Apologies if this month’s Insecure Writer’s Support Group post seems ‘off-theme’, but I will get to the point… eventually. First, I must unburden myself.
“How much longer have we? We’ve so much to share. Evading death takes a miracle.”
On Sunday October 23rd, I was rushed to hospital with severe abdominal pains, which had me screaming in agony. The emergency medics were unable to identify the problem beyond suspecting some sort of blockage, from their initial tests – and my constipation for five days.
A nasogastric tube was inserted through my nose, down through my throat, and into my stomach, to remove whatever might be obstructing my intestines.
More pain. More medication.
I was taken to a room on the medical/surgical floor, pending further tests and prior to any surgery. Overnight, gunk was sucked out via the NG tube, and the worst of the pain subsided. A CT scan revealed a section of my upper intestine twisted around itself, but at this stage my doctor (surgeon) and I felt cautious about operating given various factors, not least my age, existing medical conditions – MS and leukemia – and my minimal but positive progress since admission.
By Wednesday, I had finally shit and my abdominal pain was minimal. But worried about a possible surgery still being needed, I had asked my Hospice chaplain to visit. His visit was more a chance to discuss what I still had to finish, than confess to decades of sin.
Publishing at least one more book must be one task to complete.
His prayer encompassed both paths, Heaven and more Time. And hence the miracle unfolded.
A second CT scan showed the twisted gut had cleared. The doctor said my progress had made surgery less necessary, although why the gut had twisted remained unclear. If the blockage reoccurred, then he would have to operate. My choice therefore was to have investigative surgery that day or later, if the blockage returned.
My wife wanted me home, and I agreed.
So, after another night monitoring my recovery, I came home—
–to concentrate on the key tasks… my second chance.
To focus on family and writing… on leaving a loving legacy.
My Snowdonia police procedural will be finished, and my December WEP-IWSG Challenge, titled ‘Swords to Ploughshares’ is being outlined.
In 2020, I sketched out an idea for ‘Lost Sheep’, a Snowdonia Shadows novella from a different POV – Sparkle’s maternal grandfather. The retired sheep farmer is a devout Presbyterian, who disapproves of her sexuality. However, I struggled to get beyond the opening scenes due to a mix of NaNoWriMo pressures and the first signs of writing debilitating health issues.
So, I’ve since stuck to the slow-plod writing.
However, I was tempted – for a few hours – to use November to work on ‘Freedom Flight’, the collation/collection of all my Ukraine stories. But that would have been the worst kind of cheating… the kind discussed in that 2019 post.
Strange though, I announced the IWSG Anthology Contest 2019 winners in the same post. And one was ‘Feathered Fire’, my short which began my Ukraine journey.
As I wrote the October Challenge post, Putin’s disastrous invasion escalated. So, I ended up writing more background information. So, this is Post II, in which I refer in places to the Challenge post:
Ukraine’s successful counter-offensive revealed likely war crimes from a torture incident to mass graves in a forest. Russian troops and separatist forces ran en masse, abandoning valuable equipment and supplies.
This was swiftly followed by Russia’s sham elections and illegal annexation of four regions of Eastern Ukraine.
Echoes of Hitler’s annexation of Sudetenland before WWII.
Internationally, almost everyone condemned the annexations, especially given the evidence of coercion by Russian forces, and the ludicrously inflated results. And Ukraine already controlled a percentage of the regions, then liberated more of the occupied territory after the pronouncement.
As his invasion failed, Putin announced partial mobilization which resulted in thousands of eligible Russians fleeing the country. Meanwhile, those conscripted seemed poorly equipped, barely trained, and sometimes dispatched overhastily to the front-line. There, hundreds are surrendering, rather than fight.
Putin and some in his clique have threatened the use of nuclear weapons. For now, the West has promised a punishing conventional response.
When someone, probably Ukraine, bombed the strategic Kerch Bridge linking Russia to Crimea, annexed illegally in 2014, Putin’s birthday was ruined, and he ‘lost his rag’.
