Colonel Zancudos redefined psychological warfare.

In his heavy Liberian vernacular with a distinctive accent, he addressed his fighter.

“Men! Touday, we are go ing to comm ence sychological warfare”, he belted out.

“Men! Today, we are going to commence psychological warfare”, he belted out.

“We don kill our ene mies-the mauther fuckers.

We shoot to wood and let them mauther fucking bastards suffer.

And then they die”, he said laughing.

“We don’t kill our enemies-the mother fuckers.

We shoot to wound and let the mother fucking bastards suffer.

And then they die”, he said laughing.

In response, Joe and the other young, often children fighters raised their AK-47s in the air and shouted; –

We shoot to wood and let them mauther fucking bastards suffer”.

We shoot to wood and let them mauther fucking bastards suffer”.

Smiling, Colonel Zancudos then shouted

“We will never lose this war”

Colonel Zancudos was a smart guy; not terribly educated, but smart. His definition of psychological warfare was based on the fact his opponents lack adequate medical facilities, medicines or personnel.

If you start to wound a lot of them, they would become overwhelm and this would break them down psychologically.

On his satellite telephone, he called up his “friend” Aminov.

“Aminov”, “I have some pink one’s for you”.

Pink ones are a very sort after diamonds.

“That’s my best customer”, Aminov said laughing in his heavy Ukrainian accent.

Colonel Zancudos laughed too.

Listen he said, “I need some special bullets. I want some bullets that “wood” my enemies. I am tired of killing them”, he laughs.

Colonel Zancudos was high on “ganga”.

Actually, Colonel Zancudos smoked “ganga” twice a day. He likes to say he was on a “permanent high”, except when he is taking a shit or sleeping.

“Sure, sure” Aminov said. “When shipment” he asked.

“As soon as possible Aminov. This fucking war needs to end and we need to rule this country.

So, soon my friend” said Colonel Zancudos sounding irritated.

“Sure, sure” Aminov said again.

With his blood diamonds, Colonel Zancudos was able to buy these “special bullets” from the gun runner Aminov.

These “special bullets” are to wound, not to kill.

Holding up a bullet, and in his heavy Liberia vernacular, Colonel Zancudos shouted; –

” Men, from na on, some of you are gooing to load these special bullets in your weapons”.

“No “medicine” can help the mauther fucking enemy. Understand men?”

“Yes Commander”, shouted Joe and the other fighters.

By “medicine” Colonel Zancudos was not talking about modern medicine.

He was talking about black magic; fetish potions used by fighters to invoke and control supernatural powers.

Supernatural powers that would stop bullets from penetrating their flesh.

But these bullets were different.

No “medicine” would help.