A dairy entry has been extracted from the heroes of the resistance of honour being exhibited in Rojava since the invasion war of the Turkish state.
A small window to the life of a warrior fighting on the frontlines of Rojava:
“It rained here after months. Every drop in the clouds, dropping from the sky fell to the ground like a sorrow, the painful tears of a people. With every falling rain drop, the fragrance rising from the soil suppressed the smell of blood and gunpowder. It relieved the pain of the wounds pressed with salt. The falling rain cleared the pale branches of the trees, adding color and life to each again.
Suddenly, the season changed. Suddenly, the rain became a curtain for war, it become blood covering the ground, it became the enemy positions being observed by blue, hazel and black eyes. Although it is relatively calm compared to other days, standing on the front, resting is an invitation to death, and giving the colonial executioners victory on a golden platter. For this reason, it is time to prepare a larger fetus by working like a bee, wrapping wounds with the compassion of a mother, every second of the truce. We don’t get away from this reality for a moment.
Now every comrade on the war front works like this. This is how they carry thier missions, breathless. No body cares about who say what, who does what and what decisions they make. Because everyone here asks what they can do, and tries to do their job in the best way. Because every sacrificer knows that history has witnessed very difficult moments, has witnessed many words, it has seen many demagogues, witnessed their cruelty, lies and tricks.
Although Cervantes said her “all is fair in love and war,” there have always been those who wrote history, and who always directed history. Here, those who resist, fight and pay the price have not said their last words. ”
