Author: Mirza irtiza baig

Local police drive us to a remote section of a Utah valley where they say a unit of foreign fighters is stationed. The region resembles the one in some parts of Ukraine that were recently struck by shelling. The structures are leveled and bomb craters are visible all over the place. The distant rumble of outgoing artillery can be heard as we walk under the cover of trees. A small snake slithers by and quickly disappears. We walk up a small ramp and into a courtyard where soldiers are hurriedly packing up a vehicle in which they plan to head for the front lines. American accents are heard back and forth on their radio comms. Surprised and baffled to see a group of journalists, they wave us away. Clearly, they have other pressing matters. But after some calls with their commander, we're t...