Die for me - Post Malone

38

"My fourth assignment in the Democratic Republic of the Congo was with the 12th Brigade. One hundred miles outside the capital, Kinshasa. Our base camp was situated high on the mountains overlooking the valley below. It gave us a remarkable view of the landscape but made us an easy target for rockets and mortar shells. There was a hostile militia in the area that had been raiding the small settlements. Taking the young boys, raping the woman, and killing those that served them no purpose. Our primary mission was to not engage with the militia but rather to infiltrate one untouched settlement at a time, gather the families, and bring them back to the base. They would receive medicine, food, water...protection. It was a beautiful countryside, some would describe it as paradise, but make no mistake, the evil that lurked around was from the depths of hell. They had no souls or humanity. There were thousands of settlements and they were all petrified of what their fate would be.

We worked as fast as we could, but there was never enough time. Never enough days. We found one settlement. They found two. We saved ten people. They killed twenty. The longer we stayed and the more people we saved, the more hostile the malita became. They started attempts at infiltrating our camp and the bigger it grew the harder it became to maintain. I reached out to my commanders. I asked them to remove the families we had. I told them we had gotten too big and that there were more settlements we still needed to get to. It fell on deaf ears. They felt we were doing enough...we were not doing enough. Then nightly attempts to gain access through our wire and the occasional firefight started. The militia wanted us out and they sent strong messages. We spent our days scouring the valley for settlements and then spent our nights fighting off the meta. I was spent. I was tired, and my men were losing their minds slowly. But, we never gave up. We put up a fight and after six months the militia started to retreat. They grew quiet and the whisperings were that they had moved on to another valley.

People started celebrating. Men spoke of going home to their families after being away from home for close to a year. The families we had protected in our camp started making plans to go back into the mountains and rebuild their settlements, starting their lives again. But, it did not sit right with me. Something felt off - the malita had been relentless...evil, and just like that they had decided to leave? These were men who had blood on their hands, they were willing to die for the war they had started. And they retreat without a word? No. I refused to let the families go back to their settlements. I convinced them to stay at the camp. Promised them protection for their wives and children. They trusted me so they stayed. There were close to five hundred people there. It was a little town of its own. There was a school and a town hall, people had livestock and grew fields of food - we were self-sustaining for all intents and purposes. After three months of not a single incident from the military, the people approached me again. They wanted to go home.  I had just received instructions from my commanders that it was time to pack up and ship out. I still had a bad feeling, but it had been months and I no longer had any leverage to keep them there.

I agreed. But,  during our meeting, a young boy came to our camp. He was covered in blood and reported that the militia had attacked his settlement. They had left no one alive this time and he had been lucky to get away. He also had a message for me from the militia. They said I was not to worry about them, they were moving their efforts into the city, the capital. It's a heavily populated city and lacks any military oversight. If they got into the city, thousands of people would die. I spoke with my men and we decided to cut the militia down. They had terrorized the valley for long enough. They would never stop. There was no other way. So under the cover of darkness, I chose a convoy of men and asked the families to stay at the camp for just one more night. They agreed, and we headed out. The terrain was harsh with thick dense forest. One misguided turn and you will be lost. We followed the boy. He took us over the mountain filled with sharp curves and deep drops off to the side. It was a hard task, but I had taken only my best men while the rest, still good men, stayed behind to protect the families. We got to the other side of the mountain with no complications. So far, so good. We were coming into the forested area of the pass, and everyone was on alert. We had sheer rocks on our right, but the problem was our visibility on the left. Congo forests are not like the ones at home where the trees are tall and the ground is covered with pine needles so you can see for miles through them. This was a combination of trees and bushes with a lot of ground cover thrown in for good measure.