The bloody reprisals were as expected from Putin’s newly appointed commander for the retreating invasion, SERGEI SUROVIKIN. Raining missiles down on Ukraine’s civilians is a typical war crime ordered by General Armageddon – hence that playground attack.
Amidst the ongoing brutality, this had to be my closing scene of my October Challenge post.
Putin was hoping he could frighten Ukrainian civilians into capitulation. But they are more determined to prevail, as the British were during the Blitz in WWII. The bombing of German cities had a similar reverse effect.
Looking ahead, my flash for December flash is provisionally titled ‘Swords into Ploughshares’ as that is where my green conscience needs to go.
War fever has engulfed so many of us. Yet, when even Germany’s Foreign Minister, Annalena Baerbock, is a Green and strong supporter of Ukraine, I feel my response is somewhat vindicated. But there must be a humanitarian solution, not one that strengthens the military-industrial complex I so vehemently opposed when active in green politics.
As the war in Ukraine continues, so must my tale of two Canadian-Ukrainian aviatrix cousins unfold to merge reality and inspiration from the WEP/IWSG bi-monthly challenges.
This October Challenge presented another interesting writing prompt in Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’. The war continues to throw up horrific images, but the extraordinary Kharkiv Counter-offensive seemed to be more encouraging.
However, I had sown a spectral seed in the last scene of the August Challenge, with aviatrix Ksenia Zelenko frightened for her brother in a Russian prison.
So, I wrote the Ksenia story as the main arc, and tried to fit in two additional events in real life, which felt significant.
But there was too much ongoing destruction and too much escalation that I had to discard one of those real-life incidents – the discovery of a Russian torture building – and so many more tragic events. This seems to be one of those tough choices writing historical fiction entails, especially in historical flash.
Instead, I pruned enough words to add a closing scene echoing ‘Thriller’ and reality.
I am aware how this war has distracted many of us from other pressing crises like climate change. And there are other humanitarian emergencies, so I’m impressed when the Ukrainians are trying to help others in say African countries. And don’t forget their concern, a few months back, for getting their grain out to those starving abroad.
Although most don’t see this terrible war ending soon, I am outlining an upbeat positive piece for the December Challenge. However, I am prepared to keep writing into 2023, even if the pieces don’t fit with Challenge prompts and I must post ‘independently’.
That depends on my health and the overdue revision of Sparkle Anwyl novel ‘Fevered Fuse’. I’d be remiss if I abandoned my Snowdon Shadows mysteries.
Anyway, on to the Challenge. Please note, this present day tale began with my World War II story Feathered Fire, which introduced the Chayka family from Ukraine and appeared in the 2020 IWSG Anthology (No. 5), Voyagers: The Third Ghost.
Blurb: In Ukraine, Night Witches gamble their lives against Fate.
Part 4
Winged Death
2022
Ukraine
Tuesday, August 30th – Kanatovo air base, Kirovohrad Oblast.
Ksenia leant closer to her brother Kyrylo as darkness shrouded them.
“How much longer have we? We’ve so much to share. Evading death takes a miracle.”
“No time to talk about the Azovstal steel mill. Nor enough faith for your miracle. Soon I must go. Tell me about the counter-offensive, please.”
Did he know? Why? Had he chosen to die again?
No. Never let him leave. Sibling persuasion.
“Our squadron received official approval as an active unit… for this offensive. We have fifteen pilots now, all-women. Plus—”
“—six more NATO compatible jets.”
He knows everything. Of course.
“Yes. The Swedes sent more Gripens. With our new command-and-control systems and surface-to-air defenses, we can field an integrated air and missile defense force—”
“—all-women like the original Night Witches, but deadlier. But I must go home now.”
“Not yet, Kyrylo. We need each other. Stay, please.”
“We will be together soon – forever.” His figure wavered in the moonlight.
“How?”
“Sacrifice. Please. Grandma calls.”
Then, he vanished – joining their ancestors.
A harbinger of fate? Whose?
Thursday, September 8th
Cold Lake, Canada (21.00) andKanatovo, Ukraine (Friday, 06.00)
Leonid Sokol had been in shock since hearing the news at 11.30. Reaching his wife Kalyna in Ukraine had proved disturbing as front-line information was shrouded in secrecy. Rumors of high casualties made him fear the worst as time passed with no contact.
