We receive the request: four people; six cats; two stops. The village of Shevchenko: only 2.5 kilometers from the active fighting between Ukrainian and Russian soldiers. The area: hot. We know the risk, we have taken it many times. Far too often, perhaps. It’s bound to go wrong at some point, isn’t it?
It almost went wrong before. Back then. In Bachmut. When we were fired upon by Russian mortar shells. But back then, the danger posed by drones was far less than it is today. And drones are precise. They are cheap. Perfect for Russian terrorists to attack anything and anyone, whenever they feel like it.
It is December 2nd. Pilip and Anton leave our base in Kramatorsk with two cars: our armored van and a backup car – an SUV. They have the equipment with them: tool bags for the cars, first-aid bags. We know the area and we are always informed about the current situation on the ground. But even the best security precautions can’t protect us from the arbitrariness of Russian soldiers.
Be quick, efficient, safe
The journey takes about an hour. The two drive southwest to Dobropillja, passing long fields, and crossing the railroad tracks at the edge of the small town. From there it’s only a few kilometers to Pokrovsk. Tall rows of trees line the country road. Then they finally arrive in Pokrovsk. They first drive northwest to Hryschne to park the replacement vehicle in a safe area. Anton gets into our Bronik van with Pilip. After that, it’s only south. Further and further. The area is getting louder. The passing cars are getting rarer. But still: the situation seems manageable.
In Shevchenko, everything happens very quickly. Anton and Pilip find the first address. The women are already standing at the gate, bags and cats are waiting with them for the journey into an uncertain future – but at least one that is a little safer than their current one. They get into our armored, white van with the large inscription “Волонтери” – which translates as “volunteers”. The word “Евакуація” – “evacuation” – is written in large red letters on the bonnet. The fourth person who made a request has already fled with the team from another organization.
Anton and Pilip waste no time. It takes them seven minutes to get the women into the van. A soldier comes to them and says that another person needs to be evacuated. But when asked, this person declines. So they drive off again – as our security protocol requires. In, pack up, out. Be quick, efficient, safe.
Especially in such areas, we can’t get into long discussions. The risk of being targeted is just too high.
The Shock
Then the shock. On the way back to Pokrovsk, the team had just reached the village of Zvirove when an FPV drone hit the roof of the van. The women scream. The van hardly flinches. The armor absorbs most of the impact. You can feel and hear very little. Still, the shock hits. Pilip steps on the gas, but Anton says calmly, “Not faster.” The most important thing now: stay calm, drive safely. They can’t afford to make any mistakes, can’t afford to crash. Anton turns to the women, asks if anyone is hurt. No one is. But everyone is shaken. The panic is palpable, the women scream, pray. Anton speaks calmly, explains to them that the car has withstood the impact well and that they will soon be in Pokrovsk. “It’ll be over soon,” he says, continuing to talk to them.
Then, around a curve, comes the second impact. This time it is much more violent. It hits from the side, breaking through the door. Fire breaks out, the van fills with smoke. One of the women sitting near the door is injured. An entry wound near the eye, blood on her thigh. Anton calls back, asking if the other women are also injured. Another one is, but not seriously. The more seriously injured woman does not have a life-threatening haemorrhage, but the wound is serious. Anton decides that it is now important to stabilize the situation, not to climb into the back. He gives the woman equipment so that she can take care of herself. The goal is clear: to get out of danger.
When they arrive in Pokrovsk, they immediately find a safe place to stop. Coincidence or luck: an ambulance is nearby. The medics arrive quickly, cut open the injured woman’s trousers and find numerous shrapnel wounds in her leg and foot. A tourniquet is applied. Then the woman loses consciousness. It is not the blood loss, but the shock that causes her to collapse. She is 74 and suffers from heart problems. But the medics quickly bring her round and transport her to the hospital in Dobropillja.
In Hryschne, the women change to our replacement vehicle, in which Pilip will take them to Pavlograd. From there, they will continue their journey. Anton is driving to Kramatorsk in the van. On the way, he stops at a gas station, drinks tea. He goes shopping for food and wonders in which parallel worlds they live in. One a permanent risk, the other a normal everyday life. Drone attack – tea. Casualties – avocado in the supermarket. They seem so far apart. And yet they are only a short drive away.
This whole situation once again illustrates the conditions under which we do our work. The terrorist state of Russia is deliberately attacking humanitarian aid workers and civilian infrastructure to lower morale – or simply to kill. But we will not stop helping. Now more than ever, humanitarian aid is important. Every life is worth protecting, which is why civilians must be evacuated from the war effected areas.
Help us to continue this work. To get our Bronik roadworthy again, we especially need your donations. Just click on our donation button and mention “Bronik” as reason. Every euro, every hryvnia, every dollar counts.