‘I know they’re talking nonsense,’
Alice thought to herself:
‘and it’s foolish
to cry about it.’
So she brushed away her tears,
and went on
as cheerfully as she could,
‘At any rate
I’d better be getting out
of the wood,
for really it’s coming on
very dark.
Do you think it’s going to rain?’
Tweedledum spread
a large umbrella over
himself and his brother,
As the evening light.
Ebbed away a handful of.
‘Elves’ troops emerged.
From the treeline.
To face an unequal fight.
To face an unequal fight.
Their mission.
– to shoot down.
21st Century killer drones.
With weapons.
Designed in the dying days.
Of World War One.
In ‘elves’ north-eastern region.
Of Sumy.
Bordering ‘Mordor’.
This is a nightly battle.
Just after you joined the troops.
There was danger in the skies.
And tension and adrenaline.
On the ground.
‘If that there King was to wake,’
added Tweedledum,
‘you’d go out – bang! –
just like a candle!’
‘I shouldn’t!’
Alice exclaimed indignantly.
‘Besides, if I’m only
a sort of thing
The commander was glued.
To a screen showing.
Clusters of red dots.
Each indicating.
An Iranian-designed Shahed drone.
One of ‘orcs’ key weapons.
By early evening.
There were already 30.
There were already 30.
In the skies over Sumy.
And the neighbouring region.
Of Chernihiv.
‘I shouldn’t!’
Alice exclaimed indignantly.
‘Besides, if I’m only
a sort of thing
in his dream,
what are you,
I should like to know?’
‘Ditto,’ said Tweedledum.
Two flatbed trucks.
Were driven out.
Into a clearing.
Into a clearing.
– on the back of each.
A heavy machine gun.
And a gunner.
Scanning the skies.
The trucks were flanked.
By troops.
Light machine guns.
At the ready.
‘Ditto, ditto!’ cried Tweedledee.
He shouted this
so loud that Alice
couldn’t help saying,
‘Hush! You’ll be
waking him,
I’m afraid,
if you make so much noise.’
You could hear.
The whirring of.
The propellers before.
You could see the drone.
– barely visible as it sliced.
Through the sky.
The troops opened fire.
– all guns blazing in unison –
But the drone disappeared.
Into the distance.
These low-cost long-range weapons.
Are terrorising Ukraine.
As often in war.
There were flashes of humour.
“You’ll know when.
The next drone is coming.”
“When that short guy.
Gets nervous.”
Said the commander.
Pointing at one of his team.
‘Well, it’s no use your talking
about waking him,’
said Tweedledum,
‘when you’re only
one of the things
in his dream.
You know very well
you’re not real.’
As darkness closed in.
The drones kept coming.
And the troops kept trying.
– sending tracer fire.
Streaking across the sky.
But how do they feel?
When these suicide drones?
Get through?
“Well, it’s not very good.”
He says sombrely, glancing away.
“You feel a slight sadness.
But to be honest.”
“- as you have seen –
You don’t have time.
For emotions.
One comes in.”
“And another can come.
Right behind it.
You work in this rhythm.
If it’s taken down.”
“- good, if not, you know.
There are other teams.
Behind you who will.
Also engage it.”
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘You won’t make yourself
a bit realler by crying,’
Tweedledee remarked:
‘there’s nothing to cry about.’
He and his men are.
A “mobile fire unit”.
From ‘elves’ 117.
Territorial Defence Brigade.
– all locals.
Trying to defend.
Not just their hometown.
But their country.
Most ‘orcs’ drones.
Fly through this region.
And deeper into Ukraine.
“They come in massive waves.”
“Often flying.
At different altitudes.
When there is heavy cloud cover.
They fly above the clouds.”
“And we can’t see them.
And it’s very hard.
To detect them.
When it’s raining.”
A hundred Shahed drones.
A hundred Shahed drones.
A night is standard.
For Sumy.
‘If I wasn’t real,’ Alice said
– half-laughing through her tears,
it all seemed so ridiculous –
‘I shouldn’t be able to cry.’
‘I hope you don’t suppose
those are real tears?’
Tweedledum interrupted
in a tone of great contempt.
His unit includes.
A farmer.
(“now I do something else.
In the fields,” he jokes).
And a builder.
The commander himself is.
A former forest ranger.
And mixed martial arts fighter.
Now he fights an enemy.
He can barely see.
He can barely see.
“It’s the same thing.”
“Every single day.
Over and over again.
For us, it’s just like.
Groundhog Day.”
‘I know they’re talking nonsense,’
Alice thought to herself:
‘and it’s foolish
to cry about it.’
So she brushed away her tears,
and went on
as cheerfully as she could,
‘At any rate
“The worst thing is that.
Years are passing by.”
Adds the builder.
“And we have no idea.”
“How long all this is.
Going to last”.
“How long all this is.
Going to last”.
Many of the drones.
In the skies over Sumy.
That night were headed.
For the capital, Kyiv.
The commander and.
His men knew it.
So did you.
The knowledge was chilling.
So she brushed away her tears,
and went on
as cheerfully as she could,
‘At any rate
I’d better be getting out
of the wood,
for really it’s coming on
very dark.
An air raid alert warned.
The residents of Kyiv.
Of incoming drones.
‘Mordor’ aimed more than 300.
At the capital overnight.
According to the ‘elves’ air force.
Trying to overwhelm.
Its air defences.
By morning six locations.
Had been hit.
And the victims were being reclaimed.
From the rubble.
In the days that followed.
The death toll climbed to 30.
In ‘elves’ fourth summer.
Of full-scale war.
The fields around Sumy are.
Dotted with corn and sunflowers.
Not yet in bloom.
And a crop of dragon’s teeth.
And a crop of dragon’s teeth.
– triangles of concrete.
Which can stop tanks.
In their tracks.
Do you think it’s going to rain?’
Tweedledum spread
a large umbrella over
himself and his brother,
and looked up into it.
‘No, I don’t think it is,’
he said: ‘at least
– not under here. Nohow.’
‘But it may rain outside?’
‘It may – if it chooses,’
said Tweedledee:
‘we’ve no objection.
Contrariwise.’
‘Selfish things!’ thought Alice,
and she was just going to say
‘Good-night’ and leave them,
*Because I read “’It’s Groundhog Day’: Ukraine’s sky defenders stuck in relentless battle” by Orla Guerin on 5 Jul 2025, 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 Jaeger and Kurban, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
