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I have decided to start sipping absinthe on the rocks when listening to your reports. It is a reflection on the quality of your reports. They are way, way too accurate and, ergo, frightening as a zombie apocalypse to anyone paying attention. I would love to look away, but I can’t. It is too deep in my psyche. Thank you for.....reality based reporting. It seems like faint praise. It is most certainly not. May your wife’s family in Crimea remain safe.

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Thanks for the update! Greatly appreciated, as always. Best wishes from So. Cal, US.

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Ukraine causalities now more than tripled since their Bahkmut debacle and 9 month meat grinder; currently over 1,000 causalities suffered per day since the current 14 day “Offensive to Common Sense”. All of Ukraine is being sacrificed in this hideous NATO-US proxy war vs Russia.

“The Charge of the Light Brigade is a poem about senseless slaughter in battle, human waves against cannons during the Crimean War in 1854.

Some of the British advisors to Zelensky, who are of course romantics and poets at heart, got a bit confused. Rather than a lament, apparently they mistook it for a battle plan.”

The Charge of the Light Brigade

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I

Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

“Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns!” he said.

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

II

“Forward, the Light Brigade!”

Was there a man dismayed?

Not though the soldier knew

Someone had blundered.

Theirs not to make reply,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and die.

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

III

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

Boldly they rode and well,

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of hell

Rode the six hundred.

IV

Flashed all their sabres bare,

Flashed as they turned in air

Sabring the gunners there,

Charging an army, while

All the world wondered.

Plunged in the battery-smoke

Right through the line they broke;

Cossack and Russian

Reeled from the sabre stroke

Shattered and sundered.

Then they rode back, but not

Not the six hundred.

V

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell.

They that had fought so well

Came through the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

VI

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wondered.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade,

Noble six hundred!

Two Majors

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