How dangerous were the current air operations? Were the Witches being used for night missions? What was the cost in lives?
The sound of her voice was relief, but tears flowed as he said, “Queen Elizabeth died today… we knew it would happen. We’ll mourn her.”
“We heard when Zelenskiy extended sincere condolences on behalf of the Ukrainian people. What did our prime minister, Justin Trudeau say? He’s known her personally much of his life.”
“He called the Queen ‘a constant presence in our lives’ and said his compatriots would always ‘remember and cherish Her Majesty’s wisdom, compassion, and warmth’—”
“Agreed. A life of dedication well lived. Time now to end the horrors here. Make all this carnage meaningful.”
“I fear what’s ahead. More than weapons are needed.”
Sunday, September 11th – Eastern Ukraine
The twelve Night Witches went silent as their three majors entered the briefing room, along with the commander of their ground units.
Vasy uncovered a map showing Russian positions east of Kharkiv. “Again, we’re tasked with a front-line night mission clearing enemy command & control targets. First, we must clear obstacles facing tomorrow’s thunder run. The lighter faster vehicles our brigades are using will bypass strong units. So, our second selection of targets are those.’
Ksenia continued the briefing assigning targets to the various wings.
“My wing will clear out this detachment of tanks. Remember everyone, we don’t have air supremacy in this sector.”
**
Explosions lit the night as the other wings found their targets. But Russian defenses were now alert and their rockets were incoming.
Ksenia’s Gold Wing had yet to attack their target, although their drone operator had locked in the co-ordinates.
As Ksenia and her wing-sister Lieutenant Ganna Kohut flew a protective pattern above, Lieutenants Anzhela Havrylyuk and Mariyka Shevchuk closed, launching multiple AGM-88 missiles.
Several explosions were confirmed as hits by her instruments. Ground defences tried to bring down the attackers as they climbed out of range.
Before Ksenia and Ganna could attack, four Russian Sukhoi Su-30s flew towards them.
“Don’t engage. Evade. Jink home.”
As the enemy launched heat seeking missiles, Gold Wing all fired off flares and chaff. Then began a combination of tight maneuvers, knowing missiles couldn’t maneuver as nimbly as their jets. And their Gripens’ electronic counter measures sent strong electronic signals, jamming radars.
More projectiles closed from below as the wing turned and barrel rolled in different directions.
Unable to track the jets anymore, most missiles flew past, losing their locks.
But the Russian Su-30s kept following, despite the danger of Ukrainian anti-aircraft defences nearby.
Russian Su-30
Ksenia prayed at least one enemy would be downed.
But they too were dodging attacks, and the Russians seemed intent on one target now – Anzhela.
Ksenia had to protect her friend. She turned towards the pursuers and when in range opened fire with her Gripen’s Mauser BK-27 cannon. Then rolled away, diving groundward.
All four Russians followed, firing missiles and cannon.
Despite the darkness, she flew as close to the treetops as possible, and under every powerline she remembered.
Approaching Kharkiv, she climbed, hoping her pursuers would flee from Ukraine’s air umbrella.
Hopefully her sisters had followed orders and returned to base. But two jets remained on her radar – one a Su-30.
Higher she climbed, twisting to lose her pursuer, who before running, launched a final missile.
It exploded by Ksenia’s wingtip.
Blood blurred her vision as her Gripen spun down.
She had to eject.
No. Her plane would hit the city.
Fight to regain control.
Another explosion – the Russian.
Steer to open spaces.
A field of harvested wheat. Food saved.
Too much blood.
“I’m dying. Kyrylo was right. Together forever.”
**
Thursday, September 15th – Kanatovo air base, Kirovohrad Oblast
Anzhela planted the sunflower seedling on Ksenia’s grave. “She saved my life. Why?”
Her partner Larisa and their son hugged her. “For freedom.”
“You avenged her,” said Vasy. “By shooting down that Su-30… not over the city. You saved lives.”
