War. Stories from Ukraine

Dmytro Pasternak, a tenacious traumatologist, had dedicated years of his life to serving in Donetsk, tirelessly working at the regional traumatology hospital and imparting knowledge at the medical university. In December 2014, he decided to begin anew in Mariupol, excitedly building a new life, but little did he know that the russian invasion would shatter all his plans and dreams.

Восток SOS

Amputation with a knife, evacuation in a shot car, and surgery in a bomb shelter: The Unyielding Story of a Surgeon from Mariupol - War. Stories from Ukraine Author: Maryna Kuraptseva

"During the filtration, the russians turned their attention to my youngest relative, who was 17 years old at the time. They shouted at her to recite the poem Borodino. She replied: “I didn’t learn it at school, but I can recite Shevchenko’s poem”. They forced her to write, and the child wrote in Ukrainian, including the letter “i”. They yelled at her: “Correct it. I don’t know these letters!”. Refusing to yield, she stood her ground, sparking a heated argument. Eventually, the occupiers relented and allowed us to proceed."

Since 2014, the Vostok SOS Charitable Foundation Восток SOS has been documenting war crimes committed by representatives of the russian federation, aiming to ensure justice and the right to truth. This story of Snizhana from Mariupol was recorded by the Foundation’s dedicated documenters, Natalia Kaplun and Yana Shynkarenko.

The story of Snizhana from Mariupol, whose life was ruined by russia three times - War. Stories from Ukraine Author: Natalia Kaplun, Yana Shynkarenko

A year ago, russian troops occupied Mariupol. The occupation was preceded by constant shelling of the city by russia, which actually destroyed most of Mariupol. How do people who have survived the siege remember these events now?

Yana Shynkarenko and Marina Kuraptseva, documentarians of the Vostok SOS Charitable Foundation Восток SOS, recorded the story of a woman who left Mariupol on foot and was forced to undergo interrogation by the FSB (the Federal Security Service of the russian federation).

Veronika’s story from Mariupol: Game of Survival, Street of Life, interrogation, and moving to Georgia - War. Stories from Ukraine Authors: Yana Shynkarenko, Marina Kuraptseva

According to official data, 40 000 people left the temporarily occupied territories in June alone. And on July 22 the head of the Zaporizhzhia Regional Military Administration, Oleksandr Starukh, reported in Telegram that the queue to leave the territories controlled by Russia at the checkpoint in the city of Vasylivka had reached 1 500 cars.

Within half a year that has passed since the start of the full-scale invasion the road to Zaporizhzhia has been given the informal name “the road of life”. The way passes through the city of Vasylivka, the last Russian checkpoint where refugees from Zaporizhzhia and Donetsk regions are kept for at least three to five days. And this happens despite the fact that mostly women, children and older people leave.

“The Road of Life”. How in Zaporizhzhia Ukrainians Are Helped to Get from the Occupied Territories to the Free Lands - War. Stories from Ukraine Russians tried to peel it off, scraped the surface, but in vain. Yulii recalls one of the conversations:

“If we take the biggest regional player, which is Ukraine, out of the global market, a player that cannot be replaced even in five years, the price increases will be cyclical and long-term. And with these price increases, low-income countries will just gradually find themselves without access to basic foods: first bread and oil, then foods made of grain and vegetable oils, then milk, eggs, and then meat and fish.”

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

The world is facing the threat of “the biggest famine since World War II”: What Russia has to do with it and why it will affect everyone - War. Stories from Ukraine Writer: Maria Semenchenko

“I really want the war to end sooner. And to do so, there is no other choice but to go and fight. Of course, I want to come back home and see how all that’s happening now has become just a dreadful piece of memory. But staying home now isn’t possible. As it won’t bring us the victory.”

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

I am lucky to survive. Three stories of soldiers who were wounded but kept fighting - War. Stories from Ukraine Author: Aliona Savchuk

"As we were running, we saw Russian soldiers and asked, ‘We’re from the Drama Theater, why did you bomb it?’ And they replied, ‘We got an order, so we did it.’ They knew perfectly well that there were children inside, that there was no military in there.”

We are going to tell you three stories: about kidnapping, torture and murder; about torture and coercion to collaborate with the occupiers; about intentionally opened fire targeting civilians. Each of the stories is tragedy and pain for which Russians are to blame.

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

“Where is my Vitalik?” Three stories of Russian war crimes in Ukraine and why they are a threat to world security - War. Stories from Ukraine Author: Mariia Semenchenko

"Wherever I am, the war comes with me. In Venice, it was very difficult for me to accept the beauty around. I enjoyed it, but at the same time I was offended: it’s so beautiful around, and the war is going on, on the same continent.”

