So I thought I’d booked a night train. Hope began to fade as I walked along the tracks in Przemysl station. No cabins and no bunks, alas.
This is my second trip to Ukraine since leaving the police service. I have a bit more of an idea of what to expect, a couple stories lined up that I want to do and crucially military accreditation. I managed to grab a couple hours of sleep on some empty chairs before the train filled up.
Getting into Kyiv I got pleasantly ripped off by a taxi from the station and dumped my bag in my capsule hotel. I really love capsule hotels, for a couple quid more than a dorm hostel you have blessed privacy and the privilege of being able to sleep without the symphony of snores from six other guys.
I pinged a few texts around to guys and girls I’d met on the last one, Dima, my fixer immediately invited me along with some Danish volunteers from freesky.dk. They are a Danish charity who help Ukrainian refugees in Denmark and fund holidays there for Ukrainian kids who otherwise wouldn’t be able to.
They were delivering a vehicle to 1 Team 1 Fight, another charity which gets essential kit to the frontline. Soldiers get in contact with them, say they need whatever it may be: a drone jammer, a vehicle or medical kit. They raise the cash, get the kit and get it to the guys who need it. They’re well liked, I counted 52 plaques given to them by grateful military units.
I met up with Dima and the Danes (That’s a band name, right there) we got in convoy and drove over to drop off the vehicle and take one of the Danish volunteers to Bucha, she’d not been to Ukraine before and it’s important to go there if it’s your first visit to the country.
I’ve been to Bucha before, at night and under an air raid alert to do a report on Russia’s murder of a surgeon and a journalist in a drone strike. In the day it’s quite different, they have worked hard to bring life back to the city. Most of the buildings are repaired or rebuilt entirely. Some scars remain, many of the repaired buildings are peppered with white dots, little marks where unpainted concrete has filled shrapnel holes. We pass a few burned out buildings that have been left, either as a memorial or simply because they haven’t got the time to fix them yet. They prioritise people’s homes.
We stop at the famous bridge which was destroyed in the early, frantic days of the Battle of Kyiv. They have built a new bridge next to where the old one still stands and set up a memorial there. Ukraine is full of memorials now.
Dima (a different Dima, he is bigger than my fixer, hence he is Big Dima. My fixer is Little Dima) lived through the first days. He points out where Russian positions were “Here a tank was shelling those buildings.” He points to one of the apartment blocks, nonchalantly.
We go to the Car Cemetery, piles of destroyed vehicles owned by the people of Bucha, Irpin and Hostomel and to the Tank Cemetery with it’s slowly rusting, burned out Russian weapons of war. They’re kept as reminders of what the Russian war machine, in all its nihilism and brutality, is capable of. One of the Danish volunteers: Maiken, hops onto the shell of a tank for a photo. I felt pensive. Those events were three years ago now and Russia hasn’t left, Ukraine is still fighting on.
We meet up with Harri from 1 Team 1 Fight briefly, Harri and both Dimas peel off to discuss some business. Shaheds had hit where we were not so long ago, the damage was covered with tarps but the area around was still dotted with broken glass and even the occasional scrap of Shahed. No one was killed in the attack, but more than a dozen were injured, including a child.
Russia bombs civilians, constantly. It is their way of war.
Those same civilians don’t give up. They donate to the army, they get kit to the frontline. They will go on to the end.