Students from a primary school attend a national defense education program featuring revolutionary stories, a Long March exhibition and military training at an Armed Police unit in Baiyin, Gansu province, on Aug 25. XU WEI/FOR CHINA DAILY

Passing on stories

For Zhang Shuai, military life initially clashed with the gloss of recruitment videos. Born in 2003, Zhang had worked for several years after college before enlisting. But strict schedules and grueling daily training quickly wore him down. When fatigue hit during exhausting 5-kilometer armed runs, doubt crept in.

However, everything shifted during a visit to the Red Army Long March Victory Memorial. Standing before genuine relics of the 12,500-kilometer trek — frayed straw sandals, threadbare clothing and actual specimens of the grass roots that Red Army soldiers ate during times of extreme hunger — the abstract history turned painfully real.

"For the first time, I really felt what the Long March was like," he said.

After returning to his unit, he began talking with his squad leader and looking at his own training differently.

The 5-km armed run became a particular test.

"At first, it is about physical strength," he said. "But as you get closer to the end, it becomes about whether you have the determination to keep going."

When fatigue set in, he thought of the Red Army soldiers who crossed snow-covered mountains in straw sandals and thin clothes, and those who crossed the grasslands with little food and no guarantee that they would survive.

"Compared with what they went through, this little bit of hardship and fatigue is nothing," said Zhang.

Gradually, the recruit who once felt confused began to find purpose in his daily training.

He eventually became a Red history guide, sharing stories like that of an illiterate local woman who guarded a lost Communist Party of China registration form at the risk of her own life — a testament to an enduring civilian-military bond.

To Zhang, the story said something about more than revolutionary history. "It shows the bond between the soldiers and the people," he said.

For him, the spirit of the Long March means not fearing hardship or fatigue, being willing to make sacrifices, and thinking of comrades and the people.

His generation, he believes, has its own Long March. "The era is different, but the responsibility we carry is the same," said Zhang.

"Ninety years ago, our revolutionary predecessors overcame countless hardships and made the victorious rendezvous through sacrifice, winning the peace we enjoy today," he said. "Ninety years later, it is our turn to protect this peace, safeguard these peaceful years and protect this Red land."

For soldiers like Zhang, learning about the Long March does not take them back to the past. Instead, it gives new meaning to their lives in the present.

For Li Senyu, this understanding has led to another step: telling the stories to others.

Like Zhang, Li was once a young recruit learning about the history and traditions of the unit. Through regular education, visits to revolutionary sites and listening to stories passed down by veterans and fellow soldiers, his understanding gradually deepened.

He eventually became a Red history guide.

The role changed more than the way he spoke about history. It changed the way he looked at his own responsibilities.

As he tells the stories of the Long March to new recruits and visitors, he also reflects on his own training and conduct. What he once regarded as difficult or tiring becomes easier to put into perspective.

By helping new recruits understand the history of the place where they serve, Li has become part of a chain of transmission, from those who experienced the revolution, to those who remember it, and then to those who will carry it forward.

The Long March, in this sense, becomes a standard against which a new generation measures itself.