There was a commander—a man whose given name no one ever uses, so no one even knows it anymore. All the soldiers simply call him “Master Phoe Thet Pyin.”
He was the only one who survived when the entire military unit was caught in a fierce battle. Even when the camp was overrun and everyone had to dash away, he alone made it out alive. No matter how meticulously the mines were laid, if they tried to ambush him, he never faltered. Even if his legs wobbled like jelly, he kept marching on without a moment’s hesitation. In the final face-off with the enemy, he even shot his own gut with his rifle—and his legs turned to jelly.
Afterwards, the soldiers asked him, “Sir, if you have even a small quarters or a little building, please share it with us.” But he replied, “I don’t have one,” exchanged a few words, and walked away. The soldiers then gathered and thoroughly inspected him, yet they couldn’t find any quarters or unit at all—leaving them completely baffled.
Later, as his fame grew, a staff officer approached him and asked, “Sir, do you have any shooting ranges or munitions depots? If you do, please assign one to me.” He curtly replied, “I don’t have any,” dismissing the request outright. The officer, growing frustrated, said, “Aren’t you going to answer now? Will you only speak after you’ve been assigned to central command for a week?” Only then did he furrow his brow, scratch his head in thought, and slowly reply:
“In truth, I’m keeping myself alive by the power of loyalty. To be precise, every evening when a little loyalty oath is recited, I don’t just follow it automatically—I’m wary about its very essence. While the other soldiers boast that we guard the loyalty of the nation and its citizens, in my heart I think, ‘I don’t really protect the people’s loyalty.’ Instead, I’ve vowed to safeguard only the loyalty of our commander, Anti Khu, and his son, Aung Pyin.
“If the meaning of loyalty is mistaken, then its burden becomes crushing; but if it is true, its power is boundless—and that’s why my legs have given out.”
The staff officer said nothing, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. From that moment on, he himself began marching without any proper cover, and the soldiers started to take note.
(This is spoken by Master Phoe Thet Pyin himself. I think you should give it a try—it’s really not a big deal at all. When it comes to reciting a little oath of loyalty, you just need to change the words in your mind. Every soldier can do it.)