When perusing contemporary footage of the Russo-Ukraine War, one may come across lots of mentions of the verb работать (rabotat') - which translates as ‘to work’.
The Russian noun for ‘work’ or ‘a job’ is: работа (rabota).
The verb for ‘to work’ is: работать (rabotat').
Now, in the Anglosphere, if one was to hear a phrase such as “their artillery is working” or “our infantry got to work”, we would immediately know what was meant, but it would not be our ‘go to’ verb for such business. Indeed, it would immediately imply either a lack of knowledge about what that work would be, or an intentional euphemism.
We tend to ascribe specific actions to our Arms - “their artillery is firing” or “our infantry attacked.” Or better yet… “their infantry advanced” and “our artillery stonked.”1 This difference in linguistic approach brings to mind three areas of interest.
The first is obscuration. One could say that there is a certain opaqueness in using a catch-all verb like ‘to work’ for what everyone is up to. Just like our Russian друзья (druz'ya), we use language to lay a smokescreen upon our activities. The enemy is ‘suppressed’, or perhaps, he has been ‘neutralised’.2 Thus, a healthy abstract distance is maintained from what is really going on.
The second is flexibility in meaning. By such ubiquitous deployment of the verb, the Arm, or equipment, is being told to "just get on with it". Not necessarily of the don't-just-stand-there-do-something! school, but more likely of the “please do whatever it is that you do” train of thought. In other words: I'm sure you are aware of the business of your Arm and would like to do it credit. Here is your opportunity. And thus the artillery got ‘to work’.
The military tradition of the region has also been suspected of viewing war as a calculation of exchanges. With this frame, war is less about the bonds of tight teams (although certainly a feature), and more about getting the right numbers in the right place. Hence the importance of calculation of fire tables, speed-distance-time nomograms, and a pervasive technical interest.3
If true, then this approach to verbiage may also be a solution. Naturally, in these circumstances, it would be hard for anyone outside of an Arm to do much more than say “get to work.”
Of course, this flexibility of meaning might also be a desirable quality, rather than a patchy solution. These days, NATO effect terms have become so specific (and perhaps as a result, numerous), that they miss an artistic looseness that might be desirable, friction-reducing, and altogether more, strange to say, wholesome.
The third area of curiosity, and the most interesting, is in the Russian ‘root’. Russian, like many languages, appends sounds at the start and finish of a more basic root, creating a new meaning. Of course, this meaning can be quite closely related and therefore present a handy memory ‘peg’ to form more associations from; or it could appear devoid of any connection, and therefore present the same memory-catalyst for opposite reasons.4
It isn’t a great leap to imagine that работать (rabotat') has connotations of subservience.5 After all, a fellow traveler is the root труд- (trood), which translates as ‘labour’ and interestingly only needs the addition of -ность (nost’) to communicate ‘difficulty’.
Perhaps when I am verbed ‘to work’, my Arm embraces a long held tradition. Like the melancholy main character in a fictional fringe of Russia, we are called to trudge on.
Stonk.
“i) A heavy mortar or artillery bombardment. (Second World War Slang).
ii) A standard fixed length (575 yards) linear target engaged by any number of regiments. Introduced in 1943 as a type of engagement to replace various local versions developed in North Africa. The length standardised on 525 yards after the Second World War at which time a stonk was fired by a single regiment.”
Royal Artillery Glossary of Terms and Abbreviations by Philip Johnson (page 270).
Here we refrain from the common practice of capitalising words that relate to EFFECTS, ACTIONS, or other VOCABULARY.
Not necessarily the same thing as a technological interest - although that is a feature, just manifest differently from Western forces.
With thanks to Extra Muros for pointing us towards the captivating work “The Mother Tongue” by Lancelot Hogben.
One may occasionally come across arguments about the origins of ‘Slav’ as it relates to the word ‘Slave’. It appears to have taken a more circumspect route than might first appear, so I will spare readers any more scenic speculations when I am already well outside of my philological swim lane here.
A ‘hudozhnyk’ ot slova ‘hudo’? Nu i zakrutyil bratan! Just kidding. My grandfather was russian and I can speak russian without an accent, although I’m not very got at writing in the said language. And since the events of the last couple of years I’m not proud of this heritage.
I wonder about the relationship between the Russian expression and the German word 'Zusammenarbeit', which I often see in German discussions of the 'cooperation' between artillery and other arms.