Fragments of childhood memories

I remember the first day of school, wearing a sorghum-colored long cloth shirt on the upper body, dark blue open crotch pants on the lower body, a Chairman Mao portrait stamp hanging on the chest, and a green and red book bag on the shoulder of the army, which contained a copy of Chairman Mao's quotations, and I didn't know a single word in the book. The school is a large thatched hut with earthen walls, the podium is made of earthen fortifications, and an old door panel stands on the podium as a blackboard. There are about thirty students in the school, and from the first grade to the fifth grade, they are held in the only classroom in the school. The school has two teachers, one female teacher is public, young and beautiful. A male teacher was an old gentleman arranged by the brigade, with a long beard and a slight hunchback. I remember that after going to the school for a walk, I was pulled by the female teacher to the next door of the school and washed my face with the water that the old lady washed my clothes. As soon as the male teacher whistled, the whole school gathered in the playground. The male teacher beats with his hand, the female teacher leads the singing of the Oriental Red song, and five or six of us in the first grade can't sing, so we follow the teacher and hum. On the first day of class, I don't remember anything. I just remember that after one semester, everyone in a year can go from one to a hundred, and they can write. This was the enlightenment in the fragments of my hazy childhood memories.