2007年1月

Today I reviewed the movie We Were Soldiers.I respect them in no doubt.The movie based on novell .Right now I paste some paragraphes below.Enjoy Yourself!

“This story is about time and memories. The time was 1965, a different kind of year, a watershed year when one era was ending in America and another was beginning. We felt it then, in the many ways our lives changed so suddenly, so dramatically, and looking back on it from a quarter-century gone we are left in no doubt. It was the year America decided to directly intervene in the Byzantine affairs of obscure and distant South Vietnam. It was the year we went to war. In the broad, traditional sense, that “we” who went to war was all of us, all Americans, though in truth at that time the larger majority had little knowledge, less interest and no great concern with what was beginning so far away.

So this story is about the smaller, more tightly focused “we” of that sentence, the first American combat troops who boarded World War II-era troop ships, sailed to that little known place and fought the first major battle of a conflict that would drag on for ten long years and come as near to destroying America as it did to destroying Vietnam.

The Ia Drang Campaign was to the Vietnam War what the terrible Spanish Civil War of the 1930’s was to World War II—a dress rehearsal. The place where new tactics, techniques and weapons were tested, perfected and validated. In the Ia Drang, both sides claimed victory and both sides drew lessons, some of them dangerously deceptive, which echoed and resonated throughout the decade of bloody fighting and bitter sacrifice that was to come.

This is about what we did, what we saw, what we suffered in a 34-day campaign in the remote Ia Drang Valley of the Central Highlands of South Vietnam in November, 1965, when we were young and confident and patriotic and our countrymen knew little and cared less about our sacrifices.

Another war story, you say? Not exactly, for on the more important levels this is a love story, told in our own words and by our own actions. We were the children of the 1950’s and we went where we were sent because we loved our country. We were draftees, most of us, but we were proud of the opportunity to serve that country just as ou* thers had served in World War II and our older brothers in Korea. We were members of an elite, experimental combat division trained in the new art of airmobile wa*re at the behest of President John F. Kennedy.

Just before we shipped out to Vietnam the Army handed us the colors of the historic 1st Cavalry Division and we all proudly sewed on the big yellow and black shoulder patches with the horse head silhouette. We went to war because our country asked us to go, because our new President, Lyndon B. Johnson, ordered us to go, but more importantly because we saw it as our duty to go. That is one kind of love.

Another and far more transcendent love came to us unbidden on the battlefields as it does on every battlefield in every war man has ever fought. We discovered in that depressing, hellish place where death was our constant companion that we loved each other. We killed for each other, we died for each other and we wept for each other. And in time we came to love each other as brothers. In battle our world shrank to the man on our left and the man on our right and the enemy all around. We held each other’s lives in our hands and we learned to share our fears, our hopes, our dreams as readily as we shared what little else good came our way.

We were the children of the 1950’s and John F. Kennedy’s young stalwarts of the early 1960’s. He told the world that Americans would go anywhere, pay any price, bear any burden in the defense of *. We were the down payment on that costly contract, but the man who signed it was not there when we fulfilled his promise. John F. Kennedy waited for us on a hill in Arlington National Cemetery, and in time, by the thousands, we came to fill those slopes with our white marble markers and to ask on the murmur of the wind if that was truly the future he had envisioned for us.

Among us were old veterans, grizzled sergeants who had fought in Europe and the Pacific in World War II and had survived the frozen hell of the Chosin Reservoir in Korea, and now were about to add another star to their Combat Infantryman’s Badge. There were Regular Army enlistees, young men from America’s small towns whose fathers told them they would learn discipline and become real men in the Army. There were other young men who chose the Army over an equal term in prison. Alternative sentencing, the judges call it now. But the majority were draftees, 19- and 20-year-old boys summoned from all across America to do their two years in green by their friendly local Selective Service Boards. The PFC’s soldiered for $99.37 a month; the Sergeants First Class for $343.50 a month.

Leading us were the sons of West Point and the young ROTC lieutenants from Rutgers and The Citadel and, yes, even Yale University who had heard Kennedy’s call and answered it. There were also the young enlisted men and NCO’s who passed through Officer Candidate School and emerged, newly minted, officers and gentlemen. All laughed nervously when confronted with the cold statistics that measured a second lieutenant’s combat life expectancy in minutes and seconds, not hours. Our second lieutenants were paid $241.20 per month.

The Class of 1965 came out of the old America, a nation which disappeared forever in the smoke that billowed off the jungle battlegrounds where we fought and bled. The country which sent us off to war was not there to welcome us home. It no longer existed. We answered the call of one President who was now dead; followed the orders of another who would be hounded from office, and haunted, by the war he mismanaged so badly.

