Qingming Festival students pay homage to the tombs of martyrs
Thousands of people mourned the heroic souls
——Recall the Qingming Festival in 1946
Author | Ju Tong Ai
The fourteenth day of the third lunar month in 1946 was the first Qingming Festival after the liberation of Panyang. On that day, the sky was overcast, and the drizzle drifted into the green fields and sprinkled the hills.
Through the hazy rain, located on the earth cliff behind the east martyrs' cemetery in Nanboya Village, Xinzhai Street, the waterfall-like spring flower branches are decorated with a golden barrier, swaying in the breeze, as if crying and mourning. The tall woolly poplars in front of the tomb stand tall, symbolizing the dedication of "the heroes are gone and never returned".
In the open space in front of the martyr's tomb, the red flag is displayed, the gongs and drums are noisy, and the majestic "March of the Volunteer Army" reverberates above. On the front side were the children's regiment members lined up in neat rows and armed with red tassels; on the east side were cadres from various localities; on the west side were workers who had just arrived from the factories; and on the outer side were surrounded by peasant friends from the four townships. There were men and women in the crowd, old and young. Some of them held flowers in their hands, some had wreaths in their hands, some held their hands, and the crowd of black pressures surrounded the tomb of the martyrs, and even the high earth cliffs were surrounded by three layers inside and three layers outside.
The most eye-catching is the 12 large food boxes in front of the tomb. A group of peasants wearing green cloth scarves around their waists and old felt hats opened the food box and took out dishes and plates from them to serve fruits, snacks, meat, fish and water wine, and the old lady in the village brought steaming dumplings. They offered food to the tombs of martyrs as they did to their deceased relatives. The martyrs were then burned with incense, paper, wine, and prostrations. While worshipping, these people wept with a handful of snot and tears about the crimes of the Japanese invaders: some of their relatives were buried alive, some were beheaded, some daughters-in-law were raped, and some young grandchildren were thrown into the fire and burned alive... The words were bloody and the sound of tears made the people present seem to see bloody corpses, tired of white bones, as if they heard the cries of children, the cries of women, and the groans of unjust souls.
Next is an old senior, telling people about the moving deeds of 9 martyrs who sacrificed their lives to the revolution and sacrificed their bodies in Panyang in those bloody and rainy years. At a time when the Chinese nation was facing the danger of life and death, these amiable and respectable warriors threw away everything about their families and individuals, did not hesitate to stand up, fought a deadly struggle against the Japanese imperialist aggressors, won the liberation of Panyang with their flesh and blood, and gave the peace and tranquility exchanged for blood to everyone in this land.
The moving stories of the heroes and martyrs, one after another, which can be sung and wept, shook everyone's heart. Everyone seemed to see the fierce battle moment in which the commanders and fighters of the Eighth Route Army braved gun smoke and artillery fire, crossed trenches, crossed walls, and bombed artillery towers, engaged the short soldiers of the Japanese puppet army, and broke their arms and folded their strands, and desperately moved forward; it was as if they saw the scene of the masses from all walks of life organizing themselves one after another to give up, carry ammunition boxes, carry stretchers, and take prisoners to support the army in winning the battle.
At this time, a student representative came to the foreground and spoke passionately: In the past, the people suffered from the cruel atrocities of the invaders, and the blood stained the rivers, which was a tragedy caused by backwardness. Bloody history cannot be forgotten, we are determined to step on the blood of the martyrs and use our own enthusiasm to create a brilliant tomorrow! Suddenly, the crowd erupted in warm applause.
The drizzle was still drifting, and through the crystalline water droplets, bouquets of flowers fluttered in the wind in front of the martyrs' tombs. The people who came to mourn the martyrs did not want to leave for a long time.
Ju Tong Ai, a retired teacher in Xinzhai Street, usually likes to write.