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

“We have to talk to the world.” How the Russian invasion changed the lives of Ukrainian artists - War. Stories from Ukraine Author: Mary Banko

On July 29th, the world knew about another Russian war crime. The Russians killed more than 50 Ukrainian prisoners of war, and dozens of people were wounded in the occupied Olenivka (Donetsk Oblast).

These prisoners of war were the defenders of Mariupol.

Our new story is about the Ukrainian warriors who held off Russian attacks on the surrounded city for 86 days.

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

People of the Underground: How the Azovstal Iron and Steel Works turned into a fortress for the Ukrainian defenders of Mariupol and a shelter for hundreds of Mariupol’s civilians - War. Stories from Ukraine Writer — Olena Struk

In June Russian passports began being offered to Berdiansk residents. Tetiana is upset by the lines of those who take them. In her opinion, they do not believe in the liberation of the city and have obeyed the new authorities.

“It Is Difficult to Experience the Occupation a Second Time”. The Story of 68-Year-Old Tetiana, Who Left Her Native Donetsk, but Does Not Want to Leave Berdiansk - War. Stories from Ukraine Illustrated by Dasha Klochko

According to the Foreign Legion press service, thousands of people from 55 countries fight for freedom in Ukraine. Why they came to defend a foreign country thousands miles away from home and what challenges they face — read the article below.

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

“I will protect the innocent.” Why foreigners from Morocco, South Korea, and Romania fight in Ukraine - War. Stories from Ukraine Illustrated by Darya Klochko

Mahran, a 20-year old Syrian, experiences the second war in his life. The first one caught him in Aleppo, and the second one in Kharkiv. Yashwi Tripathi develops her restaurant business in Kyiv, volunteers, and says that she feels more Ukrainian than Indian. Tajik Timur joined Ukrainian Armed Forces to defend not only his family and the land he loved, but also all other nations that Russia calls “fraternal”. Shumael Khan, a medical student, plans to stay in Ukraine after his studies. He is not afraid of the war, he sees his future here.

Here are their stories.

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

“I could have gone abroad, but I want to be here in Ukraine.” Why foreigners stay in a warring country and how they join the fight against the aggressor - War. Stories from Ukraine Illustrated by Halyna Chepurna

“The man was taken to Manhush, which is near Mariupol, to clean the city. He was forced to clean up the remains of bodies. People were buried like garbage. The local man came back a week later and started talking to himself.”

“My City Was R***d, I Do Not Want to Live Here”. The Story of Tetiana and Ivan, Who Are Forced to Stay in Occupied Berdiansk - War. Stories from Ukraine Illustrated by Lidiia Holosko

Once a woman refused to leave the house that turned out to be on the battle line. Her house was being shelled, projectiles and missiles were exploding near it. There was no light, no gas, no water in it, but she remained there.

There were even no walls left from another house – a direct hit by a projectile. The whole family is in hospital. However, the elderly woman who lived in that house with her family wants to go back. To the place she was evacuated from. Where she lost everything.

But why? Read this story.

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

The Vulnerable. How Those Who Cannot Escape from the War Are Living - War. Stories from Ukraine Illustrated by Karyna Katsun

Millions of Ukrainians have been forced to leave their homes, loved ones, and sometimes their life’s work because of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

So we’ve collected three stories of small Ukrainian businesses from the Kyiv Region, Mariupol, and Berdyansk. The latter two cities are currently occupied by Russia. One of the businesses has survived the occupation and kept afloat. Another one has been destroyed by the Russians and launched from scratch in another city. The third one is suspended completely, awaiting deoccupation.

The project is produced with the support of Lviv Media Forum and EU-funded programme House of Europe.

“I’ve said goodbye to my bakery many times.” How small businesses in Ukraine survive the war - War. Stories from Ukraine Illustrated by Tanya Guschina

Villages in Chernihiv Region were under occupation for over a month. The Russians tortured, kidnapped, shot people. Oksana Zhuk from Shestovytsia tells us how Russian soldiers robbed them and drove them out of their house.

“It started at one in the afternoon, crazy shooting. My eldest ran up to me, ‘Tanks!’ Everyone hid, we sat in the cellar all day. It was dark already, five in the evening, and suddenly a car stalled on the road, an Ural. Loud roaring, we heard it from the cellar. We sit and pray, please let them start it and leave.

“And so we sit, when they open the door and say, ‘Anyone here? Let’s throw a grenade.’

