They are going. They are going because they know they have to go without looking back. They say goodbye, wish success and consign most of the things to each other.

And dialogues are opened towards the sky. They do not vanish into thin air, they create an energy and meaning without slipping into the possibilities created by space. "We will return until you warm the tea", "I don't die easily, don't worry", "I will not return without success" and many similar sentences are uttered from mouth to mouth, from ear to heart and eye to eye.

Words come and go like a labyrinth, and yet there are still things that remain unsaid. When you look into her eyes, the bottom-line goes to the heart. She turns her eyes away and stares at the mountains, walking down memory lane. She suddenly turns to me and says, "How much have we lost the most beautiful ones?"

And the handshakes begin. Although it creates an emotional state, everybody remains composed. Because guerrillas know very well that there is no place for this here, there is no time for it in such an age. That's why they shake their comrades’ hands and hug them for the things they cannot say.

The one who remains, but not the one who is gone, embarks on a quest. Departures are always timeless, no matter what time they are scheduled. Not the one who departs, but the departure itself has the leading role in this place. Going is a debt now, going is a duty, going is love... That's why when you see someone off, you wish success.

They take their guns, which they cleaned during the night, in their hands, tighten their şûtik well, tie their rexts and shoelaces.

Guerrillas do not take care of themselves on the way, they complete everything in their own circle and set out. They check each other's bags. Whoever has a heavy bag, everyone wants to help. This is the case with everything among guerrillas. You take care of all the human difficulties created by the circumstances before your comrades. You take the heaviest load, you go to the most dangerous area, you shoot the first bullet, you take the first step, you respond to the first bullet before your comrades.

They place their supplies in their bags. They have only a slice of bread in their bag. A bottle of water and maybe some cheese or a few olives. This is nothing more than the minimum necessity of life for them.

The smiles of two female guerrillas are caught on camera.

His name is Dicle. She was born in Kobanê, in the smallest part of Kurdistan, which has attracted millions of socialists to itself. And she takes the road of guerrillas. Now she is going to action in Zap with her great resistance and love. “This is not Zap's war, it's our war. Whether we are in Zap or not physically does not matter, we are already in Zap spiritually. We are in Zap in the sense of unity of hearts. The spread of the war is also an advantage for us, because the mountains are ours and every single invading soldier who sets foot on these mountains becomes our target. So, it doesn't matter where we are. This war is a war for all guerrillas,” she said.

They were smiling. They kept smiling even as they were departing.

Guerrillas Nirvana and Dicle look back again. They keep smiling.

There is experience and depth in the big blue eyes of Nirvana. She has eyes that are aware of everything that is going on. I had encountered this feeling previously in many guerrillas.

Nirvana took part in various battles. She has seen and sensed war. She joined the Rojava Revolution from North Kurdistan. She witnessed the most barbaric tortures of ISIS. She had great companionships. She paid the price for love in Kurdistan and set out on the roads. She coped with every difficulty without getting angry with the path she followed. She has returned to the mountains in order to protect the beautiful feelings that war obscures and the war style of the woman. And now she is part of a professional mobile ground team. Everywhere they go, they carry out actions for Zap.

What they actually put into their bags is their hopes, reunions, great passion for freedom and reliance on success. The rest is the road itself.

They look back for once, but not for the last time. In fact, they do not look at the camera, nor at me, but at their own memories and the cause they fight for. Because this is their war. The victory they will gain will be the victory of all Kurdish people.