Dmitrii Mikhal’tsev

HUMAN BATTERING RAM

Silently moves the recon unit; the mountains look gloomy.
The wind in the ravine sings; the fittings creaked with doom,
Soon we will reach the destination for our mission but without glee.
Our task is to seal off the crossing-place, you see.

Suddenly a machine-gun clatters, the air explodes with screams.
The town was raked from above while evil laughed it seemed.
The platoon was scattered by the firing, the guys clung to the rocks.
We didn’t all leave in the end; the bullets cut us down, the shock.

Over the battle hovered a helicopter, the propeller creating a dust-bowl.
The pilot returned to the unit, tired with the task was his soul.
Having seen such a battle, he decided to help the guys below before hope passed.
And discharged all his ammunition
at those who were raking him and his comrades with bullets to the last.

As the machine guns fell silent, the platoon managed to dig itself in.
And all who sat in the ravine managed to clamber ahead, hoping for a final win.
But they shot the helicopter down, though it was still possible to hold out, not too late.
Hiding his conscience, he left his men to their fate.

And full of anger and wounds,
The pilot cracked his teeth
And became the ram himself along the ground,
Closing the crossing with his own life…