Many of our countrymen came to hate the war we fought. Those who hated it the most—the professionally sensitive—were not, in the end, sensitive enough to differentiate between the war and the soldiers who had been ordered to fight it. They hated us as well, and we went to ground in the crossfire, as we had learned in the jungles.

In time our battles were forgotten, our sacrifices discounted and both our sanity and our suitability for life in polite progressive American society were publicly questioned. Our young-old faces, chiseled and gaunt from the fever and the heat and the sleepless nights, now stare back at us, lost and damned strangers, frozen in yellowing snapshots packed away in cardboard boxes with our medals and ribbons.

We rebuilt our lives, found jobs or professions, married, raised families and waited patiently for America to come to its senses. As the years passed we searched each other out and found that the half-remembered pride of service was shared by those who hadshared everything else with us. With them, and only with them, could we talk about what had really happened over there—what we had seen, what we had done, what we had survived.

We knew what Vietnam had been like, and how we looked and acted and talked and smelled. No one in America did. Hollywood got it wrong every damned time, whetting twisted political knives on the bones of our dead brothers.

So once, just this once, this is how it all began, what it was really like, what it meant to us and what we meant to each other. It was no movie. When it was over the dead did not get up and dust themselves off and walk away. The wounded did not wash away the red and go on with life unhurt. Those who were, miraculously, unscratched were by no means untouched. Not one of us left Vietnam the same young man he was when he arrived.

This story, then, is our testament, and our tribute to 234 young Americans who died beside us during four days in Landing Zone X-Ray and Landing Zone Albany in the Valley of Death, 1965. That is more Americans than were killed in any regiment, north or south, at the Battle of Gettysburg, and far more than were killed in combat in the entire Persian Gulf War. Seventy more of our comrades died in the Ia Drang in desperate skirmishes before and after the big battles at X-Ray and Albany. All the names, 305 of them, are engraved on the third panel to the right of the apex, Panel 3-East, of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., and on our hearts. This is also the story of the suffering of families whose lives were forever shattered by the death of a father, a son, a husband, a brother in that Valley.

While those who have never known war may fail to see the logic, this story also stands as tribute to the hundreds of young men of the 320th, 33rd and 66th Regiments of the Peoples Army of Vietnam who died by our hand in that place. They, too, fought and died bravely. They were a worthy enemy. We who killed them pray that their bones were recovered from that wild, desolate place where we left them, and taken home for decent and honorable burial.

This is our story and theirs. For we were soldiers once, and young.”

这会真的好累,但是累过了很开心,很舒服的感觉。今天开了一天车,自拿到驾照后,第一次自己一个人开车。早上和爸爸,大伯开车去了皋兰,看望了我三姑奶,年纪大了,生病了,比较难。从皋兰回来后,把爸爸和大伯都送走后,一个人开车从白银路,到南滨河马路,然后到新港城,嘿嘿,是啊,把葡萄两口子叫上,这样我就不会有怕怕的感觉了。

第一次周末过东口十字,好多车,好多人,说不紧张那是假话,不过还好,没有发生什么意外事情,呵呵,没白练一年车啊。市区开车就是那样,走走停停,很讨厌,很麻烦,但很喜欢跑长途的感觉,在市区的时候,感觉自己精神高度集中,变道时要注意后车,跟前车不能太近,十字路口又要注意红灯,太刺激了,太过瘾了。呵呵。

今天自己开了200多公里吧,反正刚才放车的时候,我看了一下里程表,今天跑了280公里,除了葡萄开的路程,剩下的全是我造的。哈哈哈。开了一天车,真的大呼过瘾啊。

不过今天张倩同志向我反映,说我速度有点快,她害怕呢。呵呵。我有时候就不由自主的跑起来了,怪自己没有控制好自己的脚,呵呵,下次我一定注意,将速度控制一下。她今天摆弄我的手机的时候,把我手机的待机问候语改为”周涛爱自驾”,啊哈哈哈。突然发现开车真的很舒服啊,尤其是阳光明媚的时候,是一种特别舒服的感觉。

好了,这会真的很累,脖子,肩膀都向我抗议了,该休息一会了。

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好梦总是短暂的,总是在梦醒后想要再次拥抱,可是模糊的双眼,清晰的大脑,自己却欺骗不了自己。也许是时候该深刻的检讨一下自己在近一段时间的表现和收获了吧。

