Wander this world like a ghost without a country
The jeep bounces and skips down the dirt road at speed, and the wind blows in your hair. Yes! You are free! Freer than you have ever been!
This is last village before you reach your destination. You blow by peasants with donkey karts selling vegetables, but, suddenly thinking hungrier, you decide to pull a tight, dusty u-turn, and trade some morphine to them for roots and greens. No one has ever come here to tell them there is a war, but they aren't altogether surprised. A few jokes and a little chit-chat about the area, and you are off again, with the sun at your back, heading into the remote mountains.
That night, when you are certain there are no patrols, that you are well and truly alone, you unload your gear and settle down in a dark, dry cave, not far from a mountain creek. You sleep deeply, the sleep of a free man, the happiest you've been since childhood.
Weeks go by, and you have seen not a single soldier looking for you.
Months on, and the locals now come occasionally with questions about sickness and minor accidents that you can easily patch up. They have grown to admire and appreciate you, and you them. You all just want to be free.
Eventually you trade the jeep for goods to set up a more comfortable, permanent base in the cave. Why not? There's nothing else out there for you.