Droning On
Htet Myat, a defected soldier who joined the democracy movement, shares the following story from Breaking Brainwashed.
“They keep their eyes peeled, searching for the mischievous drones, curious about their origin and destination. It’s like a real-life game of hide-and-seek, but with flying gadgets.”
Picture this: the State Administration Council (SAC) decides to dabble in drone usage. Yep, they do! But here's the catch—these drones are assigned to each battalion for some good ol' reconnaissance and scouting. You know, for those situations where it's just too darn dangerous to stroll around on foot and locate enemies. Sneaky, sneaky.
Now, who's responsible for handling these pesky little flying machines? Well, in each battalion, they pick some unlucky officer to be the drone pilot. But hold on a second! Before they can take the drone for a spin, they have to attend some "how to fly without crashing" training sessions. Safety first, right?
But here's the juicy part: while the officer is off learning the ropes, there's no one to pilot the drone. Uh-oh! So, when the need arises to use the drone, they have to grab someone who kinda-sorta knows what they're doing. It's like handing the keys to a Ferrari to your grandma and expecting her to set a lap record. Total chaos, my friends!
And guess what happens? Yep, you guessed it. That untrained drone pilot takes off, only to crash the poor thing without a single enemy bullet in sight. Talk about a disaster! They end up with zero information, and the person who ordered the drone and the pilot are left pointing fingers like it's a bad game of "Whodunit." It's like the drone gods are playing a cruel prank on these poor soldiers.
Now, let's dive into a specific tale that'll have you rolling on the floor with laughter. Lieutenant Aung Kyaw Htet, the personal assistant to the battalion commander at KhaLaYa 223, finds himself in a bit of a pickle. They have a trained pilot for the drone, but he's conveniently absent for some unknown reasons. Murphy's Law strikes again!
But here's the kicker: they're ordered to scout around the camp hill for enemy forces, and complaining is not an option. So, what do they do? They nominate PA Kyaw Myo Htet, who knows just a smidge about drones, to take the helm. Buckle up, folks! This is going to be one wild ride.
With a leap of faith, they get the drone up in the air, circling around the base like a tipsy seagull on a summer vacation. They muster up the courage to follow orders and fly the drone to the designated scouting area. But guess what? The weather is worse than trying to hold an ice cream cone on a rollercoaster. Fog and snow everywhere! Talk about bad luck, huh?
So, they report back about the impossible conditions, but as the military's motto goes, "We don't care about the holes in the bucket, just bring back the darn water!" They push forward, hoping for a miracle, only to watch their drone crash-land like a drunken seagull trying to land on a flagpole. Ouch!
And the aftermath? Oh boy, it's not pretty. They report the whole fiasco, but no one wants to take responsibility for the epic drone fail. Instead, they receive an order to pay for the damages caused by the crash. You heard it right! The overseer and the poor pilot have to foot the bill. Who would've thought being a drone pilot could put a dent in your wallet?
Now, here's the real kicker: this mishap doesn't just scare off the junior officers. Oh no, even the senior generals start developing a phobia of drones. I mean, who can blame them? They've seen the chaos and destruction firsthand. But hold your horses, because the senior generals have their own brand of drone fears. Let me explain.
Once upon a time, in the legendary Tower Hill battle between the EAOs and SAC, I had the privilege (or was it a curse?) of being the personal assistant to Lieutenant Colonel Aung Kyaw. Yep, I was his trusty sidekick, following him around day in and day out. Trust me, I knew every order, every battle condition, and even the generals' favorite curry dishes. You name it, I knew it.
So, during this intense battle, the big shots from the Bureau of Special Operations (BSO) and other high-ranking generals gather in the war room to supervise the action. It's like a military version of "Who's Who." And there I was, right beside my commanding officer, ready to witness the chaos unfold.
