POETS INSEPARABLE

He had been fighting.

For 200 hours without a break.

When he was killed by an ‘orc’ sniper.

In the city of Bakhmut.

 

“For eight days.

He did not eat, or sleep.

He couldn’t even close his eyes for five minutes.

Because the sniper could shoot.”

 

There’s a reason why.

She now calls Bakhmut “hell”.

It’s the city that took the life of one son.

And left her only other child seriously injured.

 

Her one scant comfort.

That one died saving the life of the other.

The two brothers were inseparable.

Fighting and resting together at the front.

 

 

Does he now regret?

His decision to join the army?

“We understood that.

We might not return.”

 

“But it’s an honour.

To fight for Ukraine.

That’s why I don’t regret it.

In any way.”

 

“My brother gave his life.

For our freedom.

Unfortunately.

Freedom comes with blood.”

 

 

The two brothers volunteered to fight.

When ‘Mordor’ invaded Ukraine last year.

At the time he was 22 years old.

And the younger brother just 18.

 

Still carrying the scars.

The younger says they were inseparable.

“He was always with me and I with him.

For me, he was the dearest person.”

 

Videos and photos show them together.

In a trench.

In a military vehicle.

Trying to get some rest.

 

As time passes, you see.

Two smiling, handsome young men change.

Gradually appearing wearier.

As war strips away their innocence.

 

 

Does he now regret?

His decision to join the army?

“We understood that.

We might not return.”

 

“But it’s an honour.

To fight for Ukraine.

That’s why I don’t regret it.

In any way.”

 

“My brother gave his life.

For our freedom.

Unfortunately.

Freedom comes with blood.”

 

 

Their last moments together.

Were spent engaged.

In brutal house-to-house fighting.

In Bakhmut.

 

“It was impossible to sleep there.

We were being attacked 24/7.”

The brothers’ unit was trapped.

In a windowless room of a building.

 

They’d had to punch through walls.

To make firing positions.

That’s when they received.

An order to pull back.

 

“I remember I was reloading;

I came out from behind a wall.

And there was a flash.

I was paralysed and I fell.”

 

He then felt the warmth.

Of the blood flowing.

From his injuries to his face.

He didn’t think he’d survive.

 

“I thought I was done;

I’ll bleed out and that’ll be it.”

But his brother came.

Running to his rescue.

 

And dragged him back.

Inside a building for cover.

“He revived me.

Took out my broken teeth.”

 

“And began to give me first aid.”

That included piercing a hole.

In his throat to prevent him.

From choking.

 

In a video.

His brother tenderly wipes.

The blood away.

Soon after the explosion.

 

Another clip shows him.

Struggling to walk.

With a gaping wound.

To his face.

 

But still clutching.

His ‘elves’ flag:

A symbol of bravery and resistance.

In the battle for Bakhmut.

 

He has no doubts.

That he would have died.

If it weren’t.

For his brother’s actions.

 

“My brother didn’t let me die.

He saved me.”

His brother urgently called.

On the radio for help.

 

But the first medics that tried to reach him.

Were all killed in their vehicle.

When it was struck.

By an ‘orcs’ anti-tank missile.

 

It took another nine hours.

Before he could be rescued.

And then came his brother’s extraordinary act.

Of self-sacrifice.

 

Rather than travel.

With him to safety.

His brother volunteered to stay in Bakhmut.

To lead their unit.

 

Still fighting there.

A week later.

His brother was killed.

By an ‘orc’ sniper.

 

 

Does he now regret?

His decision to join the army?

“We understood that.

We might not return.”

 

“But it’s an honour.

To fight for Ukraine.

That’s why I don’t regret it.

In any way.”

 

“My brother gave his life.

For our freedom.

Unfortunately.

Freedom comes with blood.”

 

 

In Ukraine.

The funerals of soldiers are.

Now as constant as the sound.

Of artillery on the front line.

 

But they’re not all like his.

Alongside his grieving family.

The entire town of Tomakivka.

Had come out to pay their respects.

 

They knelt.

As the funeral procession.

Made its way.

To the cemetery.

 

Some clasping flowers.

Or Ukraine’s flag.

The prayers and sombre music.

Accompanied by tears and sobbing.

 

For the past year.

The two brothers’ parents.

had been living.

Their sons’ battles vicariously.

 

They were having sleepless nights too.

Waiting anxiously.

To hear from their boys.

They’d often receive a short text.

 

To reassure them.

– “We’re good, mum.”

But then came the news.

They’d been dreading.

 

His mother weeps over his coffin.

Before it’s finally lowered.

Into the ground.

Accompanied by a volley of gunfire.

 

“We still can’t believe it.

My soul is torn.”

His mother says.

After the funeral.

 

She says.

Her only reason.

To continue living is.

For her younger son.

 

He had the chance.

To leave with his younger brother.

But he would not abandon.

Their younger, less experienced comrades.

 

“He’s a hero. He’s an angel.

He’s sunshine.

He would never leave his brother.

Even though he knew he would die himself.”

 

 

Does he now regret?

His decision to join the army?

“We understood that.

We might not return.”

 

“But it’s an honour.

To fight for Ukraine.

That’s why I don’t regret it.

In any way.”

 

“My brother gave his life.

For our freedom.

Unfortunately.

Freedom comes with blood.”

 

 

Ukraine won’t say.

How many lives.

Have been lost.

In this war.

 

But look around the cemetery.

And you soon realise.

The entire country is paying.

An extremely heavy price.

 

At this one small graveyard.

In this one small town.

There are rows and rows of freshly dug graves.

Surrounded by flowers.

 

His was one of three soldiers’ funerals.

The local priest was conducting that week.

“You often have to bury soldiers.

But not your friends.”

 

The priest was once himself a soldier.

Before taking holy orders.

It was harder than most.

The priest is a family friend.

 

And the priest prayed.

With the two brothers’ parents.

For the safe return of their boys.

Whom he knew.

 

 

Does he now regret?

His decision to join the army?

“We understood that.

We might not return.”

 

“But it’s an honour.

To fight for Ukraine.

That’s why I don’t regret it.

In any way.”

 

“My brother gave his life.

For our freedom.

Unfortunately.

Freedom comes with blood.”

 

 

At the funeral.

He is still clutching.

The ‘elves’ flag.

Which he carried when wounded.

 

Signed by his comrades.

Including his brother.

The blood from his own wounds.

Staining the blue and yellow cloth.

 

 

*Because I read “Ukraine war: ‘My brother saved my life – but lost his own’” by Jonathan Beale, Tomakivka on 25 May 2023, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of Maksym, Ivan, Lilia, Serhii and Roman.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:

Ukraine war: ‘My brother saved my life – but lost his own’ – BBC News

 

 

**My friend shows you this poem with another my poem together also on the Ukrainian website for their children and others!

Kurama (Japan). «Poets inseparable» — a poem about war in Ukraine – Мала Сторінка (storinka.org)

Please join them!