The forgotten red belt

Brief introduction：

The book is presented in a documentary style and most of the stories in the book are true. Unlike the usual majestic and tragic style of military-themed literature， this book starts with small incidents and characters， telling the real lives of more than ten soldiers guarding the island. The author’s perspective is unique， like a clear stream of water， and the characters are well-drawn. The grassroots， real-life perspective of life on Xisha is a great example of how human beings are refined， and allows the readers to feel the dedication of the island guards and their determination to defend the country’s maritime borders.

About the author：

Chen Yan joined the army in 1969 and served as a soldier， platoon leader， instructor， political office director， lecturer， associate professor， divisional political department director， divisional political commissar， deputy political committee member of Naval Engineering University and deputy director of the Political Department of the South China Sea Fleet， with the rank of major general. He entered the Economic Department of Hebei University in 1977 and earned a doctorate in defence economics in China in 1999. He was stationed in Xisha and other islands in the South China Sea for 10 years and was the political commissar of the fifth naval escort formation in the Gulf of Aden. He is the excellent command officer of the whole army， representative of the 10th National People’s Congress， member of the China Photographers Association and the China Press Photographers Association.

The Chinese New Year is still ten days away and the camp is already decorated with lights and decorations， but a piece of news is spreading among the army wives – Submarine 04 has not contacted the base twice as promised.

The news was not confirmed to be true， and there was no way to find out. The wives were anxious. When meeting on the road， they greeted each other more warmly than usual， but paid closer attention to each other’s expressions. Every morning， the families in the building would probe to see if Li， a family member of the Chief of Operations， was still practicing yoga in the coconut grove. She was still practicing， but her expression didn’t seem as relaxed as it used to be.

After dinner， the commander and political commissar’s customary habits continued as well， only the walks were shorter than usual.

As the Chinese New Year approached， the political commissar took his comrades from the authorities from door to door to deliver New Year’s Eve goods to the families of Submarine 04. He still talked and laughed and even spoke without the slightest sign of any difference. This helped to slightly calm the anxious family members.

Sister Song didn’t dare to tell Meng Tao about this， for fear she wouldn’t be able to bear it. It was only on the morning of New Year’s Eve that she informed Meng Tao there would be good news in the evening and to go to the square early.

The cool evening breeze surged into the hot square， making it a little more pleasant for them. A few of the agency’s orderlies were in the square setting up the fireworks for the evening. Whenever a military vehicle would come speeding by and one or two officers would jump out and rush into the building， or a soldier would run out of the building and head towards the pier， the wives would still stand up in unison， hundreds of pairs of eyes looking anxiously and exchanging glances. Some of them， unable to hold it in， would go to the entrance of the building and make a small circle， wanting to approach the sentry and ask him， but not daring to， and then return to the same place， their eyes never leaving that first-floor window. They would cautiously and carefully say， “Is the commander in there？” “It seems that the political commissar has come early.” “The Chief of Operations is afraid he hasn’t come out for the whole day， where is Xiao Li？” Everyone then went to find the chief of operations’ wife， Xiao Li.

The kids didn’t understand the mood of the adults and were shouting madly. One of the kids was holding a model of a warship and shouted in a shrill voice， “You can’t be a scoundrel， and you’ve been sunk by me ... ” Before the words left his mouth， she saw Sister Song pull her son Xiao Feng out of the pile of kids and kicked him in the buttocks： “Don’t talk nonsense！ You doomsayer！” Nine-year-old Feng cried out， “I didn’t talk nonsense ...” “How dare you？” She slapped Feng across the face.

The military wives came forward to pull Sister Song away. Of course， Meng Tao knew why Xiao Feng had been beaten. The navy has a taboo： you can’t say “turn over” the fish， you can only say “flip” over，" and you can’t say things like “sunken”， “in the water” or “under a lot of pressure”.

Xiao Feng was beaten by Sister Song and fled in all directions， eventually hiding in Meng Tao’s place. Sister Song was heavily pregnant so she couldn’t catch up with the boy， and when she got a little closer， Feng jumped away like a monkey. She sat down next to Meng Tao and said， “Don’t worry， my red belt is definitely secure ...” Nearly two months of suffering， Meng Tao’s nerves were at an all time high， and Song’s words immediately scared her. She had never told Sister Song the truth; she didn’t dare.

“Tao， do you know what is the one thing that I’ll regret until the day I die？” Sister Song’s eyes turned red， “I’ve been holding it in all these years， and I’ve never told anyone about it. I forgot to tie the red belt for Xiao Feng’s father before he had his accident. How could I forget？ Everything was ready for his birth year， except that day he left in a hurry. I forgot， forgot ... I was so forgetful ... How can I forget such a big thing？！” Sister Song held back sobs， hurriedly wiping away tears and snot with the back of her hand， “I never say anything， always thinking that it was my fault that Xiao Feng’s dad and his fellows met their misfortune ...”

