“I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out of this one, mate,” Rod spoke to me in hushed tones, his eyes glazed, his face illuminated by the eerie glow of a single light.
Silence dominated the farmhouse.
All the other soldiers were asleep. Or at least they were supposed to be. I can imagine that one or two were still up, staring at the ceiling, hearing every word of their dark fate dribble drunkenly from Rod’s lips. Of course, he wasn’t really drunk. He was just blowing off steam. The weight of the world had been thrust upon his shoulders suddenly. Now he was just another man dealing with the curse of being given everything he ever wished for.
Rod and I sat at the kitchen table, empty cans of Cherry Revo scattered about.
“Well, I mean you’ve made it out of worse before,” I told him.
“I couldn’t say this in front of the guys, but this is different,” Rod spoke seriously. “I've been to Mariupol, Bakhmut, more places than I can count. I’ve been shot, blown up, almost killed loads of times. And all of those times I thought I was gonna make it out. But I’m not so sure this time.”
His last words were a whisper.
“What makes it different?” I asked.
“Numbers. We’ve got word that more Russians are reinforcing the position. I can’t tell the guys this, but we’re outnumbered 17:1,” Rod paused a moment to let the figure sink in. “I’ve always been outnumbered here, 5:1, 3:1, 2:1, and I’ve always made it work. Because I’ve had to. But I can’t do everything. If they decide to charge us with everything they’ve got, we’re dead.”
I felt a pang of guilt for being able to know before the other guys. I wondered if any of them were listening, but ultimately I was too enthralled in the conversation to care.
“Some of these guys are already anxious. Some of them don’t have any real battlefield experience. And now the GRAD rockets have hit our Ukrainian counterparts there, so we might be told to head out to the front at any moment,” Rod shook his head in exasperation. “I haven’t even gotten a chance to train with most of them.”
Rod took a long sip of Revo.
“So they don’t even know they’re headed out in 2 days?” I asked.
“A couple of them do, but I’m not telling any of them until it’s time to head out. I don’t want to add to their anxiety. I need them focused on the moment,” Rod explained.
“So much for the two weeks of training,” I mused.
“Sorry about all this mate. We were all looking forward to working on that documentary. But the situation has changed,” Rod grimaced with guilt.
“Don’t worry man. It’s the Russians’ fault,” I grinned.
“The fuckin’ Russians,” Rod repeated.
We clinked our cans together.
“I think it’s time for a smoke,” I told him.
“Alright, let’s go,” he agreed.
Outside the farmhouse, we had to keep the lights low, for fear of being sighted by enemy drones. The farmhouse had been controlled by the Russians and used as a forward base in the exact same manner just a year before, until being liberated by Ukrainian forces. The Russians had apparently executed some civilians there in the early days of 2022.
We walked over to the shed to light up in the darkness.
“The commander wants to take you back tomorrow, but I’m gonna try to swing for you to stay here one more night. I’ll tell him that since we’re going back to the village on Sunday, we should bring you back then. Maybe I’ll make an excuse that I wasn’t able to take you back or something,” Rod suggested.
“Yea, I mean I’ll take all the time out here I can get,” I nodded in the dark.
“I just feel fuckin’ terrible that you came all the way out here, only for this shit to happen,” Rod sulked.
“Don’t worry about it man. You got enough real shit to worry about. My shit doesn’t even come close,” I soothingly said.
“The commander feels bad about it too,” Rod explained. “He was asking me what we could do. I think I’ll pay for you for a couple days in a hostel, then get you a train back to Kyiv.”
I took a long drag of my Lucky Strike, its cherry ember slightly illuminating my face.
“Maybe I’ll do some interviews of soldiers in the area and do a little tour of towns that are open near the front,” I figured.
“This is the closest you’ll ever get to the frontline, at least for right now,” Rod informed me.
“How far are we again?” I asked.
“12 kilometers, so like 7-and-a-half miles,” Rod calculated.
“Hmmm, well that’s cool I guess,” I shrugged.
“Actually, I think the commander said that you’re officially closer to the front than any other unaccredited civilian has been so far,” Rod told me.
“Yea, I mean I’m just honored to be here,” I spoke sincerely.
“Don’t worry, mate. If you keep doing what you’re doing, something will work out,” Rod reassured me.
We went back inside the farmhouse.
Rod rang up his missus.
“How you doin’, my love?” she asked over the screen.
“Pretty good. Zane’s here with me,” Rod yawned.
“Hiiii!” I waved in the screen.
“Oh, that’s good,” she responded.
“Well, it’s not good, because the documentary’s canceled, and now we’re going to the front on Monday. It’s gonna get hot here very soon,” Rod grimly explained the situation.
“Well as long as you survive till our wedding,” she teased him.
“You just want my money,” he joked.
“Yea, I want your money. I’ve already had to put up with all your shit without a ring on my finger!” She laughed.
“Don’t you start. I’m the one who has to put up with the stress of basically being a married man for 5 years!” Rod clapped back.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever heard of in the entire world who’s fighting in a war to pay for his wedding!” I shook my head laughing.
“You couldn’t write that up!” Rod laughed.
“Where are you getting married again?” I asked.
“At Henry VIII’s old state house. It’s quite nice,” Rod responded.
“Oh yes, it’s lovely,” his missus agreed.
“Lovely and expensive,” Rod mocked her in a fake childish voice.
“Well, you’re the one paying for it,” she declared.
“What do you think I’m doin’ here, love?” Rod rhetorically replied.
“Killing Russians,” I interjected.
“You shut the f*ck up,” he pointed at me with a giggle.
The noise issue was clearly no longer on anyone’s mind.
“No, but honestly, I should write a story in the Daily Mail or something about your wedding at some point,” I explained. “It’s just f*cking unbelievable.”
Rod laughed.
“Okay Darling, I’m going to have to let you go now. I love you,” the missus ended with emphasis.
“I love you too, my lovely,” Rod told her.
The phone call ended.
“She understands. I could die any day. Do you think she’s not used to this by now? I’ve been fighting for YEARS, mate,” he explained.
“Well, almost 2 years,” I pointed out.
“Exactly. That’s how long it’s been. Tell me it doesn’t feel that long? Honestly bruv, it feels like I’ve been in this country for a long f*cking time,” he emphasized.
“Yea, I mean I left for a year, and you were still here fighting. Everybody we know is gone, but you’re still here,” I told him.
Rod drunkenly thought about it for a second.
“Yea… everyone else is gone. I’m the last one here, mate. I’ve basically been home for 3 or 4 months in the last 2 years,” Rod reiterated reverently.
“That’s pretty crazy,” I admitted.
“So believe me when I say that this one is different. It just feels different,” Rod spoke suddenly serious. “I’ve had a lot of cat lives, bruv. I’m just usin’ ‘em all up. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this before the shit comes back to get me.”
Silence filled the air for a moment after his words.
I shook my head, “This shit’s so f*cking crazy.”
We kept sipping Revo and talking for a while longer before passing out.
I had the best sleep of my life.
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