昨下午,倩倩同志得知我心情不好,约我晚上坐一会,我也不好推辞,5点我们就往火吧去了。我给葡萄说,我总觉得自己缺少一样东西,但是我不知道我到底缺少的是什么,因为我缺少的这样东西,使我看起来更像是一个小孩子,而不是一个男人。我觉得我缺少的那样东西就是自信,我没有自信。举例来说,我自搬回家住以后,再也没有单独给自己买过衣服裤子之类的东西了,已经很久了,大概4年多了吧,以前一个人住,什么都能做到,可是现在就是买衣服这样简单的事情,我总是希望能拉上一个人陪我去,或者,干脆就是不买,要么把钱给妈妈,让妈妈买,可是妈妈买的衣服颜色又太深,款式比较老土。其实,我觉得这是我在生活中缺乏自信,我应该改变一下。手里握着那么多票子,还怕什么?!

葡萄说,我认识了你这么久,你一直都是一个样子,没有什么变化,只是感觉2年多前见你的时候和现在有一点不同,那时你自信,人快乐,而不像现在,现在你颓废。我发现你现在有一种悲观,或者是忧郁的思想。说到这里,我不知道该怎么对他们说,因为我现在都有点不知道该怎么去说自己了,以前总觉得很了解自己,可是现在我突然感觉根本不了解自己,就好像前几天的日志里面说的,我到底需要怎么样的生活,怎么样的未来。

说到这里,葡萄就问我,那你有没有什么未来的目标?

目标,哦,我似乎还没有。我只是期望一种很平庸,很简单的生活,就是人生没有什么理想,只是简简单单的结婚,生子,然后等待结束这样的生活。生活的水平不要求那么高,只是家里的成员都快乐,开心就可以了。我的家族是典型的农民阶级,身边的亲戚姊妹,没有什么飞黄腾达的,只是简单的生活。

2个哥哥嫂嫂的生活很普通,普通的打工者的生活,长辈就不再说了,平辈的生活都是那样,没有什么惊喜或者让我羡慕的。

葡萄两口子还说到关于钱财的问题,其实这是这个时代最敏感的问题,现在的感情能不谈物质吗?似乎我没有发现过。我这个人确实不懂理睬,向来挣了多少都花了,从来没有给自己存过,也是这个月我才开始努力存钱的,葡萄希望我能加大存款的额度,由800变成1200,1500,他希望我能在3年内存够5万RMB。说实话,这是个挑战。呵呵。我不知道我能不能完成,但是我在坚持,我在继续。

感情的事情,我觉得还是放一放吧,我过于强求却什么都得不到,或者,得到的什么都不是。我很失望,很迷茫。

一天又一天,每天过的日子就好像是醉生梦死。记得我高中班主任曾给我们说过,不要长立誓,要立长誓。呵呵,突然感觉自己快变成这样了。

我脑子里面一片混乱,真的。我不知道该怎么去形容那种状态。总之,很差劲。

谨将此文献给07年1月26日23:23分躺在床上的自己。

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一切来的太快,我快要招架不住了。想不通为什么自己的性格会让人喜欢。也想不通为什么自己说话总是以伤人结束。想不通结婚到底是为了什么,或者因为什么而要在一起。有时候,我真的想闭上眼睛,什么都不想听到,什么都不想见到。

周末历经一次让我无法想通的攻势,我真的不知道没有结果的爱情还存在不存在。

周末牛过生日,我们7个人聚会,几个人在一起,肯定就是打牌,打了一下午我就没有赢一分钱,因为打到最后几把的时候,我实在是没有耐心打下去了,感觉肚子饿饿,想吃饭,没有心思打牌了。所以最后一把我把自己所有的牌子都输完了。呵呵。只是陪打。

聚会上我带了她,我想让大家都看一看我认识的那个她,大家说她很开朗,她不会打牌,就在我旁边坐着看,然后时不时给大家倒水,辛苦她了。呵呵。哥们几个就说让人家也玩玩,人家也不愿意玩。后来我们散了,她就跟我说了一句话,”以后这样的聚会再别叫我,没有意思”,当时我心就凉啊。唉。我发现我自己现在挺自私的,尤其是在吃饭的时候,我感觉到的,我总是先给自己夹菜,然后才会意识到要给人家夹菜。我已经没救了。两个人走在路上的时候,竟然也不知道要说些什么了。感觉没有心灵的交汇点。

突然感觉到一切都是白费心思,想要逃脱。

我到底要怎么样?!我到底想干什么?!我到底要一个怎么样的女朋友?!我到底需要的是什么!?我开始怀疑自己一直在做的任何事情。

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最近几天兰州出奇的冷,从里到外,感觉不到一点点暖意。

周六把摩托车推出来,踏着热了一会车,我怕车搁着把机油,避震器里面的油全冻了,骑到我爸那转了一圈,呵呵,真的很冷,葡萄说,冬风刺骨,春风入骨。哈哈。不过还好,我全副武装了一下,面部遮挡了,就是穿的衣服不是拉链式的,下车站直了,直接打了特别爽的冷颤。

