David Eubank - Do This for Love: Free Burma Rangers in the Battle of Mosul

FIDELIS BOOKS BOOK

An Imprint of Post Hill Press

ISBN: 978-1-64293-503-5

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-64293-504-2

Do This for Love:

Free Burma Rangers in the Battle of Mosul

2020 by David Eubank

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Cody Corcoran

Interior photos courtesy of David Eubank, unless otherwise noted.

Maps and battlefield sketches provided by Justin DeMaranville and David Eubank.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION, NIV Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used with permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

The views, opinions, and theological expressions contained herein do not necessarily reflect those of Fidelis Books or its other authors.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Post Hill Press

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Published in the United States of America

This book is dedicated to all the Rangers
who have given their lives for others.

Most recently, we lost Zau Seng, our Kachin medic and cameraman, who was killed in an attack by the combined Turk and Free Syrian Army (FSA, Turkish proxy) forces in Syria on November 3, 2019, while on a relief mission. Zau Seng was a Kachin Ranger who served fourteen years with us in Burma, Iraq, and Syria. Along with being one of our top FBR leaders, he helped raise Sahale, Suu, and Peter and was a brother to all of us.

Before his last mission to Syria, he said, I want to go back and help, just as others have helped me. I want to help tell the story with my camera and put a light on the people. We miss Zau greatly, and he leaves behind a young wife and a daughter who turned one year old on the day he was killed. The world is poorer for his loss, but we will continue his legacy of love, joy, courage, and service. We believe the things of the world are fatal but not final. We will see him again with Jesus in what the tribal people of Burma call the undiscovered land. One day, we will all discover this land and enter the same new life Zau has now. Until then, we are here to love, to serve, to stand against evil, and to add to the beauty of the world.

Thank you, Zau Seng and all Rangers who have gone before us, for showing us how.

Table of Contents

The battle of Mosul, which lasted from October 2016 to July 2017, brought to a point all the lessons we have learned in over twenty years of Free Burma Ranger service in Burma, Sudan, Kurdistan, Iraq, and Syria. Old lessons about love, courage, commitment, practical service, and faith were reinforced under fire while new lessons, relationships, and battlefields taught us new ways to live, serve, forgive, and love.

The Free Burma Rangers (FBR) was founded by me and my wife Karen, along with ethnic leaders in Burma, in 1997 in response to a Burma Army offensive that displaced over five hundred thousand people. Since then, it has grown to include many different ethnic groups across Burma and the world. FBR is made up of Christians, Buddhists, Muslims, animists, Yezidis, agnostics, and atheists. We are not a religious organization, yet we are all united in the mission of bringing help, hope, and love to people of all faiths and ethnicities in conflict areas, shining a light on the actions of oppressors, standing with the oppressed, and supporting leaders and organizations committed to liberty, justice, and reconciliation. We believe love is the most powerful force in the world and try to serve others in love.

FBR is not a militia and most of our team members are unarmed. Our role is to give humanitarian help and get the news out in those conflict areas where we are called to go. We are not an attacking force, but we abide by this rule: an FBR member cannot leave someone who is in danger or run away if the people they are with cannot run away. Each individual decides whether or not to use weapons for protection, but cannot abandon anyone, no matter how dangerous the situation is.

We have over ninety relief teams in Burma, with each team composed of four to six people, as well as teams in Iraq and Syria. I am a follower of Jesus, and I have felt Him change my heart and help me do what, for me at least, would otherwise be impossible. I am thankful to all who have helped us by their love, actions, support, and prayers.

Mosul: June 2, 2017, 3 p.m.

Wreathed in smoke and dust, the tank raced forward, tracks screaming, jet turbine engine whining, main gun blasting, coaxial machine gun firing, and ISIS shooting back. We ran behind, past the bodies of men, women, and children as the tank zigzagged around them. Bullets smashed into the tank and ricocheted by us; others crackled in from the side, narrowly missing. An ISIS rocket-propelled grenade crashed to our left. Running with our team, I was also trying to make myself heard on my phone as I called for a smokescreen from the American battle commander.

War is loud. Thats one way its different than the movies. Another way is you can die. I was feeling both differences, running behind the revving Abrams tank as it blasted away at a gutted three-story hospital just two hundred meters from us, where hundreds of heavily armed ISIS fighters overwatched the road, firing at anything that moved. At the moment, my team and I were the only things moving, and machine gun and sniper rounds screamed by all around us as we sheltered behind the roaring tank. Layers of noise, from the high-pitched scream of bullets one meter away to the deep concussive explosions of air strikes five hundred meters away to the roar of the tanks engine and guns, along with heat, smoke, and dust, enveloped us under the merciless June sun.

The Iraqis had been trying to cross this road for a week; it was littered with Iraqi military vehicles destroyed by ISIS fire from the hospital. A few days before, the unit we were with was reinforced by another Iraqi battalion, which was immediately decimated: twenty-two soldiers were shot in one attempted movement across this thoroughfare. Our team helped recover the wounded that day, sprinting into the open under fire and dragging them back to safety. ISIS had repulsed every attempt by the Iraqi Army to cross this road. But now, five of us had crossed it, running behind a lone Iraqi tank toward ISIS lines, and were stopped on the other side, looking straight at the hospital just two football field lengths away.

All around us were the dead, more than fifty bodies strewn across the road in the graceless poses of desperation. An old man slouched, killed in his wheelchair; the young man who had been pushing him crumpled on the ground behind. Two young girls, maybe eight and ten years old, looked as if theyd been flung like dice to the ground by a giant hand; one of them was missing the top of her head. An old woman whod carried a bundle was curled up beside it, dead in the middle of the street. A young man was sprawled full length, one arm stretched forward as if reaching for something just out of his grasp. His other hand reached back toward a young boy fallen at his side. And on and on.