|What happens when your
child walks out the door? Does the Beast of Terror steal him or
her? Abduct them? In Sri Lanka, children are taken
each day and trained to be Terrorists. Parents have no say
in the matter. The children become Tigers, fighting for a
cause they do not have any choice to refute. Most of them die.
But, in America, each day our children are abducted too by the Beast
of Terror. How? Why? Find out.
6, 2003—Ground Zero Plus 481
How The Beast of Terror Steals Our Children Before Our Eyes
Editor, New York City Combat Correspondent News
GROUND ZERO, New York City, Jan. 6-- It's hard
to imagine your child is walking down the street and a truck pulls up
and snags the child, throws him or her in the back with other
children, and drives off. It's hard to imagine you watch
the event and say nothing, fearful if you do you or your family will
be killed or tortured.
It's hard to imagine your child was
abducted to fight the "enemy," that he or she has been forcibly
abducted into a cadre of Terrorists, many of whom are on the cusp of
in Sri Lanka, on a daily basis, children under the ages of 18 are
taken from their families and trained as guerrilla warriors.
Many never see their mothers or fathers again. The rule of
thumb in the country of nearly 19 million of which 32 percent of the
population is under the age of 18, is that each family with more
than three children "owes" one to the guerrillas. The
group, Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, is considered one of the
world's most ruthless and effective secessionist movements.
For the past two decades the Tigers
have fought for a separate state. The Tigers represent the
minority of Tamils of Sri Lanka who are Hindu. They want to
secede from the the majority of Sir Lankans who are
Buddhists--estimated to be three-quarters of Sri Lanka's population.
The Tigers' Hindu political
leader, S. Thamilchelvam, denies children are currently conscripted by
force or threat to fight with the guerrillas. Despite
pressure from international human rights groups, the abductions and
recruiting continues despite a cease fire. Over the years,
the Tigers have lost 17,600 cadres (a cadre is the term used to
represent one "Tiger warrior") in battle and more than 64,000 total
lives have been lost throughout the country.
Leader Pirapaharen calls for autonomy and self-government in Sri
have thousands, and they're still taking them," said Rev. Harry
Miller, an American Jesuit priest who has lived in the town of
Batticaloa for more than a half century. According to a
report in the New York Times by Amy Waldman, this July the Tigers took
eight children from outside a Hindu temple feast on the edge of
Tiger cadre helps a child climb a rope at an orphanage in northern
Sri Lanka.. Villagers in Kinnaiyadi claim young people were taken
from there recently to join the Tigers.
children are taken to Tiger training camps where they are given new
names. They are told to erase the past. The Tiger cause is
glorified and the children are taught how to use weapons and to follow
orders. Many are used as suicide bombers. A
cemetery outside Kilinochchi is a final resting place for 1,983 war
heroes. The headstones have the cadres' real names, their
"movement names" their parents' names, their villages of origin and
the dates of their deaths. On each, however, one thing is
missing--the date of birth.
Last February a cease fire was agreed
upon between the government and the Tigers. Part of the cease
fire included a ban on taking children into the movement, either by
abduction or even if they volunteered. The Times
reported that the Sri Lanka Monitoring Mission, a team of
Scandinavians invited by both sides to monitor the cease-fire, has
certified 281 cases of child recruitment from February through
October, with more than 400 cases being investigated.
On the surface, the idea of
children being recruited under their parents' noses is disturbing.
It makes one wonder about how could a parent sit back in the 21st
Century and let the Beast of Terror take his or her child and train
the child to forget his or her past and become a disciple of
But that happens every
day here in America, and around the world in the most civilized of
The Beast of Terror
abducts kids almost every moment right under their parents' noses, and
there isn't a squeal of alarm sounded by the parents.
Let me give you a
couple of examples.
The other day I
went to VA Hospital in Manhattan to sign up for medical benefits.
It was pouring down rain and an icy wind shot off the East River so I
elected to take the midtown bus across 23rd Street. The
midtown bus is a double-sized bus connected in the middle by an
accordion-type waist that makes it look like a giant caterpillar.
The bus was
crowded so I worked my way toward the back and took an empty seat near
the exit so I could get off at Union Square. The rear of
the bus was full of children who had just got out of middle school.
They were about the same age of the prime recruits for the Tigers,
ranging between 12 to 14 years I guessed. As I sat down
one of the boys who was leaning against a pole glared at me.
Sitting, I was about eye-level with him. His eyes burned into
"Who you think you are sitting here!"
He thrust out his
chest defiantly, laser-like eyes locked on me. I stared
back at him, knowing his goal was to Intimidate me, to get me to cast
my eyes down or to remove myself from "his territory."
to my "Cool hat"
I said nothing.
The other kids cheered on the young boy. He looked at my hat,
one of those Raiders of The Lost Ark types I wear in the rain.
"Cool hat," he sneered, "except it should be
pink. You look better in a pink hat. Like that girl's
jacket. Real girly pink." He pointed to a young girl
sitting a few seats down wearing a bright pink rain jacket.