昨天由倩倩同志带领我参加了一个相亲见面会,其实我不想去,我觉得自己不适合这种目的性太强的方式,我喜欢按照我的感觉去寻找。当然,朋友是好意啊,也不好拒绝,去了也就按照原定计划,打了一下午双扣,也没有怎么说话,晚上一起吃了便饭,就各自散伙了。

我现在的需要改变一个很重要的人,我不知道自己能不能做到,但是我很希望自己试一次。如果做不到,我就只能放弃,虽然个性方面可能难以改变,但是一些生活方面的问题,我想试一试,我不想错过这个机会。在这里,我就先不说是谁了,因为我也不知道自己能不能成功,毕竟得看人家愿意不愿意配合了。呵呵。老陈说不合适,应该及早分开,别耽误人家前程,但是彼此都挺喜欢的,就看有没有未来了。愿,所有的朋友们都祝福我啊,希望我能成功。呵呵。自恋一下下。

驾照拿到手了,一直还没有来得及上路跑一下,不知道这周有没有时间了。周六,刘亚婷的生日,又得准备生日蛋糕,我看我们这的A里蛋糕样式都让我订了一次了,最后大家一致认为原味的比较好吃。对,我再准备一次。哈哈。

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最近写日志的激情不够旺盛了,不是不愿意写,而是感觉自己越来越不明白到底这样的日子是否有意义,工作就好像放羊一样,回到家里,却又感觉空空荡荡,没有一点温暖的感觉,是吧,我想是我的寂寞与孤独在作祟。

这些日子,我渐渐的迷上一个美女,陈绮贞。因为她的歌真的好听,歌词写的好,曲子谱的不错,而且重要的是她的声音真的很纯,75年出生的大美女,嗓音就好像还是青春期的小丫头。给大家摘抄几句歌词,个人感觉真的很不错。

"我需要逃避 摊开你的手让我死在你的怀里","美丽会凋零 腐朽我的爱情","喜欢一个人孤独的时刻 但不能喜欢太多","你离开我就是旅行的意义","告诉我 你不是真的离开我 你也不愿这样的夜里 把难过留给我 告诉我 你不是真的离开我 你是要惩罚我的爱让你失去自由"等等。

个人推荐陈绮贞的所有专辑,因为我觉得她的每一首歌都很好听,都让我喜欢。我的MP3里面装满了她的所有歌曲。每天上下班,坐在车上的时候,安静的聆听,幻想着另一个世界,回忆着我的爱情。

印度大诗人泰戈尔说过"使生如夏花之绚烂,死如秋叶之静美"这样跨越时空的生命诗歌。生命短暂,我们有很多很多事情需要去做,不希望错过任何一件事情,一个人,可惜的是,最后发现一切都是那么简单。

淡淡的想念你,离开我就是你的旅行的意义。我讨厌这样的我,总是活在过去的回忆中,想着某一年的这个时候,我在做什么。甩不开这些思念,慢慢的就被湮没了。等着那一天的到来,等着你爱我的时候,我会将所有回忆撕碎。

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昨天晚上比较无聊,躺在床上,想起了坐在避风塘里面看到的汽车杂志上介绍的电影《极速60秒》。虽然以前看过,但是没有怎么注意过片中的汽车,马上打开网络生活,搜索电影名字,嘿,搜到了,好,免了我下载的痛苦,开始欣赏。

片中我最喜欢的是那辆67年灰色的福特野马GT500,片中Nicolas亲昵地叫她"伊琳诺", 她的前端典型的美国气息,比一般车长,屁股很翘,的确是一个美人,是我梦想中的那个宝贝儿。加速性能相当不错,另外车内有加速装置,爆表不在话下,环境允许的话,直上170码,wow~,baby,你真的是迷死我了。虽然伊琳诺现在的配置并不算什么稀奇,可是在67年出产的时候,那可是顶级跑车配置啊,虽然和法拉力比起来,法拉力是跑车正宗血统,但是昂贵的价格并不是一般人能买起的,而福特野马却是一款平民"法拉力"。

音响中正在放着War的Low Rider,突然有种想做贼的欲望,想去把伊琳诺偷回来。想象一下,Nicolas驾驶着伊琳诺甩掉N辆追逐的警车和直升机,伊琳诺的魅力可想而知。特别喜欢那个加速按钮,上面写着"宝贝,冲吧"。好了,我回头把那首激动人心的Low Rider传上来,然后贴几张独角兽的照片。嘿嘿。大家都来意淫一下。

跟我一起闭上眼睛,想象自己打开车门,坐上独角兽,拧动点火,挂档,加油,come on,让我们的独角兽扭一下迷人的屁股,great,继续加油,慢慢的将油门踩到底,wow,听到她咆哮的声音了吗?Yeah~爽哦。

Eleanor, I love you so much, baby, be my pretty toy, drive me crazy!

