The old man's salute made the eyes of these soldiers, who had been separated from him for half a century, wet with tears.
Chen Chengwu almost subconsciously straightened his body. Using the most standard military posture and salute, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Senior, Chen Chengwu of the People's Liberation Army of Yun Province of Hua Xia salutes you!"
Hearing Chen Chengwu's roar, the other soldiers put down the equipment and supplies in their hands, stood at attention with red eyes, saluted, and saluted the old man loudly.
This scene instantly moved Li Mu, Liu Xinying, and the others who accompanied him to tears. Two lines of hot tears also gushed out of the old man's wrinkled eyes.
At this moment, the old man abandoned the local dialect he had spoken for decades and said in standard Mandarin, "National Revolutionary Army, Air Force, Sixth Brigade, Major Pilot, Sun Xiaozhong, thank you … thank you …"
For the old man, due to many special historical reasons, his identity as a soldier had been buried in his heart for more than half a century. He hoped that one day the society would remember his identity as a soldier and recognize his contributions instead of crying alone. However, after so many years, he became more and more aware that this wish was actually an extravagant hope. After half a century of trials and tribulations, this country had gone through countless changes. It was more and more unlikely that his deeds would be remembered by people. He was afraid that his identity could only be carried into the soil by himself.
It was not until a few days ago, when several young people who claimed to be volunteers went into the mountains and inquired about his name in the village that he realized that his deeds had not been completely forgotten by society. There was still a very small group of people who found his name in the records of local governments in various places by looking up the information of the Flying Tigers and finding his name step by step. Step by step, they found Baofu Village.
The volunteers brought him some pastries and gifts, and also gave him 2,000 yuan. The old man had only touched a hundred yuan bill a few times in his life, and seeing so much money, he was so scared that his hands trembled. The thickest coffin that he had dreamed of, which was made by a carpenter from the neighboring village, was only sold for 1,000 yuan.
However, the old man did not take the money because he had already obtained more wealth than this money. Because there were still people who remembered him, knew who he was, and knew what he had done.
The people in Baofu Village had been living with the old man for decades, but they did not know what the old man did. They only called him Old Man Sun because his name, Sun Xiaozhong, sounded too scholarly. The people in the mountains could not understand it, and they were not used to it. Therefore, the way they addressed each other was mostly "surname" + "A" + "brother", "sister-in-law", "uncle", and so on. Compared with the old man's name, which had a strong flavor of the Republic of China, the villagers' names were much more down-to-earth.
In the eyes of the villagers in Baofu Village, the old man was an old bachelor. Since the day he entered the mountains, he had been a bachelor. In the words of the elders in the village, the year the old man came to the mountains, he was like a defeated rooster or a stray dog. He came to Baofu Village in ragged clothes and begged the villagers to give him a place to settle down. Although the land in Baofu Village was worthless, the closed villages generally did not like outsiders entering. Moreover, the old man's local language was not very standard at that time. However, for some reason, the old village head agreed to his request and told him that no one lived on the small soil slope at the east of the village. If he wanted to settle down, he could go there and build a thatched hut.
Therefore, the old man silently built a thatched hut by himself. Then, he found a mountain field far away from the mountains that no one was willing to cultivate. He took two acres of land and planted crops. After that, he finally settled down in Baofu Village. He stayed there for more than 30 years.
For more than 30 years, the old man was the most pitiful Old Sun in the eyes of the villagers. People always used him to teach the children that if they were disobedient, Old Sun would catch them and eat them. If they didn't work hard, they would be like Old Sun and couldn't find a wife in the future. If they couldn't find a wife, they would be like Old Sun and have no one to take care of them when they died.
When these rumors gradually spread, the old man had become a demon in the eyes of the children in the village. Many children screamed and ran away when they saw him. Some brave children would pick up a lump of soil and nervously throw it at the old man. Then, regardless of whether it hit the old man or not, they would turn around and run away screaming. Their parents rarely cared about them because they felt that the old man had been endlessly blessed by the village for all these years. This little thing was far from enough for him to repay the villagers and the kindness they had shown him.
The old man never cared about it. He never got angry. Whether it was the children's fear and teasing, or the villagers' mockery and sympathy, he never got angry or sad. He always held his proud head high in his heart. Even when his body was bent, he didn't shed a single tear for decades.
He always comforted himself like this. When he flew a plane to fight the Japanese, every time he took off, he had the determination and courage to die. With the continuous take-off and landing of fighter jets, his spirit had long been honed into an iron tree that would never wither or fall. This iron tree had stood for decades, withstood the attacks of the Japanese fighter jets, and had undergone the baptism of historical catastrophe. Now, these were not even comparable to ants gnawing on it.
It was such a strong old man, but now, in the face of these soldiers of the People's Liberation Army, he couldn't help but burst into tears in an instant.
Unlike the recognition of the volunteers a few days ago, these people in military uniforms were active duty soldiers. Their recognition made the old man feel gratified and moved.
For many years, the national army pilot named Sun Xiaozhong, who had once guarded the southwest with the American Flying Tigers, had never felt excitement again. After his wife and children disappeared, his life was like a pool of stagnant water, without the slightest ripple. It was so quiet that it was terrible. At this moment, the pool of water was completely boiling.