"I'm too ugly for
pink," I said in a calm, even Voice. "Big, ugly guys like me
don't look good in pink. If I did, I'd wear pink."
sneered. He didn't like the fact I was talking to him, not
succumbing to his command over the rear of the bus.
He glanced at my
watch. "Nice watch," he said.
I held up my wrist
in front of his face. "It's a Rolex. An oyster perpetual.
I got it in Vietnam after the war. It's been keeping perfect
time for thirty-five years."
The boy leaned
back. His attempt to Intimidate failed again. The
kids behind him were laughing, using foul language, opening the bus
window by slamming it with their fists so the emergency releases
popped it open. People jammed the bus but avoided coming to the
extreme rear where the young hell raisers had control.
My stop was coming
up. I stood, all six-foot-four inches and 270 pounds of me.
As I started off
the bus the bellicose boy shouted at me, "Don't you be comin' back on
this bus without a pink hat, you hear, man. You hear!"
I stood in the rain
and looked into the window of the bus at the kids.
They were a gang not a group. They were little Terrorists
In Training, not little children. The look in the boy's
eyes was one of pure hatred. Even though I stood my ground, the
boy had won the battle in his mind. He was impervious to
anything or anyone.
I thought of him
growing up, sharpening the fangs he already had. I saw him with
a gun in his hand shoving it in people's faces. I saw him
swaggering down the street, serving as a role model for other
kids--the tough guy.
Then I thought of
his parents, his guardians.
I knew the kid was
only a product of his training, his environment. I knew
the kid was playing out the role models set before him, aping the
guidelines of his teachers--his family and the values they expressed
He was a little
Tiger, conscripted into the service of hatred and animosity by the
training camps he lived within, where everyone was an enemy who didn't
agree with you, or look like you, or followed your value systems.
been a couple of moments when the young boy and I were staring at each
other when he became a child and I an adult. I wasn't
looking at him with hatred or fear, I was just looking at him.
He melted a couple of times and a little smile cracked at the corners
of his lips, respect I assume for my lack of kowtowing to his
dominance. All children like to challenge authority, but
some seek it as a form of violent reprisal based on their attitude
that everyone is out to "get them" and therefore they must "get them
about the conversations the kids in the back of the bus were having.
They were violent, foul conversations that had nothing to do with
being young. They were cursing and berating one another, calling
each other ethnic slurs, demeaning themselves and their self-images as
though nailing themselves into a coffin of class and race death from
which they could never escape.
Terrorism, I knew,
didn't have to occur in third-world countries to children.
Young Terrorists were being developed daily here in the United States,
fostered by Parents of Neglect who provided no training for the
children to evolve above the level of "fight or die" survivalism.
I thought of
parents who let their children put locks on their bedroom doors, who
refused to allow their parents entrance to their rooms on the grounds
"they were individuals and could do whatever they wanted."
I thought of the kids in Columbine High School who plotted the murder
of other kids, and how their parents were so busy doing their things
that they let their children flow to the lowest level of human
development--into the arms of the Beast of Terror.
I thought of the movie
the Breakfast Club, where all the kids in detention were violently
disenfranchised from their parents, emotional orphans who stood by the
road of life waiting to be recruited by the Beast of Terror into the
folds of the Tigers.
As I walked down the street in the cold, icy rain, I knew that in the
absence of Vigilance Terrorism ruled. I realized that any
parent who did not subscribe to the Pledge of Vigilance was leaving
their children unprotected, vulnerable to a truck pulling up and
snagging their child, taking him or her to a camp where the child
would learn how to use Fear, Intimidation and Complacency rather than
Courage, Conviction and Right Actions.
I knew how easy it would
have been to have looked at the young boy on the bus as a Terrorist, a
little punk who deserved a good spanking and lots of punishment.
But I knew that wasn't
I knew if anyone needed
discipline it was his parents. His guardians. His
loved ones. I knew they had abandoned the child to the
Beast of Terror. They were criminals of the child's
innocence. They left the child's Spirit of Vigilance
unprotected. They let the Beast of Terror take the child.
As I walked down the
street, I vowed to remember that a child has a right to Vigilance.
And, more importantly, that the parent of a child has a duty to
protect the child from being conscripted into the jaws of Terrorism.
The Beast of
Terror is kidnapping our children
I also knew then, as I do now, that there is little difference between
what is happening in Sri Lanka and what is happening daily in the
Our children are being
kidnapped by the Beast of Terror.
And we stand by and let it
Sometimes, we even push the
child into the Tiger's arms through our Complacency and our lack of
Vigilance over the child's outlook on life.
I burned the boy's face in my
He would be my reminder that I
must not give up my quest to promote the Sword and Shield of
Vigilance. And, I would hope that one day he would
awaken from the claws and jaws of the Beast of Terror and pick up the
Sword and Shield of Vigilance and lay down the gun I knew he had
Jan 5--Eating Those We Kill--The Final Art Of War
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