Let me introduce myself
I'm Robert K. Wesson,
Sgt. Retired
I like to say the K was for killer,
But, in fact it was for Knowlton
I have no idea why,
Nobody in our family named that, as far as I know.
Anyway, that's out of the way.
35 years served. Can't give away anymore information than that, it's a national secret. I can say, I can cook a mean chipped beef for 1100 men though.

I served in WWII, lost a lot of friends. I'm 97 years young now, as they like to say. I don't, I gave up counting years ago when I lost my wife, but, folks round here like to put on a show every year I get closer to 100. They wheel a cake into me, have me blow out the candles and then I head down stairs to the commissary for a beer. A light beer mind you, but, still a beer. Anything harder messes with my meds.
Personally, I think they give me the beer to shut me up, puts me to sleep in no time. I'm on pills for blood pressure, diabetes, headaches, one to make me ***, one to make me ****. Won't get into those now, rather unsavory things to chat about.

As I said, I served in the big one, came back relatively unscathed. No physical issues that I know of, but, mentally, I saw things no one should. Things that stay with you for ever. I wasn't front line per se, but, I can't tell you what I did, it's a national secret. I can say though, 100 loaves of bread, I can do that....no trouble at all.
Around here, I'm Grampa Bob, or Gramps, depending on who is working. Not many from my generation here now. Oh, here? I'm at a military home outside of Kingston. Some days, it's great, others, I wished I was gone years back. I wish I was gone in the war sometimes, but, then I would never have met my wife and had the fantastic life I did have. No kids, but, we made do.
Met her once I came home. But, that's another story. Wished I'd gone first though, tough watching her pass, cowardly to say, but, it was rough. I came in here after that. Was having trouble sleeping, concentrating, and generally couldn't take care of myself.
Seems strange a man who could do what I could, I can't tell you though, National Secret and all.  But I could field strip my weapon in the dark in a windstorm, and make stew for 1100 men no sweat.
Well, I came here, before I burned out the house. The local fire department got tired of coming out I guess, made a few calls, and here I be. Sold the house, made enough to do ok here, what with my pension and all too.
I'm not one for reading too much, eyes aren't the best anymore, and my hands, well the arthritis flares up and I can barely move some days. There's a computer in the common area we can use, but, I know all I need to know, and some things I wished I didn't.
Never got used to television, especially after it switched to colour. I didn't get the jokes, and the cop shows? I had the murderer figured out in the first ten minutes, why couldn't they figure it out?
Back to here. I'm an early riser, always was. Get up, shuffle to the sink to do my teeth before they come in and give me the whole whang dang doodle wash and wax to get me ready to face the day.
I used to go to the crafts classes here. They were ok, but, a man only need so many fake leather wallets with horses on them. After all, I've nobody to really give one to. If you want one, let me know, I've lots. Did a few of the Christmas trees in ceramics, but, after a while, I lost interest. The wife loved having the trees around, but, without her, it's not the same. Made about 7 or 8, let the nurses have those.
The nurses, great kids. Not the same as the ones we had in the war. Those....well, those were nurses. They could do anything needed, field strip a rifle, put in an IV under fire, drive a jeep, all without getting those starched white uni's ***** or blood stained. And...without losing their caps. Nurses today? good kids, but, not as tough in my book. Things have changed a lot, no uniforms like the old days, pretty casual, and 5 nurses to do what one would do in one quick visit. Now, 5 nurses, 2 hours to do what?
Anyways, I hear one coming now, so I best go. I know it's not my birthday, and VE day was the other day, so, must be tests again for something. I'll be here if you need a wallet remember, lots to go around. Hope to talk soon,
Just ask for Gramps, they'll get you here.

Ordinary Valaam nursing home
For the good and the poor but not for saints.
There are a lot of crowded wards home,
For old people with neither arms nor legs.
Here the nurses can’t keep track of everything—
That’s why there are always  stench and doom here,
Everybody has a look depth carrying
In which is visible renunciation mere.
Here lived the hero of the USSR.
Wounded in battle under Krasnodar.
Like everyone else, a Soviet officer,
Just cynically called “a samovar”.
He was never discouraged for everyone—
He joked of everything and laughed heartily,
He gave useful advices to everyone,
And he only smiled at rudeness daily.
They took  veterans “out for a walk”, they
Attached the veterans to fir trees on sackcloth,
In the evening old men were removed from fir trees , they
Had to sleep. Was  forgotten the hero’s
Life. He didn’t die from multiple wounds,
He died quietly, without a cry or a sigh.
Died here so, having frozen veterans.
Together with them died the epoch, great and high.
{2020}

СМЕРТЬ ГЕРОЯ

Обычный валаамский интернат –
Не для святых, но сирых и убогих.
Здесь много переполненных палат
Для стриков безруких и безногих.
Сиделки тут за всем не уследят –
А потому здесь смрад и обречённость.
У каждого - глубокий очень взгляд,
Видна в котором только отрешённость.
Тут жил один герой СССР ,
Израненный в бою под Краснодаром.
Подобно всем, советский офицер
Цинично назывался «самоваром».
Он никогда для всех не унывал –
Шутил про всё и искренне смеялся.
Советы всем полезные давал.
В ответ на грубость – только улыбался.
Однажды «выводили» всех «гулять» -
На мешковинах к елям прицепили.
И к вечеру с деревьев сняли - спать.
А про героя начисто забыли!
Он умер не от множественных ран,
По-тихому – без крика или вздоха.
Вот так ушёл, замёрзнув, ветеран.
И с ним ушла великая эпоха!
{25.02.2020}

Translator - I. Toporov

Suffering is all I knew,
The soldiers marching through the streets
Each battalion larger than before
Kitty is in danger, along with her kind

A knock on the door knock, knock, knock
My loved ones are in danger,
My feelings alienated
Towards the cruel dictatorship

The door opened with a creak,
My mother hid behind the couch,
My father grabbed the blade,
Sunlight gleaming on its surface



The soldiers step in
I’m behind an overturned table
I hear a bang, two more
A women’s scream, a manly yell

My father and mother were gone.
The soldiers had murdered,
Destroyed the last of my joy
Taken away my pride

I ran away, over to the library
Kitty hid behind the shelf
I was not religious but I still wore the star
I was not the same so they searched for my head





I dyed my hair up to standard,
Put in colored contacts
I went outside and ran away
The soldier catching up to me

“I plead for it to stop,
The tormenting conflict.
I plead for peace,
An end to this hate.

I plead for something new.
I plead for life.
I plead for freedom.
I plead for change.”





My family divided due to death,
I stayed with the locals.
Nearly everyone was religious
In this ethnic neighborhood.

An officer came to my door
And asked for the Jews
Asked whether they were living
In the house next door.

I couldn’t do it,
I couldn’t reveal
To the soldier who waited
For the answer to appear





The survivors of the war,
They destroyed the hate,
I followed their lead,
And pushed away the horror

The memories torture me.
The memories destroy me.
The memories hurt me.
The memories sicken me.

But the liberators came
Their flag red with a sickle
Their big metal beasts
Tearing up the streets.





I risked my life because of this hope,
The hope that my family would survive.
I have lost all of it,
Because of this treachery.

I learned about the Bolsheviks,
How they liberated Russia
How they created the Soviets
And destroyed the Germans.

I did the right thing, I think
But I lost all of my friends
I live now with pain and torture
In Warsaw. Suffering.