今天,我以一名军人的目光穿越历史时空,去眺望一支军队在血与火的考验中突进,去感受一种力量在生与死的洗礼中凝聚。在村口的老槐树下,老人们抽着旱烟,摇着蒲扉,用复杂的心情去回忆他们不曾忘怀的长征故事。老人们的故事没有章法,多是碎片。“队伍过了三天,穿着草鞋和血衣,以为这样的队伍不经打,哪想硬是在光华峪打了两天两夜。”一个老人不解地说。“那一仗打下来．从山顶红到山脚,全是血,踩下去连脚都拔不起。”另一个老人仿佛看到惨淡的血腥,声音因惊悸而颤抖。“仗打过了,民团跑来杀红军,坡 Today, with the eyes of a soldier, I look through time and space to see an army march in the test of blood and fire to feel a force that has gathered in the baptism of life and death. Under the old acacia trees in the village entrance, the old people pumped the dried tobacco and rocked their branches to recall the long march stories they had never forgotten with complicated feelings. The story of the elderly no rules, mostly fragmented. “The team had spent three days wearing straw sandals and blood-suits, thinking that such a team would not fight, and that it would be hard to fight in Guanghua Valley for two days and two nights.” An old man puzzled. “That battle lay down from the top of the mountain red to the foot of the mountain, all blood, can not pull even the feet can not pull up.” Another old man seemed to see the bleak bloody voice shudder and trembling. Battle hit, the militia came to kill the Red Army, slope