Having watched his father’s depressed expression, Karim was at a loss for words which could console him. The petrified expressions of his family members, wailing of the neighbors, nothing touched Karim more than the sad expression of his father. Never had he seen his father in such despair and utter hopelessness. All his life, Rahim Mollah urged his children to think positively. But now, it was him who had lost faith in life. Among the crowd of homeless people when Karim noticed Su, to him she looked like a lighthouse during a storm at sea. Another tragic scene ensued when he plodded through the crowd and escorted her to his hut. She was surrounded by the women and children of the Mollah clan. They had only one thing to say, “Save us from these hyenas!”
From his regional headquarters in Sittwe, Brigadier Lee kept a sharp eye on the situation in Arakan. He paid particular attention to the situation in Ruthi Daung district, and accordingly, he had been conveying his commands to his troops and security personnel. So far, he did not receive any news of resistance against the operation ‘Blood Red Greetings’ from the Rohingyas, but he knew it would come. Eventually, when he would face such resistance, to what extent he could use force to suppress it, Lee thought the guidelines were not explicit regarding this. This made Lee order his adjutant to ask for written directives about it from the army headquarters at Mingaladan. At ten thirty in the morning, he heard the red telephone in his office ringing. The red telephone was used only for communication with army headquarters. Lee sat straight in his seat as the heavy voice of Senior General Maung Shui Pon, the Chief of Staff, reached him. After the formal exchange of greetings, from the other end General Maung said, “Lee, you have been given full authority to implement operation Blood Red Greetings, why are you so hesitant about it?”
“No sir, I’m not hesitant. But in case of resistance, I just seek an explicit written directive as to how far I could go in suppressing such resistance.”
“There’s no limit to your powers. In order to tackle armed terrorists, you are free to apply whatever means are available to you.”
“Sir, I assume ‘shoot to kill’ is included in this directive.”
“Of course.”
“Could I expect a written directive about it from the army headquarters?”
“You’ll never get it Lee, and you should know why. This is when the question of allegiance to your country comes in. If you truly love your country, you won’t worry about it. Before your personal security, you must think of the well-being and security of your country and her people. You know all too well, why there is this need for operation Blood Red Greetings. Therefore, I won’t prolong this conversation. Just do what is expected of you. I think a verbal directive is sufficient for this.”
“Yes sir. Long live Myanmar!”
When Maung Shui Pon had hung up the phone, a thin line of sweat appeared on Lee’s forehead. He was being sandwiched by patriotism and allegiance to his state on one hand and the heavy burden of accountability on the other. It was an uncomfortable proposition. Eventually Lee shrugged off his anxieties, and stood up resolutely for the sake of national interest.
When the men of the security forces saw Ayub and his men approaching them, they stepped forward.
“What’s the matter? Why have you come out of your homes? Do you people have a death wish? Can’t you see how dangerous the situation is?” the tallest man among them asked contemptuously.
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Calmly Ayub replied, “Today or tomorrow we have to die anyway. So, we don’t worry about that. The question is why are you standing here idly? It is your sacred duty to protect the properties and lives of the citizens of this country. I don’t think you people are doing that. Apart from that, why are you so few in number? Over here you need more people.”
One of the men of the security forces said, “You people are not the citizens of this country. So, it is not our duty to provide security to you.”
A six feet tall Rohingya youth standing behind Ayub tried to say something, but Ayub stopped him and said, “Let me do the talking, you guys just listen. If I need any assistance, I’ll let you know.” After this he cleared his throat and said to the police, “The entire world sees us as the citizens of this country. Only you and your fascist big brothers Russia and China deny this fact. Anyway, we will keep demanding our rights. These are the homes of our ancestors, and it is your duty to protect them. If you cannot perform your duties, instead of standing idly, you should just leave this spot.”
With humor in his tone, the tall police man said, “Think deeply before what you say. If we leave the spot, the consequences of it won’t be very nice for you. Matter of fact, it might be pretty gruesome.”
“Even if you stay, what is about to happen, will happen. Therefore, I think it’s better that you leave.”
“Okay, we’ll do just that. But later don’t complain about it.”
After saying this, the policemen made gestures as if they were about to leave the spot. But instead of doing that, they took up position hundred yards from the spot. Ayub looked around him, in order to have an idea about the situation. From all directions, a pack of hyenas in the form of human beings, were approaching them. A monk wearing a dark purple robe said to them, “Stop them from returning to their huts. Our mentor Hin Kao was killed by these terrorists.”
Accordingly, the mob blocked the way of Ayub and his companions, returning to their huts. At this point the monk raised his stick, and said while pointing at Ayub, “We should start with this terrorist. No sooner the monk had finished, the angry mob attacked Ayub and his men with sticks, machetes and spears. On the other hand, the rest of the Rohingya men came out of their huts and attacked the mob with sticks from the rear. The policemen who were standing only a few yards away, could not imagine that only a handful of Rohingyas would dare attack thousands of angry mobs.
However, sitting behind his desk in his office at Sittwe, Lee had speculated, this kind of incident could occur. Hence, when the men of the security forces called him and asked for directions, Lee decided to send a platoon of soldiers from the nearby camp, and stood up to review the situation himself. Lee gave orders to the platoon commander to shoot to kill on sight. Of course, it was a verbal command given through mobile phone.
After arriving at the scene, the platoon commander found the riot in full swing. However, to the platoon commander, it didn’t seem like a riot because apart from those Rohingya men, the rest of the angry mob had been busy fleeing from the scene, dropping whatever they had in their hands. Just as a tiger becomes doubly fierce when cornered, the Rohingya men had become like that. Having no fear of death, hundred and thirty-seven men were chasing thousands. By that time, there was no casualty among the Rohingya men. However, six of them were injured and had taken shelter in their huts. So far, people who died were all part of the angry mob. Their corpses lay here and there on the road.
With a binocular in his hands, Lieutenant Ba Mao observed the situation for about ten minutes. Then he thought for a while what he was about to do. Ba Mao was a twenty-three-year old officer of Tatmadaw. Ba Mao’s ancestors who were from China settled in Burma prior to the First World War. In his short military career, he had never been assigned to this kind of mission. It was an opportunity for him as his adversaries were all unarmed civilians. Before getting down to business, he spit out his chewing gum, repositioned his cap a bit so that it didn’t hinder his vision and climbed up onto the truck. His round face glistened as a thin layer of sweat enveloped his countenance. In the meantime, the troops on the truck had finished setting up the world-famous MG 42 German heavy machine gun. Behind the machine gun which was belt fed and ready for action, Ba Mao stood with his two feet spread out a bit. Then he placed his two hands on his hip, removing his dark glasses and placing them in his shirt’s pocket. Once again, for a few seconds he reviewed the situation with his binoculars. He pointed out the targets to his troops, and then calmly gave his order, “Fire.”
As the machine gun began spewing out death, the Rohingyas were decimated just the way crops are cut by a sickle. Those Rohingyas taking shelter in their huts were killed by grenades. This way, the young Lieutenant massacred hundred and thirty-seven Rohingyas in less than a minute. But before the arrival of the platoon, three Rohingya youths had quietly sneaked out of their homes. They were to cross into Bangladesh. With them they had the recorded images of how the entire incident had started. Two of them were caught on their way and subsequently killed, but the third one managed to cross the border. This youth revealed to the world what had happened in the northern village of Aung Syke.