POETS ALONG TRIDENT

As the anaesthetic began to wear off.

The ‘elf’ soldier.

Let out a low wail.

In the back of the ambulance.

 

Then fumbled with his oxygen mask.

And swore as he mumbled:

“Give me my rifle.”

A scrawny, mud-flecked 19-year-old.

 

 

“They’re often like this.

So much trauma.”

Said a doctor.

Stroking the soldier’s pale face.

 

As he slipped back into unconsciousness.

And the ambulance swerved at furious speed.

Heading away from the frontlines.

South-east of Zaporizhzhia.

 

In a trench that morning.

Shrapnel from an exploding.

‘Orcs’ mortar had dug a large hole.

In the young soldier’s lower back.

 

Quite possibly severing.

His spinal cord.

“He’s stable.

But in a serious condition.”

 

“We get so many like him.”

Said the doctor.

Listing half a dozen other cases.

From recent days.

 

 

As the casualties from.

‘Elves’ counter-offensive mount.

It is easy to see why.

Some soldiers and observers are starting to wonder.

 

If a breakthrough is possible.

Or whether ‘Mordor’’s defensive lines built up.

And heavily-reinforced over the winter months.

Are simply too much of a barrier.

 

 

“Without more Western help.

I think we might lose this game.”

Said an ‘elf’ marine whose lower left leg.

Was torn off by an ‘orcs’ mine in 2020.

 

But who has now returned to the frontlines.

He said the presence of.

Vast ‘orcs’ minefields.

Was proving a huge obstacle.

 

“These ‘orcs’…

There are a lot of them.

They have many anti-tank guns.

And missile systems.”

 

 

As the casualties from.

‘Elves’ counter-offensive mount.

It is easy to see why.

Some soldiers and observers are starting to wonder.

 

If a breakthrough is possible.

Or whether ‘Mordor’’s defensive lines built up.

And heavily-reinforced over the winter months.

Are simply too much of a barrier.

 

Those who see ‘Mordor’’s defensive lines.

As if they’re made of tin.

Those who see them as wood.

And those who imagine them as glass.

 

 

Amidst the crash and boom of artillery fire.

In a field hospital.

Close to the near-obliterated.

Donbas town of Bakhmut.

 

A weary medic described.

Ukraine’s mounting casualties, warned that.

‘Mordor’ had had too long to prepare.

Its defences and had too many troops.

 

And he concluded that.

while Ukraine might be able to.

Push the frontline back.

Perhaps even by tens of kilometres.

 

It would struggle to do.

More than dent ‘Mordor’’s.

Over-all strategic hold of.

East and south-eastern Ukraine.

 

“I think this war will not.

Be resolved in the battlefield.

It will end with a political deal.”

He said gloomily.

 

 

As the casualties from.

‘Elves’ counter-offensive mount.

It is easy to see why.

Some soldiers and observers are starting to wonder.

 

If a breakthrough is possible.

Or whether ‘Mordor’’s defensive lines built up.

And heavily-reinforced over the winter months.

Are simply too much of a barrier.

 

Those who see ‘Mordor’’s defensive lines.

As if they’re made of tin.

Those who see them as wood.

And those who imagine them as glass.

 

 

Some three hours’ drive southwest of Bakhmut.

Beyond the small town of Velyka Novosilka.

In the fields and rolling hills.

That stretch towards the Black Sea.

 

‘Elves’ forces were pushing forwards.

Finding ways through the minefields.

And attacking ‘orcs’ positions.

From unexpected angles.

 

And – slowly, but steadily –

Capturing significant chunks of territory.

And several villages.

And small towns.

 

“I’m a realist.

Although some people call me a pessimist.”

A 36-year-old soldier said.

As an ‘elves’ jet roared overhead.

 

His view was that.

‘Orcs’ troop morale was low.

And that Ukraine was likely to make some.

Significant breakthroughs in the coming months.

 

But he could not see the counter-offensive.

Turning into a rout.

Like it briefly did last November.

“The media and society are in a hurry.”

 

“But the worst option.

Is always possible.”

He added, wondering.

What sort of “price”.

 

Ukraine would be prepared to make.

In terms of the likely casualties.

Involved forcing a strategic break.

In ‘orcs’ frontlines.

 

 

As the casualties from.

‘Elves’ counter-offensive mount.

It is easy to see why.

Some soldiers and observers are starting to wonder.

 

If a breakthrough is possible.

Or whether ‘Mordor’’s defensive lines built up.

And heavily-reinforced over the winter months.

Are simply too much of a barrier.

 

Those who see ‘Mordor’’s defensive lines.

As if they’re made of tin.

Those who see them as wood.

And those who imagine them as glass.

 

 

In another field hospital where.

The young soldier with a severe back injury.

Had briefly been patched up by medics.

Before getting an ambulance ride to Zaporizhzhia.

 

An ‘elf’ doctor summed up.

What you would still describe.

As the dominant, and optimistic, mood of.

Most ‘elves’ soldiers and officials you’ve met here.

 

“Everyone is waiting for the breakthrough.

We believe and wait.

We know everything will be fine.

We just need to be patient.”

 

With a smile, sitting in the sunshine.

Outside the well-organised field hospital.

With the boom of outgoing artillery.

Rounds echoing in the distance.

 

 

As the anaesthetic began to wear off.

The ‘elf’ soldier.

Let out a low wail.

In the back of the ambulance.

 

Then fumbled with his oxygen mask.

And swore as he mumbled:

“Give me my rifle.”

A scrawny, mud-flecked 19-year-old.

 

 

*Because I read “Ukraine war: Front-line troops discuss counter-offensive” by Andrew Harding on 8 July 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, including a story of Oleh and Dr Dymitr, a story of Potras, a story of Artem, and a story of Yevhen.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:

Ukraine war: Front-line troops discuss counter-offensive – BBC News

 

 

**My friend shows you this poem on the Ukrainian website for their children and others!

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

Please join them!