The Battle of Vank
Well off the main highway travelling North in Nagorno Karabagh,
on the way to the monastery at Gandzasar,
we travel a country dirt road for many miles.
In contrast, the fields are lush green,
with grazing sheep, horses and foals.
We admire the mountain view.
We pass the occasional hut but little else.
Suddenly, I observe the sight of rusted metal.
We quickly pass by four destroyed armored personnel vehicles.
They have formed a column of death.
It is a grim reminder of the bitter war for independence.
The hydro sub-station, now intact,
was no doubt the primary target a decade ago.
I did not dare take a photo.
This a regime under siege and martial law.
And I am a civilian foreigner,
just passing through.
But what happened to the crew?
Someone surely knew.
Many probably died that day,
that is all I can say.
I am a civilian foreigner,
just passing through.
Many probably died that day,
that is all I can say
I am a civilian foreigner,
just passing through.
Alan Whitehorn
May 24 – August 22, 2005