The surviving squadron personnel bowed their heads, then added seedlings to the other graves of their fallen friends.
“Glory to Ukraine! Glory to the heroes!”
Above the spirits of all departed Night Witches keened, yearning for a peaceful resolution.
**
Monday, October 10th – Kyiv, Ukraine
The Russian S-300 missile dropped with precise intent toward its military target – Ukrainian children in a playground.
Putin’s genocide mushroomed as deadly explosives fell, and blood was spilt all over Ukraine.
More innocent corpses. Bodies pulled from devastated buildings.
A special military operation with a spiraling cost in lives.
1,000 Words: FCA
KYIV, UKRAINE – OCTOBER 10: A view of the scene after several explosions rocked the Shevchenkivskyi district of the Ukrainian capital, Kyiv on October 10, 2022. Vitali Klitschko said that multiple explosions were heard in the center of Kyiv today morning. There is no further detail on the incident yet. (Photo by Wolfgang Schwan/Anadolu Agency via Getty Images)
Although that’s my October Challenge piece, I have more on the War in Ukraine. So. I’m splitting this post in two. For more on the War, including a link or two and a video, plus plans for the December Challenge, and two female Ukrainian soldiers, watch out for Post II in a minute or two… or go here: https://rolandclarke.com/2022/10/19/the-ongoing-war-in-ukraine/
And my long-suffering wife brought me Apple Orchard tea, despite her bad knees and other ailments. I wish our family did more… but they try given their own problems.
The usual single key tapping continues, but my new pain-med regimen helps ease the intermittent pain, improving my concentration.
My Snowdonia police procedural still depends on my desktop appearing… within another three months, perhaps.
My October WEP-IWSG Challenge – ‘Thriller’ theme – is written but needs honing. I’ve even started creating ‘Freedom Flights’, which will be a collation/collection of all my Ukraine stories.
Part 1 will be ‘Feathered Fire’, my historical fantasy which appeared in the IWSG Anthology ‘The Third Ghost’ and introduced the Cheyka family from Ukraine. However, there may be complications using a published piece.
Part II will be my Challenge pieces on the current conflict in Ukraine.
Anyway IWSG.Remember, the question is optional!
October 5 question – What do you consider the best characteristics of your favorite genre?
I hesitate over ‘favorite genre’ as my current writing for the WEP-IWSG Challenge could be classed as ‘contemporary’ or will become ‘historical’ in a few decades.
My current audio read, ‘The Last Restaurant in Paris’ by Lily Graham, is classed as Historical, as it’s set in WW2… and present day.
OK… so best characteristics of Historical: seamless blend of fact and fiction.
Does that make ‘Freedom Flight’ historical? Eastern Front WW2 and present-day Russian invasion?
As in ‘Fevered Fuse’ my police procedural novel, undergoing revision, well, awaiting that desktop appearance. Plus, all my other Sparkle stories set in Snowdonia are police procedurals.
And my wife and I are avidly watching ‘The Brokenwood Mysteries” on Acorn TV, a New Zealand series with a great mix of quirky characters.
That’s not quite the Crime genre’s best characteristics… almost.
Twists
Whether red herrings, misleading information, false trails, or any crafty plot coils, a devious writer uses.
Used craftily, these keep our little grey cells firing and our minds entertained.
Single key tapping is hard amidst intermittent pain… and morphine doesn’t aid concentration.
The book still depends on my desktop appearing… and an upturn in my health.
I have sketched out my October WEP-IWSG Challenge – Thriller theme – but there are massive holes.
Anyway IWSG.Remember, the question is optional!
September 7 question – What genre would be the worst one for you to tackle and why?
I’ve tackled/attempted quite a few genres and judging by a few failures…
Well, my written humour doesn’t stand up… to anything. Flat jokes are not red herrings. I laugh at comedy, whether Monty Python or Robin Williams or Terry Pratchett, but I never slap a key in jest.
As the war in Ukraine continues, so will my tale of two Canadian-Ukrainian aviatrix cousins unfold to merge reality and inspiration from the WEP/IWSG bi-monthly challenges.