“They went downstairs, pointed a rifle at my husband, my eldest son, and my youngest. They asked why we weren’t soldiers. The little ones raised their small hands, crying, ‘Don’t shoot, uncle.’ He told us to come out of the cellar. We came out, shaking, one of them pointed the gun at me, like, go to the house, show us what you got. I opened the house, they looked around, said, ‘We won’t harm you.’ They brought some canned meat to feed the kids, but we said, ‘Thank you, we don’t need anything.’

“There was this Buryat from Siberia, father of many kids. He said, ‘Don’t worry, I have three sons of my own.’ And I said, ‘So why did you come here to fight if you have kids?’ All of them as one kept saying they were mobilized for an exercise, they didn’t know they were going to war. The second day after arrival, they cleaned out our stores—and started giving kids toys from the store. Such softies, such good soldiers!

“They took my eldest son’s iPhone right in the cellar. They said they were gonna check it and give it back. I asked, I begged, but nobody gave it back. One of them would come to our place to wash up, a tall one with blue eyes. The rest would just wash up outside, but he needed to do it in the house, and we’d give him a towelie. He was their boss, so I said, ‘When are you gonna give my son his phone back?’ ‘I give you my word as an officer, we’ll give it back.’ Goddamn officer, he never kept his word.

“On the second of March, we were in another cellar. We thought we’d never come out, we said goodbye to life, so strong was the shelling. And by nine at night, all of them left for the forest. As they were driving past, one came to the cellar, pointed a rifle at my husband and said, ‘Give me two bags of potatoes and compote.’ He took two jars of compote, two bags of potatoes, and then he came back asking for the third bag. And he shot a few chickens, threw them in.

“Then those ones left, and by morning another gang came. Even more equipment, and so aggressive. They knocked out our door, broke the window and started robbing us, taking everything of value. They threw everything out of the house and settled in it. Shot like 15 chickens. They robbed the entire neighborhood. And they lived here until the ninth of March.

“They had these chevrons with hammers and sickles, and green automatic guns with silencers. These ones were cruel. They said, ‘Phones!” And I said, ‘But yesterday your people took them. Your crew, only in different uniforms. They had red Scotch tape, and you have chevrons. Do you think we’re so rich that we can give out phones every day?’

“They started taking out our belongings. Brought a huge Ural motorbike with a red cross and put everything from the house on it. Starting with cereals, salt and so on. Spoons, plates, ladles, whatever clothes they needed, bags, a pack of toilet paper. We stood there, well, what could we do, they had guns, there were many of them.

“They drove over our fence, ‘cause their tanks crossed over there, through the gardens. The Ural crushed the barn roof because it couldn’t fit in the yard. So many of them lived here. We asked them to leave the house because we have little kids. ‘No, we have instructions to be at this point, look for another house,’ they said. They said that if we’re quiet and follow all their instructions, they wouldn’t touch us. Our men had to walk around the village with buckets, as if to get water. ‘If you wanna live, carry a bucket around,’ they said.

“On the ninth of March, they finally left our house, ‘cause we’d been living in our neighbor’s cellar. We went back, put our things back in. The house was empty, they just slept on the floor. They took our firewood, heated the house with it. All the soldiers were fed from our cellar, our planting potatoes were all around the neighborhood. We still can’t find some of our things. One of them even took my mom’s boots and drove off, leaving his combat boots.”

Recorded by Old khata project. Illustrated by Dasha Klochko.

“How are you?”
“Alive.”
“I am waiting for you. We will find a way out. Don’t give up.”

This is a DM chat between 22-year-old Dasha Tsykunova and her boyfriend Illia Samoilenko, an officer of the Intelligence Department of the Azov Regiment. Dasha is currently in Brno, Czech Republic. Illia was defending Mariupol at the Azovstal plant until recently. These short and infrequent messages were the only communication they had since the beginning of the full-scale invasion.

On February 24, Illia wrote to Dasha: “It has started. Don’t worry and don’t be scared.” 5 minutes later the news feed exploded with messages about the beginning of a full-scale war. With her friend, Dasha headed to Boryspil by taxi. On her way, Dasha and Illia were texting, and they both confessed their love for the first time.

“I burst into tears. My friend asked me why I was crying if it was mutual. And I couldn’t help myself because the confessions shouldn’t have been made in DMs during a war. We hadn’t been dating for a long time, but our feelings turned out to be mutual, and I am happy about it,” the girl says.

