on its own; it only exists because someone is carrying the burden on our behalf (哪有什么岁月静好，不过是有人替我们负重前行).
On the gentle slope beside the guard post stands a border-defense sculpture, built by veteran soldiers for the company. On its weathered stone base are engraved the names of generation after generation of officers and soldiers. Beside the sculpture, bougainvillea blooms in the wind —
Its symbolic meaning is "indomitable perseverance, passionate sincerity, and silent watchfulness (坚韧不拔、热情赤诚、默默守望)" — precisely like these frontier sentinels rooted in the southwestern borderland, who neither fear the humid heat and barren conditions nor shrink from the perils of the deep mountains, who answer their mission with their lives and guard the mountains and rivers with their hearts, silently blooming a flower of loyalty along the border line.
During my days with the Shili Village Border Defense Company, I was with the officers and soldiers morning and night — eating together, living together, training together, finding joy together — immersed in the daily life of frontier duty. Their eyes are clear and pure; their hearts are sincere and burning with passion… These plain-spoken and fearless sons and daughters of the people use their steadfast watch to fortify the gateway of the nation, and use their devotion to guard the lights of ten thousand homes. They are, without question, the most beloved people (最可爱的人) of the new era.
This May, threading through the sweltering, treacherous dense forest of the frontier, I encountered the most unspoiled youth, the most moving steadfastness, and the most fervent love of country and home (家国情怀).
Planning: Liu Gang, Li Lihan
Supervising Producer: Long Wenzhi, He Fanglin
Coordination: Yang Mingbo, Ma Pengyuan, Yao Chengbo
Reporters: Han Qiyang, Wang Hui
Directors: Wang Hui, Han Qiyang
Script: Han Qiyang, Wang Hui
Camera: Han Qiyang, Liang Tong, Luo Xiansheng
Editing: Luo Xiansheng, Liang Tong
Post-production: Wang Hui, Luo Xiansheng
Design: Liang Tong
Coordination: Qin Qingfan, Zhang Fukang, Cao Jike, Liu Xuanwei
Acknowledgments
Southern Theater Command Army
People's Liberation Army Unit 31640