From the FB page of Olena Bladhzieva

June 29

(Translation)

Off to the field late at night.
The team dig in and prepare positions for mortars.
Everyone has their own shovel.
First set mortars, put on target, unpacked shells and started digging.
The top layer of soil came easy. Later, the starry black land ran out. Next to the dry solid ground.
Next to the brothers, it’s a pity that the shovel is very uncomfortable. Switched up. Now I have a short handle. I get on my knee and sink in every centimeter. Ball by ball.
From time to time I lie down at full height in the pit to measure the depth. Legs bent at knees, left shoulder on the surface. It’s a lie!

If you want to live, dig deeper and longer.

Inadvertently recalling my measured office life.
4 months ago, I was sitting in a comfortable chair, and as I should drive a car to a shoot or fly by plane. Sometimes makeup, suit and all. I catch myself thinking that it’s all some sur, but I understand that there is no way back.

Digging …

Cutting through the roots with a sharp pike. The force is getting less and less. Didn’t sleep for a day, ate the day before yesterday. Running out of water. Dehydration.

Going back to try on the size of the pit, this time it’s good. The whole hull is below the surface of the earth, the feet are exactly.

Turned over for the sign. Looking up into the skies.
There’s an unknown number of stars. I wonder how they are doing there? Those in heaven and those on earth. Relatives, beloved, loved ones. Me right now in between everyone.
Neither there nor here. In between the worlds.

My trench outside looks like a grave yard. A hole in the ground for a body. Two meters long and a half wide. The positions are ready for battle.

Dawn comes…

I need to get up . Making a run to the landing.
There are less noticeable ones.

Got smoked…

It’s been a bit dry in the throat. The tongue is like a dry land. He remembered how late grandfather Peter told that during World War II soldiers suffered from thirst. As seen in the middle of the road zamulen puddle, we drank from it. I didn’t believe the little ones. But I would drink at least one right now.

The sun goes down suddenly. Burns the steppe, looks into every crevice and anxiously announces the start of a new day. The storm will begin at once
Orcs sat one and a half miles away. Our task is to cover the infantry with dense and accurate fire.
Guys walk carefully, everyone holds their sector. Everything is like in the movies. A single art at work.

Me, meanwhile, looking for signs of dew on the tree leaves. They are gone. Suddenly, someone is quietly calling. A whole bottle of water in a neighboring mouth!
We greedyly swallow the liquid one by one and so that part flows down the beard and cold drops pour under the clothes.
The body reflexively shrinks, and then relaxes on the contrary. It seems that the body is ready to absorb moisture even with skin.
How delicious is this!
A little bit of recovery and moving forward. Later I learned that the water was drawn from a nearby swamp lake, where frogs quack and shells fly.
Yeah it’s not a puddle but.. I looked at the sky again, grandpa smiled.
We understand each other now.

We’re going to win!
Miroslav Otkovich

One comment

  1. “As seen in the middle of the road zamulen puddle, we drank from it.”

    Thirst can be a terrible thing. I once drank from a puddle on Ft. Campbell. Anyhow, reading this made me want to drink cold, fresh water!

    “We’re going to win!”

    Yes!

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