Axis & Allies - damowords

Battle of the Moskva
Bouyantly rows of bayonets bounce east,
Mile‐on‐mile the enemy defeated,
But step‐by‐step their numbers are decreasʹd,
By disease & desertion depleted;
Even Smolensk
Hardly holds back the flow,
Until the mood grows tense, poisʹd at Borodino
Muscovyʹs aristocracy
Combine for Alexander
With all their stalwart peasantry,
The miracle of Russia,
Her scouts shout out, ʺThe enemy!ʺ
Whose feverish leader
Shows no stomach for such desperate fight ‐
Day terrible til tolstoyan twilight.
As Kutuzov sounds the retreat
Fatigue pours pandemic,
The Tsar this treats not as defeat,
But victory Phyrric,
For like their weary leader the Grand Armee has grown sick.
Borodino
September
1812
Turning Tide
The path to Russiaʹs heart hackʹd Cossack clear,
Itʹs conquerer trots thro the old city,
No Roman triumph will await him here
As ghostly streets salute his victory;
ʺWhat is that smellʺ
Flames flicker candlesque,
Soon some dantean hell surrounds his writing desk.
A score of letters reach the Tsar,
None in reply forthcoming,
For his opponentʹs rising star
Has retreated from the ring,
ʺThis is no way to conduct war!
What will this madness bringʺ
& all around his far‐from‐grand armee
Live life like dying men ‐ desperately!
Rape rioting with ransack wild,
Short autumn swiftly spannʹd,
This meek & mild abandonʹd child
Holds out her little hand ‐
A pretty snowflake melted there (as Alexander plannʹd).
Moscow
October
1812