Illia and Dasha met half a year before Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine. They were friends, talked a lot, and built plans for the future. “Before meeting Illia, I didn’t know that men like him existed. I read about knights in fairy tales, but it was a shock to meet such a person in real life. He is a man who is certain that there must be no invaders in his home, in Ukraine,” Dasha says.

Illia is a serviceman. Dasha’s father is in the military as well, so the girl knew how to maintain a relationship with someone who made this life choice. But nobody could predict the things that would happen in Mariupol, particularly at the Azovstal plant. Illia didn’t tell Dasha a lot about what they had to go through there. He supported and calmed her down instead. But the families of other soldiers told Dasha that a glass of water and a few spoonfuls of cereal was the only meal the Ukrainian defenders at Azovstal could have during the day. She also knew about the injured without any medication, and the killed who couldn’t be taken out and buried.

“It is scary that somebody can starve to death in the 21st century. Next to the wounded suffering from pain, and their dead brothers in arms who can’t be buried. Nobody would ever want to find themselves in the conditions they did,” Dasha says.

Dasha’s relatives lived in the Donetsk Region for some time. Her grandfather took part in building the Azovstal plant in the 1970s.

“I have conflicting feelings right now. My grandpa built the Azovstal, and then my boyfriend ended up there under these conditions. I’ve always wanted to visit Mariupol. But now there is nowhere to go. I never managed to see the city where my father grew up,” says Dasha.

The girl graduated from the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy. She worked as a bartender in one of Kyiv's cafes. Because of the full-scale war, she had to move to stay with her relatives in the Czech Republic. In time, she found a job there as an operator at an international company.

“I always liked to live in Ukraine. I love Kyiv very much. I had plenty of opportunities to move abroad, but I didn’t use them because I wasn’t interested. When I came to the Czech Republic, found a job, and relaxed a little bit, I saw that the situation in Mariupol was drastically getting worse,” recalls Dasha.

On the first days of the war, Dasha texted Illia that she would only be able to calm down when she hugged him. She tries to live her normal life: she works and makes herself eat and sleep to have enough energy. But there is still no calmness. She says that it will only come when Illia is next to her.

“I’ve imagined our first meeting many times. I think that when I see him, I’ll just hug him and cry. Maybe I’ll manage to say that I love him. But first I will hold him and won’t let him go. I want to finally feel that he is,” the girl says.

Dasha finds support among the relatives of other Mariupol defenders. She has recently started keeping in touch with the girls who are waiting for their husbands to come back from the war. They understand each other. Together, they addressed the world leaders and journalists with a call to save the Mariupol defenders. On May 17, Hanna Maliar, the Deputy Minister of Defense of Ukraine, announced that the operation had started. The critically injured were transported to Novoazovsk which is on the border with Russia. Others were sent to a correction facility in Olenivka near the occupied Donetsk. At least 89 more soldiers from Azovstal were taken to Russia and held at the Taganrog detention center. Ukraine is negotiating the possibility of exchange and return of Mariupol defenders to the territory controlled by Ukraine. Meanwhile, to avoid affecting the process, the authorities and families of the soldiers do not comment on the evacuation process.

At the same time, Dasha believes that it is crucial to continue telling the truth about Azov soldiers. Specifically to dispel the myth that the Azov Regiment is nazist. “The main weapon is information,” Dasha says. “It is important to emphasize that Azov is a regiment consisting of professional soldiers who have various views and have nothing to do with nazism”.

Dasha adds: “Every case of drawing attention to Mariupol matters now. Mariupol is a symbol of our freedom.”

Recorded by Tonia Andriichuk. Illustrated by Lidiia Holosko. Translated by Inna Voloska

Nature is defenseless against war. Serhiy Lymansky, the manager of the Chalk Flora Nature Reserve in Donetsk Region, knows this very well. He has seen trenches that were dug there during World War II. New ones appeared in the reserve in 2014, when Russia occupied Crimea and the eastern parts of Luhansk and Donetsk Regions. At that time, fighting took place in the territory of the reserve for four months. And now again, the Chalk Flora Nature Reserve is in the war zone. As long as he could, Serhiy Lymansky remained near the white hills that had protected him for 35 years. Until a Russian shell hit his house.

Five o'clock in the morning. It is finally quieter outside. Serhiy got out of the basement, where he hid all night, and quickly went into the house to at least wash his face. But explosions started again. They were getting closer and closer. Serhiy dropped his toothbrush, grabbed his warm jacket, and ran back to the shelter. The moment the door closed behind him, something exploded nearby. Serhiy saw shattered glass flying out of the windows, mixed with dust. It was impossible to see the gaping hole in the house through a cloud of dust. The shell hit Serhiy Lymansky's house on his birthday. On April 28, Serhiy turned 60.

