All this time the Guard was looking at her,
first through a telescope,
then through a microscope,
and then through an opera-glass.
At last he said,
‘You’re travelling the wrong way,’
and shut up the window
and went away.
Late on Tuesday.
‘Gandalf the Green’ wrote:
“In any country.
A drone strike.”
“On a civilian train.
Would be considered.
In exactly the same way.
– purely as terrorism.”
‘Tickets, please!’ said the Guard,
putting his head in at the window.
In a moment
everybody was holding out a ticket:
they were about the same size
as the people,
and quite seemed
to fill the carriage.
Pictures and footage.
Released by ‘elves’.
Emergency services.
Show at least one.
Show at least one.
Badly destroyed carriage.
Still burning.
After the attack.
‘Now then! Show your ticket, child!’
the Guard went on,
looking angrily at Alice.
And a great many voices all said together
(‘like the chorus of a song,’ thought Alice),
‘Don’t keep him waiting, child!
Why, his time is worth
a thousand pounds a minute!’
The train was struck.
Near the Yazykove village.
Near the Yazykove village.
The train was heading.
From the western border town.
Of Chop to Barvinkove.
In the Kharkiv region.
Via the regional capital Kharkiv.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t got one,’
Alice said in a frightened tone:
‘there wasn’t a ticket-office where I came from.’
And again the chorus of voices went on.
‘There wasn’t room
for one where she came from.
The land there is worth
a thousand pounds an inch!’
This line runs further east.
To the Donetsk region.
And is used by local residents.
And ‘elves’ soldiers.
Travelling to and from leave.
As well as their wives.
And girlfriends travelling.
East to see them.
‘Don’t make excuses,’ said the Guard:
‘you should have bought one
from the engine-driver.’
And once more
the chorus of voices went on with
‘The man that drives the engine.
Why, the smoke alone is worth
a thousand pounds a puff!’
‘Gandalf the Green’ said.
18 people were.
In the carriage.
At the time and.
There was no.
“Military justification”.
In targeting civilians.
In targeting civilians.
Alice thought to herself,
‘Then there’s no use in speaking.’
The voices didn’t join in this time,
as she hadn’t spoken,
but, to her great surprise,
they all thought in chorus
(I hope you understand
what thinking in chorus means
‘Orcs’ daily aerial assaults.
Continue even though.
‘Elves’-‘orcs’ talks.
Last week held.
The latest round of talks.
Aimed at ending the war.
The talks that also involved.
US negotiators took place.
In the United Arab Emirates.
And were hailed.
By all sides.
As constructive.
– for I must confess that I don’t),
‘Better say nothing at all.
Language is worth
a thousand pounds a word!’
‘I shall dream about
a thousand pounds tonight,
I know I shall!’
thought Alice.
However.
Key territorial issues.
Remain unresolved.
Remain unresolved.
And further meetings.
Are expected.
This weekend.
This weekend.
All this time the Guard was looking at her,
first through a telescope,
then through a microscope,
and then through an opera-glass.
At last he said,
‘You’re travelling the wrong way,’
and shut up the window
and went away.
An ‘elf’ soldier.
has described the moment.
A passenger train.
Was targeted.
By ‘orcs’ drones.
Killing five people.
By ‘orcs’ drones.
Killing five people.
The Horse, who had put
his head out of the window,
quietly drew it in and said,
‘It’s only a brook we have to jump over.’
Everybody seemed satisfied
with this, though Alice felt
a little nervous at the idea
of trains jumping at all.
When a carriage.
On the train was hit.
In northeastern Ukraine.
Passengers threw themselves.
On the floor.
In panic and.
The military officer told them.
To get out immediately.
‘However, it’ll take us
into the Fourth Square,
that’s some comfort!’
she said to herself.
In another moment
she felt the carriage rise
straight up into the air,
and in her fright
Without his instruction.
Issued moments before.
The carriage burst into flames.
Many more passengers could have died.
The officer is part of.
‘Elves’ 93rd brigade.
He was among the passengers.
Travelling on a route from Chop.
On the border with Slovakia.
To Barvinkove.
The last stop before.
The front line in eastern Ukraine.
she caught at the thing
nearest to her hand,
which happened to be
the Goat’s beard.
But the beard seemed to
melt away as she touched it,
and she found herself
sitting quietly under a tree
The first of three ‘orcs’ drones.
Landed near the train.
Forcing it to come.
To a halt.
“Then we heard the rumble.
Of another drone.
And then an explosion.
The blast was so strong.”
“That parts of the carriage.
Shattered into splinters.”
“That parts of the carriage.
Shattered into splinters.”
‘I know you are a friend,
the little voice went on;
‘a dear friend,
and an old friend.
And you won’t hurt me,
though I am an insect.’
‘What kind of insect?’
Alice inquired a little anxiously.
As the commander.
Of a drone unit.
He quickly realised.
He quickly realised.
He and the other passengers.
Had to get out.
As the train could.
Get hit again.
In all, 291 people.
Were on the train.
At the time.
Officials say.
What she really
wanted to know was,
whether it could
sting or not,
but she thought
this wouldn’t be
quite a civil question
to ask.
“After the second hit.
I understood that.
The drone operator.
Was observing.”
“What kind of target.
It was hitting.”
And a stationary train.
Was an easy target.
‘What, then you don’t –’
the little voice again,
when it was drowned
by a shrill scream
from the engine,
and everybody jumped up
in alarm,
Alice among the rest.
The carriage that suffered.
