A band of young Myanmar resistance fighters hide in a muddy ditch and hook up a stick of dynamite to a slingshot. “Hide, hide. Ignite it. Provide wind protection. Son of a bitch, it’s exploded,” they shout in nervous excitement as it launches.
For the disparate and often ragtag forces, the lack of outside help for their cause has necessitated some creative thinking and jimmied-together weapons.
But in many clashes they are leaving the regime forces outmanned, outflanked and outgunned.
The rapid disintegration of the junta’s grip on the strife-torn country since a coordinated mass counter-offensive began in October is laid bare by an audio recording of a young officer’s final moments in his besieged base in Rezua, Matupi Township.
The desperation in 2nd Lieut Ye Myint Zaw’s voice rises as he pleads with a junta commander in central Myanmar to urgently send air power and save his isolated outpost from a fierce assault by resistance fighters.
“They’re already in our base and they’re going to shoot us. Send reinforcements and a fighter jet quickly, Aba,” he says, using the word for father to address his superior, Lt Gen Ko Ko Oo.
Bursts of gunfire become louder throughout their half-hour call as rebels from the Chinland Defence Force and Chin National Front draw closer to conquering the base, in western Chin State, even as Lt Gen Ko Ko Oo repeatedly promises that a helicopter gunship is on its way.
But after 37 torturous minutes, 2nd Lieut Ye Myint Zaw lets out an agonised dying moan. Then there is a triumphal shout over his radio. “Your base is now under our control. Your lieutenant is dead.”
Another video shows a rebel gunner firing a burst of ammunition at military fighter jets that have rained down so much misery and terror on civilians.
A direct hit would be a long shot and the jets seems untroubled, but he lets out a defiant whoop and sticks up his middle finger at the sky. Morale is high.