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为什么今天晚上会写这个题目,我想是和别人在讨论感情的时候谈及到的。在我看来,缘分之说,纯属谬论。

为什么是谬论,且听我一一道来。朋友说,那你把两个人走不到一起归结为什么?只能归结为没缘分。我反对这种观点。每个人的恋爱谁没有努力过,谁又和谁是有缘无分,还是无缘分,纯粹主观幻想。在我看来,两个人无法走到一起,原因是有很多的,比如生活方式不同,环境不同造成的追求不同,性格不合等等,但是绝对不是因为没有缘分。

朋友又说,既然知道性格不合,为什么要谈恋爱?性格不合是因为谈了很长时间后得到的一个结论,你在刚开始追求,谈恋爱的时候得到这个结论吗?追求别人的时候,你最多了解别人的5%吧,或许比这个数字还低,而在经过一段时间的相处,生活后,突然发现彼此都有缺点或者无法忍受的习惯等等,这时候我想包容都不能抵消这种马上爆发的危机的,当然其结果肯定就是分手,但是绝对不是因为彼此没有缘分。

缘分是这个世界上最可笑的一种自我解嘲的解释。谁知道谁和谁是有缘分啊,难道我们都是神仙,能看到每个人的脑门上印着两字,“有缘”或者“无缘”。中国神话故事中的月老,根本就不存在!人就是这么可笑,这么逃避,宁愿相信假的,不愿意相信真的。这种借口我真的不愿意再一次听到!

是的,人为什么要活的那么清楚,不如糊涂一点,活着轻松。但是,这种借口也许太让人反感了。即便是不能够恋爱或者结婚,即便是男人的错,或者是女人的错,勇敢一点,哪怕是在分手后的最后一刻,向对方说出来,也比这种冠冕堂皇的缘分之说更触动人心,更真实。

所以,我的朋友,请不要再告诉我,我的缘分还没有到,我想说的就是我只是还没有遇到那个让我动心的人而已。

我好难受,今天晚上的这个时候,想起了很多很多,突然觉得自己很悲哀。发了短信给张静,一如既往的没有回信。唉。

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今天3号,元旦节日算是过完了,新的一年开始了。手机上的那句话也在中午改成了”新年新气象”,那么多的事情要在今年完成,突然感觉自己是不是给自己太大的压力了,尤其是结婚这件事情,目前尚是单身,连个目标人物都没有,是不是有点夸夸其谈了?

晚上染妹超无聊,和我一样,不过还好啊,她有折磨的对象,jojo,我呢,我折磨谁去呢,没人。听听音乐,最好的寂寞解药了。有人发来短信,说自己喝大了,问我在干吗,我能干吗啊,肯定是爬网了,我说她啊,以后生的娃娃都是酒鬼。哈哈。不敢乱说,万一人家找我来怎么办呢。

中午出去买皮鞋,买皮带,算是奖励一下自己,辛苦的2006年,什么穿的都没有给自己买过,今天就给自己个机会打扮一下。哈哈。老陈说我买的皮鞋,太亮了,我说亮了好啊,能当镜子使,哈哈,他说我干脆在鞋上装个摄像头算了。我们这些老小伙太流氓了,一点都不知道矜持的。哈哈。

我们有个打算,想在1月底或者2月初组织4个人自驾去九寨沟玩,染妹口气坚决的说要去,看来到时候得把她带上,否则我回来肯定给我拼命呢,她就一个要求,希望能活着回来。哈哈哈,她对我的驾驶技术不放心,她说我考2次都不过,能让她放心吗,哈哈,也合情理。老陈是老司机,有人家保驾护航,肯定没有问题了。就得看能不能成行了,目前只是一个设想,一个打算,得看大家的时间。

我能放下旧日的感情,却放不下那个思绪萦绕的灵魂。谁可以!

Girl, you know, we can't love. You broke my heart, although I knew you were really caring me.
Girl, you know, I'm ready for you. Baby, I know about my moods. Don't try to escape.
Girl, you know, I wish we have a family, how do I say goodbye to you.Come back, baby.

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