Once Sister Song gave away her secret， a beam of electricity once again struck directly at Meng Tao’s body. Her hand touched the red belt in her pocket and immediately， terror once again gripped her heart like a black net that was tightening minute by minute. She held the red belt in her pocket and asked herself to recite a hundred times in her mind that Leng Fan was safe， Deputy Chief Mao was safe， Submarine 04 was safe， and that anyone else was safe！

The sun moved onto Meng Tao’s body， burning her skin. She subconsciously moved towards the shade， thought about it， and then regained her original position. “I’m going to stay with Leng Fan in the sun，” she thought to herself. “Is Leng Fan painting the sun at this moment？” Leng Fan could sing all their men’s favourite songs. One of them， Painting the Sun， was her favourite：

Draw a sun and hang it above the bed

Hang it above the bed

Whenever you have time， take a look at it

Take a look at it

I can’t tell day from night when I’m diving

underwater

I don’t know if the sun is

In the east or in the west

The girl with the umbrella

Loves to walk under the sun

Wanting to see the sun

It’s a submariner’s thirst， the day he vows to return

Lying and sunbathing

For three whole weeks

For three whole weeks

As she sang the song to herself， Meng Tao became

more and more relieved. This time when Leng Fan came back， I would drag him to go sunbathing， to the beach in the tourist area， rent a beach chair， no， tie a hammock， tethered between two coconut trees， and I would squeeze in next to him ... The time on the gate read 19：30.

In the lounge by the combat duty room， the commander was playing with a few people in a game of cards. The commander’s card skills were top-notch， and if he is paired with a good partner， he would often whistle with joy to intimidate his opponents. Today， his partner was the deputy chief of staff， also a first-class player. He felt that the commander was not right today， always distracted by a series of bad cards， and on a few occasions， the commander’s hand trembled slightly when he hesitated to hold the cards. He wasn’t as loud as usual when complaining about his opponents because， as expected， he was also anxiously waiting for that moment.

All the movements of Submarine 04 boat were top secret. The two unsuccessful contacts were indeed worrying. Although an old submariner knows this is a common occurrence and the communications department has explained that there were some problems with the signal that day， so there were multiple reasons for such a loss of contact. This evening would be decisive. The agreed contact time had never been a secret， but today it had to be announced to the families， because it was New Year’s Eve and they had to have a good festival， so the news could not be kept from them. Having been a submariner all his life， he knew these women best， and how they suffered！

The political commissar， the deputy commander， the deputy political commissar and the chief of staff all sat in a group in front of the big screen in the shift hall， doing nothing but staring at the red clock that was above the big screen. In fact， there is no need for the big screen today， the only thing coming from the bottom of the sea is the telegraph code， and there will be no graphics and no sound. But they sat there and were grounded. Every morning， the operations staff officer would report in detail on everything but the specifics of Submarine 04.

For more than a month， Submarine 04 was like an invisible rope， firmly pulling every nerve in their hearts. What they wanted to hear most every day is that Submarine 04 is in normal condition. Today was a very important day， following two unsuccessful attempts to contact them， and given it’s New Year’s Eve …

With five minutes to go， the women in the square began to gather at the gate. The sentry didn’t berate them， but confined them to a manageable position with a stern gaze.

The commander leaned back and shook off a good hand of cards to run to the shift hall. With him poured in all the agency personnel on or off duty， forty or fifty of them. They all waited upright， counting the seconds. It was 20：00 and the air froze！ At 20：01， 20：02， 20：03 ... At 20：15， the small door next to the big screen was slammed open and the staff officer on duty burst in， holding up a telegram and shouting out the two words everyone had been waiting for：

“All Safe ?”

There was silence for only a moment， about half a second， before applause broke out like thunder.

The commander hugged the political commissar and spilled old tears， “Man， I can’t take it anymore. I want to retire early ...”

The political commissar said to all present， “Comrades， after a year of hard work， let’s have a good New Year！”

Applause broke out again.

“Commander， so many women are waiting.”

The two of them dried their tears and walked hand in hand to the ground floor and out the front door. Facing hundreds of military wives， the commander choked up and asked the political commissar to announce.

“All military wives and children，” the political commissar announced loudly as they held their breath and listened， “All Safe ?”

At once， the women cried in unison， filling the square with their voices. The cries， which were either harsh or brash， low or sorrowful， relieved or sighing， caused all the windows in the office building to open at the same time， and the officers who saw the scene and rushed to wipe the tears from their faces. The children， frightened， saw the adults crying and followed suit， bawling at the sky. The pigeons， which had been resting， were startled and rose to the sky.

Meng Tao wrapped her hands around Sister Song’s and cried like a baby， thinking that no matter how happy she was， she could not tell her about the red belt.

The two sentries were saddened by the cries of the women， but they did not dare to move. Their middle fingers pressed against the seams of their trousers， standing straight up， letting their tears wet their chest uniforms.

At that moment， the sky was filled with fireworks.

The Hundredth Dawn：

My Life on Xisha Islands

Chen Yan

Shandong Pictorial Publishing House

June 2019

48.00 （CNY）