"When I saw that hole, I felt such happiness... It's weird, but it was happiness. From the fact that I was not inside. That for some reason God saved me. I didn't feel like I had lost something... lost property. On the contrary, it was as if I had been given a gift of life. Of course, there is a certain pity for the house. It's a pity that my cameras were damaged, I love to take photos and I had a large archive of photos of Chalk Flora. They are also dear to me. But that's a small part of what I feel. Probably a quarter. Not in the first place, and not in the second place. Most important is the fact that I walk on this earth, I can see this sky," says Serhiy Lymansky.

The war gradually approached his village near Lyman. Serhiy heard explosions from Severodonetsk and Rubizhne almost immediately after the large-scale invasion of Ukraine by Russian troops. But they were relatively far away. Serhiy even planted vegetables under shelling: potatoes, onions, beets, carrots. At that time, he was desperately waiting for the return of his wife, who went to visit her sick mother for a few days in February. And in early March, the village where she was staying was occupied by Russians. The connection with her was lost.

"I thought I would wait for her, and we would decide what to do next. Although I didn't really think about leaving. The reserve staff still remained here. How could I leave my ship? What kind of a captain would I be if I fled? And how can I be without Chalk Flora? All my life is here. As the umbilical cord connects a child to their mother, so I am attached to the reserve,” he explains.

The very thought of having to leave Chalk Flora made him sick. But very soon the mass shelling of the village began.

“When the bombing started, I would just lay down in the cellar with my eyes wide open and thought, Why? Why do people do that? What's the point? To kill people, to bomb villages? What for? To deprive people of life, of their homes..." he says.

His two sons and their families were forced to flee. In the end, Serhiy couldn't stand it either. He spent a few more days in the basement next to the ruined house. And then he decided to leave and persuaded his subordinates to go with him.

"Villages are systematically destroyed, they are literally leveled to the ground. This is not a metaphor,” says Serhiy. “They fire cluster shells. It’s a kind of deadly fireworks. First, one projectile flies, and then it breaks into a dozen elements. And from them fly small sharp parts that damage all living things around. It's like deadly hail. If you have already fallen under it, it is very difficult to hide.”

It was necessary to escape as soon as possible. Fortunately, Serhiy's car, unlike his house, was not damaged. And with it, there was a chance to get to a safe place. The day of departure was reminiscent of Armageddon. Explosions, smoke, the smell of burning. Everything was burning around the village. Despite this, he still managed to break through. Serhiy, together with his colleagues and their relatives, traveled 1,240 km to find himself in Ternopil Region, where he was given shelter.

"If the Lord has already given you a chance to stay alive, use it," says Serhiy. But he immediately adds that he wants to go home.

"I do not feel at home here. And I don’t want to bother people here. There is a feeling that you were taken and thrown out. I have dedicated my whole life to ​​Chalk Flora. I did not work for myself. I worked for people. I wanted to preserve nature for them. I was 25 when I started working there. Imagine what’s in the heart of a man who has been cut off from his life’s work," says Serhiy Lymansky.

What’s even worse is the realization that he is unable to protect the reserve. ​​Chalk Flora is more than a thousand hectares of forest-steppe with a large number of endangered plants and the largest area of c​retaceous pines in Europe. Fires, shells that leave funnels behind, heavy military equipment that destroys the soil cover, mines—all of this threatens the unique reserve again. And ​Chalk Flora is not the only place like that. According to the Ukrainian Nature Conservation Group, more than 40% of Ukraine's valuable natural areas are in a war zone or occupied by Russian troops. And it will take years to heal the wounds inflicted by the war.

It is difficult to be away from home without knowing when and where to return. But there is something that supports him: observation of peaceful nature.

"I ran this morning to photograph the first fog. I was glad to see it. I came back wet up to my knees. I felt happy. Juicy spring. Nature must be noticed. This is important right now. It teaches us to recover, to flourish. I can see it. They couldn't take it away from me. There is this scientific term, turgor. We all need to be in turgor, stay in shape, not fade. And turgor can be maintained by filling yourself with kindness and love for your country, like a plant is filled with moisture. Then we will flourish again," says Serhiy.

Now his biggest dream is to be reunited with his family, especially his wife. She still cannot escape from the occupied city. But after at least two months of silence, she managed to get in touch with him.

Recorded by Olena Struk. Illustrated by Tanya Guschina.