Latest from John Sweeney
On March 21, many of the villagers were able to leave. Now, Julia says, the Russians are surrounded by the Ukrainian army. I start to think about these Russian kids telling “zombie lies” — the phrase comes from the chief rabbi of Kyiv’s Brodsky Synagogue, Moshe Azman — sitting in their metal boxes, waiting to die.
The villagers say that they are begging for food. They’re so hungry, they come to the villagers and ask for something to eat. The villagers say they are not aggressive. Their commanders want them to fight, to be harsh, but they are too busy asking for scraps to eat.
Low morale stems from the second big reason for failure: Russia’s high command doesn’t give a damn about its people. It cares only about money. It is corrupt. Russia’s war is not going well, and there is only one person to blame.
I tell Angelica that when she gets out of this, she will come to London, meet my granddaughter and we will go see where the Queen lives. She gives me a thumbs up.
When a Chechen armored column left the airbase and moved towards Kyiv, the Ukrainians launched a Turkish-made drone, a Bayraktar, that reportedly charred 70 soldiers alive. The burning wreckage is what the video shows. The Ukrainians say that the dead included Gen. Magomed Tuszagew (or Toshaev), head of the 141st Motorized Brigade.
Upon leaving the carriage, a tsunami of human misery washes over us. It was like walking along a train platform during the London Blitz except it’s 2022 not 1940. The sight of two sweet kids and their silly little dog lying on the platform, their home for now, is seared into my memory. Fuck you, Putin.
The old guy bought 10 packets of the same cigarettes and nothing else, his unique vice on vulgar display to the world. The woman snapped up every saveloy in the shop, anxiety-buying extra sausages. It was funny, but it was not amusing.
Back when he was working in St. Petersburg, Putin’s approach was dogged, unsubtle and maladroit, not just because he was KGB, but also because he was so clumsily KGB.