My camels name is Flauge, sand colored and hardly seen, I ride high between his humps, in the desert night, in robes and a hood of black with white specks, to blend with the stars, I slip behind enemy lines, and plant uncommon death, amidst common roadside objects, laden with explosives that disintegrate flesh vaporizing any near it. By day I am one of the people, and bask unknown in the sun, blending with the population undetectable. By night an insurgent seldom a killable force, for my camels are many and those who wear the robe are endless minions. We have been killing for decades, centuries, using weapons of stealth, we will not be defeated, sadly many are thrown against us, and become fodder in the scalding sand. One should choose their battles wisely, and know their enemy before rushing to war. We do not race to win, we have an eternity to remove invaders.' eventually the last tolerable one will die and then all will be sent home. But we will go on killing, it is our calling. can you not hear it, after the explosions grow quiet, and the flesh drips from tall palms.