Once again Putin provided the grist – his clampdown on gay rights banning at the end of June “propaganda of nontraditional sexual relations to minors.”
Wasn’t Beethoven unable to marry Countess Guicciardi due to the strict social conventions at the time? Not the same but… echoes/ripples. Social conventions evolve but never let up.
On the war front, I had to address the shortage of Ukrainian fighter jets and the consequences. My solution might be fictional, but mirrors what is happening.
The ending is intentionally jarring, and a foreshadowing of October’s thrilling prompt.
On the life front: Although we moved into our new mobile home in June, we are not settled in yet. My stepson, his partner and baby are still with us. Finally, their brand new mobile home is ready – two months late. So, they’ve begun moving stuff over, but it may be next week before we can make use of two more rooms. The plan is for my wife to sleep in one and have her office in the other.
I will stay in the master but move from my wheelchair into a new hospital bed. It will be far better for me and my care team, as will a new wheelchair they’ve arranged – a swop for my dead machines. Also, my brother was over briefly from the UK to help, mainly with funding. Also, he suggested putting my desktop in the office and linking it to my laptop I can use in bed.
Blurb: As relationships are rekindled, an all-women squadron reforms in Ukraine
Part 3
Moonbeam Magic
2022
Friday, July 1st – Kulbakino Airbase, Mykolaiv Oblast, Ukraine.
A MiG-29 Fulcrum takes off from Starokostiantyniv Air Base, Ukraine, Oct. 9 as part of the Clear Sky 2018 exercise. The exercise promotes regional stability and security, while strengthening partner capabilities and fostering trust. (U.S. Air National Guard photo by Tech. Sgt. Charles Vaughn)
Kalyna counted the jets landing after their daily patrol of Ukrainian airspace. She noted the most experienced male flyers deplane, then stride towards the debriefing room.
“When will they let women fly again?” asked Vasy. “Are we on guard duty indefinitely?”
“The men get the choice missions,” responded Ksenia. “We might get a tough night mission…”
Assessing the squadron’s serviceable jets, Kalyna added, “when we get more planes. We have keen pilots joining the unit every month.”
Three young women approached, armed with assault rifles.
“Perimeter secure and guard changed as ordered, Major Zelenko,” said one of the trio, a wiry brunette.
Anzhela Havrylyuk was a recent recruit with flying experience at Motor Sich Airlines in south-eastern Ukraine.
She remained, hands clasped, nodding to her colleagues to leave.
“Majors… I need your advice… but it’s difficult—”
“Relax. We’re friends first… and women. Then officers,” said Ksenia. “What’s the problem?”
“My identity. I was born speaking Russian first… but here in Ukraine. I naively believed Putin wanted the best…” She stared at the three older women, then dropped her head.
“Continue,” said Vasy. “We guessed and understand. But everything changed, so you volunteered.”
“Yes. The invasion was not as expected… and the wanton destruction isn’t liberation. Now Putin expects us to renounce our citizenship… and become Russian—” The next words were lost as a whisper.
“Take your time if there’s more.”
Tears formed as she said, “My Russian friend. Larisa… Larisa Kovalyov has disappeared… in Moscow… after Putin banned the “propaganda of nontraditional sexual relations to minors.” But our son…”
As the moon rose over the airfield. The friends understood. Then hugged their distraught sister.
A Canadian CF-18A Hornet from the 409th Squadron at Cold Lake, Alberta (Canada), launches a laser-guided bomb at Eglin Air Force Base, Florida (USA), on 5 December 2006. U.S. Air Force photo by Lt. Col. Tim Pfeifer
Moonbeams flickered on the wingtips of the three CF-18A Hornets as they landed at the repurposed airfield in Western Ukraine – the Night Witches’ new home.
Once the jets had taxied onto the grass near the hangers, their pilots jumped down, then ran to embrace the cousins.
“How was the flight from Cold Lake?” Vasy asked Chayka Air’s lead instructor. “Any problems crossing foreign airspace?”
The woman smiled. “No problems. Total approval for this unofficial scheme. With the US dragging its feet, a private Canadian solution was necessary and welcome.”
