May 20 at 11:22 p.m.
Day by day hours and minutes are the same, everything is the same. Silence, shooting, explosions, silence. A daily routine that can be changed at any moment, and you live every day both as a moment and as a whole life. Because today’s rockets and shells were not meant for you. And so on every day.
If tomorrow comes, war will swallow you, even more, and you will be less afraid that it will take you.
Recently I’ve noticed that when I’m driving, for some damn reason some tank or artillery system starts to shoot somewhere nearby. I’m not winding myself up, don’t even care, but I don’t drive alone, I’m afraid for my fellow soldiers, I must take them to the gathering point or to the position and drive them back “home”. And our Nissan stalls in the middle of the field, it seems that everything is alright, but doesn’t want to drive for some reason… I press the gas, but the car doesn’t move. During the week we patched the wheel five times, once it was a bullet, another time — a shell fragment. Once I was changing a spare wheel as a shell’s been blasted — I’d just driven away from that spot, and a tree fell exactly there…
I can’t remember for how long we’ve been living in the basement… Maybe for 2 weeks. They say that we may move on soon, but we don’t want to. We’re all good here, safe. Cows come from the farm nearby, there’s no one to look after them. The russians shot some of those cows, maybe so that the locals wouldn’t have what to eat, then looted and bombed a part of the farm, now it smells awful there, and the survived cows walk around by the streets, from a village to village, towards the people…
Just a couple of hours… 27…
Today, at least in a dream, I’ll sit in my car and drive home.
I’ll go up to Chernechchyna.
My mother will be waiting for me on the doorstep.
I’m not complaining. Live, be happy, and we will care of your peace.
Happy Birthday to me!
Ukrainian Text by Marian Burak, translated into English by Ukrainianvancouver team — Jun 9, 2022