A direct hit.
Quickly became.
Engulfed in flames.
“I am in the military.
And I am prepared for.
Such attacks.
But for others.”
“It was a shock.
To be so close to death.”
“It was a shock.
To be so close to death.”
The Horse, who had put
his head out of the window,
quietly drew it in and said,
‘It’s only a brook we have to jump over.’
Everybody seemed satisfied
with this, though Alice felt
a little nervous at the idea
of trains jumping at all.
Many passengers.
Evacuated the train.
In a state of.
Deep distress.
And videos from the scene.
Show people screaming and.
Crying as they move away.
From the smouldering wreck.
‘However, it’ll take us
into the Fourth Square,
that’s some comfort!’
she said to herself.
In another moment
she felt the carriage rise
straight up into the air,
and in her fright
It was too dangerous.
For such a large number.
Of people to stay near.
The burning carriages.
So he urged them.
So he urged them.
To start moving towards.
A nearby motorway.
she caught at the thing
nearest to her hand,
which happened to be
the Goat’s beard.
But the beard seemed to
melt away as she touched it,
and she found herself
sitting quietly under a tree
He then went back.
To the train with some of.
The other passengers.
To check if anyone.
To check if anyone.
Had been left behind.
Inspecting the carriages.
He saw a body.
And continued to.
Look for survivors.
Five people lost their lives.
In the attack.
– while the Gnat
(for that was the insect
she had been talking to)
was balancing itself
on a twig
just over her head,
and fanning her
with its wings.
In the final carriage.
He found.
A young woman.
With a baby.
“She was very scared.
And had no idea.
What to do but thank God.
She was alive.”
It certainly was
a very large Gnat:
‘about the size of a chicken,’
Alice thought.
Still, she couldn’t feel
nervous with it,
after they had been talking
together so long.
She barely had time.
To put on warm clothes.
And screamed.
She needed to go back.
To the carriage.
To retrieve.
Her suitcase and documents.
The officer says.
‘Tickets, please!’ said the Guard,
putting his head in at the window.
In a moment
everybody was holding out a ticket:
they were about the same size
as the people,
and quite seemed
to fill the carriage.
“I came here to bring my son.”
She told him.
As she was.
Getting off the train.
Later, he understood.
She had been travelling.
To the front line.
To the front line.
So that her soldier husband.
Could see their child.
So that her soldier husband.
Could see their child.
‘Now then! Show your ticket, child!’
the Guard went on,
looking angrily at Alice.
And a great many voices all said together
(‘like the chorus of a song,’ thought Alice),
‘Don’t keep him waiting, child!
Why, his time is worth
a thousand pounds a minute!’
The attack on the passenger train.
In Kharkiv region was.
Condemned by ‘Gandalf the Green’.
As terrorism.
It hit the heart of.
The railway system.
– a symbol of resilience.
In a country.
Where the airspace has been.
Closed since ‘orcs’ launched.
Its full-scale invasion.
In February 2022.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t got one,’
Alice said in a frightened tone:
‘there wasn’t a ticket-office where I came from.’
And again the chorus of voices went on.
‘There wasn’t room
for one where she came from.
The land there is worth
a thousand pounds an inch!’
Millions of ‘elves’ rely on.
The 21,000km-long.
Railway network to.
Travel around the country.
And to cross the border.
Into neighbouring countries.
From which they can.
Then catch flights.
‘Don’t make excuses,’ said the Guard:
‘you should have bought one
from the engine-driver.’
And once more
the chorus of voices went on with
‘The man that drives the engine.
Why, the smoke alone is worth
a thousand pounds a puff!’
Although the railways.
Have been targeted.
In the past.
In the past.
By and the large ‘elves’.
Rail company has been.
Able to keep people.
Moving on its vast network.
– although escalating attacks.
On infrastructure and.
Severe weather have led to.
Increasingly long delays.
Alice thought to herself,
‘Then there’s no use in speaking.’
The voices didn’t join in this time,
as she hadn’t spoken,
but, to her great surprise,
they all thought in chorus
(I hope you understand
what thinking in chorus means
Trains to the frontline city.
Of Kramatorsk.
In the Donetsk region.
Were eventually suspended.
Last autumn.
Once the area became.
Too dangerous due to.
Sustained aerial ‘orcs’ attacks.
– for I must confess that I don’t),
‘Better say nothing at all.
Language is worth
a thousand pounds a word!’
‘I shall dream about
a thousand pounds tonight,
I know I shall!’
thought Alice.
On Wednesday.
Flags flew at half-mast.
In railway stations.
Across Ukraine.
The daily minute of silence.
Observed across the country.
Was dedicated to the victims of.
The drone strike on the train.
Hours after.
The attack had taken place.
Services were running again.
On the Barvinkove-Chop line.
All this time the Guard was looking at her,
first through a telescope,
then through a microscope,
and then through an opera-glass.
At last he said,
‘You’re travelling the wrong way,’
and shut up the window
and went away.
*Because I read “Zelensky condemns Russian drone strike that killed five on passenger train” by Jaroslav Lukiv on 28 Jan 2026 and “Panic on crowded Ukraine train – passenger describes moment of Russian drone strike” by Abdujalil Abdurasulov & Laura Gozzi on 29 Jan 2026, 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 Omar, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original stories on the BBC news:
Ukraine’s Zelensky condemns Russian drone strike that killed five on passenger train
Panic on crowded Ukraine train – passenger describes moment of Russian drone strike