“We knew the Chayka team would make everything work,” said Kalyna. “Are the others coming via Sweden as planned?”
“With the three Gripen Cs we acquired when the RCAF chose other replacements. Hopefully our colleagues get the armaments our trio require.”
“Will the Swedish Airforce send more Gripens?” asked Ksenia. “I’ve heard the Gripens can operate from every rough field we find—”
“–and be rearmed, serviced and refueled in 10-20 minutes by 5 untrained volunteer mechanics and a single trained crew chief,” added Chayka’s deputy mechanic. “Wasn’t that why I was coerced into this… and my Ukrainian heritage.”
“It’s why we’re all here… and why the millions of Canadian dollars raised for the Night Witches revival was possible.”
The six Ukrainian recruits stood beside the three Canadian jets they would fly soon.
The third Canadian aviatrix added, “We painted the planes midnight blue for night missions… presuming that’s best for witch magic.”
Saturday, July 23rd – Airfield “Kalyniv” near the Polish border.
Dniester River at twilight
Anzhela sat beside the meandering upper reaches of the Dniester River, watching the sun set to the west and praying her partner Larisa and their son Maks were safe somewhere.
“Travel safe my loves wherever the just path leads. We’ll make the zealots run.”
“Zealots are creating difficulties everywhere,” said Kalyna approaching from the base to the north. “There may be news soon. We’re expecting a truck from Poland tonight, bringing supplies and messages from abroad.”
As dusk fell, they reached the edge of the airfield. Headlights glistened on the tarmac and six military vehicles approached, guarded by an armored personnel carrier. The lead truck pulled up. The driver grinned as he saw Kalyna.
“I felt my wife would forgive me coming this far if I had gifts… like Polish alcohol, food, us-time and—”
“—perfect… as long as you have something for my friend Anzhela… plus, our munitions.”
“Of course, in the back with Vasy’s husband Marko.”
Anzhela slowly walked to the rear of the truck, where Larisa and Maks hugged and kissed her.
Beaming, she said, “So soon… how?”
“Others fleeing Putin’s clampdown… and they want to help.”
“Of course. I’m sure the majors will be pleased… welcome friends.”
Volunteers and crew unloaded the vehicles, while the armored personnel carrier patrolled the perimeter.
“No more foot patrols,” said Anzhela. “I won’t miss those.”
The sound of jet engines made everyone turn to watch three Gripen Cs clear the trees washed by the moonlight.
“But I’d love to fly one of those Swedish beauties, Larisa.”
Sunday, July 24th – Airfield “Kalyniv” near the Polish border.
JAS 39 Gripen of The Swedish Air Force taking off from a short runway located on public road. San Diego Air and Space Museum Archive
Before dawn, the aircrew were gathered in the main hanger, where Chayka Air’s deputy mechanic was briefing the ground crew.
“…the Gripen is NATO compatible with weapons and avionics. It uses its own and link-16 datalink.”
“When the Gripen E is supplied to the Swedish Air Force, will they send us more Gripens?” asked Ksenia.
“We don’t know that yet,” replied Kalyna. “But they sent spare parts and munitions. They’ll monitor our progress.”
“Which jets will we train on, please?” asked a recruit.
“All of you will eventually fly all three models,” said Ksenia. “We’ll form three wings rotating planes. Maybe we’ll receive more to master. For now, it’s three MiG-29s. three Hornets, and three Gripens.”
”The wings are as follows,” said Vasy. “Gold: Ksenia Zelenko, Anzhela Havrylyuk. Mariyka Shevchuk. Blue: Vasy Chayka, Dariya Kravchenko, Tamila Medved. Red: Kalyna Chayka, Olha Tkachuk, Raisa Bondarenko.”
Saturday, July 30th – Airfield “Kalyniv” near the Polish border.
Moon over Kyrkevik in Lysek by W.carter
Clouds covered the moon, and a chill gripped Ksenia. Were any of the Ukrainian prisoners killed in Russia’s massacre at Olenivka captured at the Azovstal steel mill?
