My White Moonlight to Resist US Aggression and Aid Korea Is Waiting for Me to Come Home

In the winter of 1951, the ice of the Yalu River cracked into knife marks. I joined the army with half a bag of fried noodles from my mother, and only two things were on my mind: killing the enemy and meeting Awan. Ah Wan is a barefoot doctor from a neighboring village. He can treat knife wounds with herbal medicine. When I was snatched for food rations by the village bully, he would hold a sickle in front of me to protect me: "Yan Zhu, when you have made a meritorious service, I will sew a purse with a military medal for you." But when we got to the front line, I found out that she had actually become a field nurse without telling me, and followed the stretcher team at the front of the artillery fire. Some people gossiped: "A country bumpkin is not worthy of a cadre's lovely lady. She comes to the front line to be gilded!" I clenched my fists and smashed them into the trench, and frozen soil splashed all over my face - I wanted to perform a meritorious service, to silence everyone, and to take her home alive. In the tunnel at Shangganling, shrapnel cut off half of my scalp. I gritted my teeth to answer the phone line, and my ears were filled with Awan's voice. She braved the hail of bullets to deliver the medicine. Seeing my head wrapped in a bandage, tears fell on the back of my hands: "Yan Zhu, don't die, I haven't sewed your purse for you yet." I put the bloody bullet casing into her hand: "Wait for me. After this battle, we can go to Peking to take a group photo." But the enemy's artillery fire was too fierce. In order to save the wounded, she fell on the hillside a hundred meters away from me, still holding an unfinished red cloth purse in her hand. The soldiers who were mocking me were all dumbfounded. I hugged her cold body and my eyes turned red: "Awan is right, I am a country bumpkin, but I dare to protect my family with my life. Do you dare?" Later, I led my comrades in blowing up the enemy's arsenal and achieved second-class merit. I wore a military medal on my chest, but I could never wait for the girl who sewed purses. After the armistice, I returned to the village, hung my purse in the main room, and planted wintersweets on her grave...