In a move that has the Kremlin reaching for both the proverbial smelling salts and the literal air raid sirens, Ukraine has, in what can only be described as an 'unprecedented' fit of pique, launched a drone assault on St Petersburg. Yes, St Petersburg. Putin's very own imperial jewel.
The city of czars, canals, and now, apparently, very nervous pigeons. The attack, which was, I'm told, 'unprecedented' by everyone who hasn't been paying attention, seems to have caught the Russian defence establishment napping, possibly after a heavy lunch of borscht and delusion. The drones, which are presumably piloted by very brave Ukrainians with a poor sense of flight safety, managed to penetrate air defences that were probably advertised on Wish.
com. Witnesses reported a 'buzz of indignation' as the drones zipped past historic buildings, no doubt taking selfies. The Russian MOD, in a statement that dripped with predictable fury, said the attack was 'a gross violation of everything we hold dear, especially our peace of mind'.
Meanwhile, in Kyiv, a spokesman shrugged and said, 'We sent them a very strongly worded memo. On a drone.' The implications are, as the stern-faced men on television would say, 'grave'.
Grave for the Russian sense of invulnerability. Grave for the idea that St Petersburg is a cosy, gin-free zone of safety. And grave for anyone who thought this war would confine itself to the eastern steppes.
Putin, I imagine, is now in a bunker somewhere, stroking a cat and muttering about 'escalation'. But let's be honest, when you invade a country, you sort of set the escalator to 'up'. The real question is: what next?
Are we going to see Ukrainian drones buzzing the Kremlin? Will they deliver leaflets to Putin's dacha? Or perhaps they'll just drop a sternly worded letter, signed by Zelensky, saying, 'You started it.
' The absurdity of modern warfare: where once we sent letters of protest, now we send buzzing aluminium harbingers of wrath. It's like an angry wasp nest, but with more geopolitical significance. And less honey.
In conclusion, the audacity of Ukraine is matched only by the sheer nerve of doing it in broad daylight, or perhaps it was night, it doesn't really matter. The point is, St Petersburg now joins the club of cities that have had a surprise visitor from the war. And the Russians, who are famously good at taking jokes, will probably see the funny side of this.
Eventually. After they've finished shaking their fists at the sky. Cheeky buggers, these Ukrainians.