The scene of more than a dozen active duty soldiers and the old man saluting each other was still for a few minutes. Fortunately, there were two cameras that had not stopped shooting since the moment they entered the mountain. The cameraman hoped to capture the hardships of the mountainous area along the way. It was precisely because of this that they were lucky enough to capture such a completely unintentional and heartfelt image.
At this time, the old man was the first to break the stagnant scene. He said with a chagrined expression, "I should have invited you into my house, but the house is too small and shabby. There's no place to stand..."
Chen Chengwu wiped his tears and said, "Senior, we won't go in, but they..."
As Chen Chengwu spoke, he turned around and pointed at the two cameramen carrying the cameras, as well as Li Mu and Liu Xinying. He said to the old man, "They are from Yan Jing. They want to interview you and report your story so that more people can know the story of you and the other veterans of the Anti-Japanese War."
The old man nodded gently and said, "The few young people who came before have already told me. You can tell me how you want to interview them. I will cooperate, but..."
At this point, the old man hesitated for a moment and pleaded, "But can you record a video for me and broadcast it? I want to find my wife and children. If they are still alive, they might have a chance to see it."
Liu Xinying hurriedly stepped forward and said to the old man, "Senior, if you have anything to say, you can say it to the camera. We promise to broadcast the video to the people of the country. Not only to see it, but also to let them know the great contribution you and the other veterans have made to this nation."
The old man hurriedly waved his hand. "I don't deserve it. It's not a contribution. It's our duty. The rise and fall of the country is everyone's responsibility. It's not a credit, it's an obligation!"
The village chief was stunned and didn't speak for a long time. Suddenly, he said something with a shocked expression.
The old man coughed with a smile and said a few words in a dialect that no one could understand.
The guide told everyone that the old village chief's words were because he was surprised that Senior Sun could speak Mandarin.
Mandarin was what the locals called Mandarin. Many people could understand it, but they couldn't speak it. There were also many elderly people who couldn't understand it. Almost none of the local villagers as old as Senior Sun could speak Mandarin, so when he started to speak Mandarin, the village chief was as surprised as if a villager in his village had suddenly become fluent in a foreign language.
The old man's answer was, "Actually, I'm not from this province. I've spoken Mandarin since I was young. It was only after I came to Yun Province in 37 years that I learned the local language bit by bit."
The village chief was shocked beyond belief. It was as if his entire life and worldview had been turned upside down.
They didn't have the energy to pay attention to the stunned old village chief. Li Mu, Liu Xinying, and the cameraman followed the old man into his thatched hut.
After entering, everyone truly realized what hardship was. The impact of reality was countless times more real than the pictures the volunteers had sent back. Looking down, there was dirt, and looking up, there was half a white sky. Yun Province was located on a plateau, so the clouds looked much closer than in the plains. That kind of scenery was originally very beautiful, but seeing the white clouds from the roof made people feel sad.
The old man didn't have any decent clothes. He only had a set of Chinese tunic suit that had been worn for who knew how many years and had been patched countless times. The old man took off the tattered cotton-padded clothes and put on the clean Chinese tunic suit. He then sat on the bed he built on the mud bricks. He took a small metal box from the bedside and took out a medal in the shape of an eagle wing. He then carefully hung it on his chest. Looking down at the medal, the old man sighed and said, "I haven't worn it for decades. When I was criticized, I was afraid that it would be taken away, so I hid it in a swallow's nest and brought it up the mountain. This is the first time I've worn it in so many years."
An accompanying female reporter hurriedly squatted in front of him and asked, "Senior, can you tell us the origin of this medal?"
The two cameramen also knelt on one knee and took pictures of the old man and the medal from below. Li Mu hurriedly pulled Liu Xinying to sit cross-legged on the ground. In this shabby thatched hut, the old man should be the tallest person.
The old man's mouth was bubbling with saliva. His lips moved for a long time before he finally said, "This is the Star Order Medal. After the start of the war, the national government specially set up a medal for the national air force pilots. There are ten levels from 1 to 10 stars. According to the rules of the national government at that time, only pilots who had shot down enemy planes were qualified to receive the medal. Shooting down one enemy plane would be awarded a Star Order Medal. Shooting down two enemy planes would be awarded a Star Order Medal.
Shooting down two enemy planes would be awarded another Star Order Medal. "Li Mu carefully looked at the medal on the old man's chest. In the center of a pair of golden eagle wings, there was a star in the middle of a white circle. Above, below, left, and right, there were a total of four stars.
The old man stroked his medal and said softly with emotion, "Actually, I only shot down three Japanese planes. The fourth one was shot down by one of my wingmen at the time. He died in that air battle, and the commanding officer awarded him a Precious Cauldron Medal posthumously. Then he gave me the credit for the downed fighter, as well as the other wingman's credit. I became a four-star fighter, and the other wingman's credit went from one star to two stars."
The young female reporter said shamefully, "I'm sorry, senior. I don't quite understand what you mean by a wingman. Can you explain it to us?"
The old man let out a long breath and came back to his senses from his heavy thoughts. He said, "At that time, planes were used in formation tactics. They were divided into the captain and the wingmen. The captain was the commanding officer of the formation. When they took to the air to fight, the wingmen unconditionally carried out all the orders of the captain. At that time, the national government used a formation of one captain and two wingmen.
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