Now, here's where it gets interesting. Reports start pouring in from the frontline, claiming that one of the forward artillery bases got bombed by a drone. Casualties and chaos galore! Naturally, the chief in charge decides to sound the alarm and warn other fronts about these menacing machines. And boy, does that announcement throw everyone off balance.
As if on cue, drones start buzzing over our base like a cloud of pesky mosquitoes. But hold your horses, because this time, everyone is on high alert. These drones were like the Grim Reaper himself, instilling fear in every soldier's heart. You can almost hear their thoughts: "Are they carrying bombs? Will they rain destruction upon us?" Panic starts to spread like wildfire.
Now, imagine this scene: a peaceful morning, soldiers relaxed, officers chatting with their wives on the phone, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Some soldiers are even catching a quick nap after a hearty meal. Suddenly, out of the blue, drones swoop down from above. It's like an avian invasion! Chaos erupts once again, as if the world turned into a giant game of "The Floor is Lava."
But here's the real gem of the story. Those so-called "old generals" showcase their lightning-fast reflexes that would put Olympic sprinters to shame. Duty, sleep, or conversations be damned! They bolt into the nearest room, tripping over their own feet, not giving a hoot about who they bump into along the way. It's a sight to behold, my friends.
But wait, there's more! Yours truly, along with my commander, gets caught up in the frenzy, struggling to reach the safety of a room. The chaos is inevitable, like a whirlwind of confusion. Hilarious, yet slightly terrifying at the same time.
And so, to tackle this drone conundrum, they form squads of brave soldiers armed with anti-drone guns and motorcycles. They position themselves around the base, ready to shoot down any drone that dares to fly over headquarters. It's like a high-stakes game of "Duck Hunt," military style.
But guess what happens next? You won't believe it. After all the preparations and vigilance, there comes a moment of truth. One fateful evening, the drones make their grand entrance yet again. But this time, something feels different. The soldiers, having learned from their previous misadventures, are more composed. They keep their eyes peeled, searching for the mischievous drones, curious about their origin and destination. It's like a real-life game of hide-and-seek, but with flying gadgets.
Suddenly, the air is filled with a series of sharp noises. "Bang! Bang! Boom!" reverberates through the base, sending everyone into a state of sheer panic. Chaos ensues once again, just like before. People scramble to find cover, desperately trying to avoid the wrath of the unknown attacker. It's like a scene out of an action-packed blockbuster.
But here's the twist: it turns out that the source of all the commotion is none other than the anti-drone squad. Yes, you heard it right! Those brave souls who were entrusted with the task of protecting the base from drone attacks. They unleash their firepower with such passion and enthusiasm that the only sound you can hear is the thunderous gunfire.
However, amidst the chaos, one soldier steps forward, commanding his comrades to halt. "Stop! I said stop! You're killing everyone!" he shouts, desperately trying to put an end to their reckless shooting spree. The squad members, their faces filled with bewilderment, finally come to their senses. It's as if they were lost in a trance, blindly following orders without considering the consequences. Ah, the military life, where orders change faster than a chameleon changes colors.
But here's a nugget of truth: in the entire regiment, there's only one poor soul designated as the "drone catcher." Yes, you heard it right, just one officer equipped with the mighty anti-drone gun. Imagine the scenario: multiple drones attacking from different directions, and this lone soldier running back and forth like a frantic squirrel, unable to do a darn thing about it. It's like watching a comedy skit with a dash of tragedy. Poor guy can't catch a break!
And that, my friends, brings me to my final point. In the military, from the fresh-faced recruits to the esteemed top-ranking generals, everyone is afraid of drones. It's the stuff of nightmares. They possess all the technology to prevent drone attacks, but their incompetence and disarray prevent them from utilizing it effectively. It's like watching a group of penguins trying to play a game of chess—lots of flapping and waddling, but not much strategy.
So, let this tale be a reminder that even in the most serious and high-stakes environments, there's always room for a good laugh. The military, with all its rules and protocols, can still find itself tangled in a web of absurdity when faced with the unexpected challenges brought by those pesky drones.