“It was 1984, the 20th of August at 22:05,” Abdulla says. “We were with four other Peshmerga, I was second in the patrol. We were near Rowanduz. The Iraqi army ambushed us. The soldiers were jash [“baby donkey,” slang for Kurdish collaborators fighting for the Iraqis].”

They were silent. I had a Kalashnikov in my hands. When they started shooting, a bullet hit me in the chest and my right arm became useless. I told myself that I only needed one arm and started to fire back! They were 20 meters away and above us. The grass was very dry because it was summer. It caught fire and scared the enemy and all the shouting went quiet. Our leader was behind us and I say we must go back. He was hit in the leg and someone told me to carry him. I felt drunk. I saw black and red. All of this had taken just 10 minutes. We got to a river and someone sent for a donkey. I wanted to go to sleep, but I wouldn’t without my friends as we were still missing Rashid, who had been the first man in the patrol. I said it was wrong to leave people behind. I asked for some water and told them to wash out a pair of shoes to carry it in. I was still bleeding. When I got to Gerowa [Abdulla’s home village], there was no doctor, just a nurse. He sewed up my wound and then my mother came to see me and started to cry. I told her to stop or she should leave. I believed I would be okay! My father came and said last rites to me, but I refused to say them as well. Because I was not scared.

Abdulla lived to fight another day.

Now he oversees 45 kilometers of the front line with Islamic State.

“In some places the distance between us is seven kilometers, in others just 200 meters. Before the 8th of August we had a standoff, but then ISIS attacked and now we shoot on sight.”

He says snipers play a huge role on both sides.

In a recent battle, the Dark Lion’s forces killed 30 militants, including an infamous jihadist known as Saddam Farthil Turkey.

The Dark Lion with a Russian SVD Dragunov sniper rifle. Matt Cetti-Roberts photo

But the general says militants have seized a lot of ground. “This is a bad thing for humanity,” he warns.

He says that when French and American journalists visit, he always tells them to ask their governments to help the Kurds. “We can fight, we just need the weapons,” Abdulla says.

That help finally is starting to arrive.

“Yesterday we had two trucks of ammunition arrive. Everything from rifle ammunition to artillery shells. We also received some 81-millimeter mortars.”

He says he thinks the mortars came from the Americans, but with the influx of arms from the West, it’s hard to know for sure. “We have been told more will come,” he says.

He stresses that the Peshmerga aren’t the only ones in need of assistance.

“More support should go to the Sunni tribes who are against ISIS,” the general says.

“We make no difference between Shia or Sunni, Arab, Turkman or Kurd. We protect all of them,” Sherda chimes in.

Indeed, thousands of refugees of all ethnicities and faiths have sought the Kurds’ protection, including Sunnis fleeing the Islamic State’s harsh rule. Trying to protect them—while also trying to regain ground—has proved a challenge.