The Diary of a Scout: First 100 Days of War
The Diary of a Scout:
First 100 Days of War
Щоденник
розвідника.
Перші 100
днів війни
НВ публікує щоденник про перші 100 діб повномасштабного вторгнення Росії розвідника Збройних сил України та його дружини, які фіксували плин подій і настроїв на передовій і в тилу відповідно. Усі матеріали – фото, відео та аудіо з передових позицій під Києвом та на Донбасі - у вільному доступі з’являються вперше. Ім’я розвідника та його дружини, назви більшості локацій та справжні позивні бійців ми не розкриваємо з міркувань безпеки. Аудіозаписи, які можна почути у деяких розділах, зробив сам автор щоденника безпосередньо на позиціях. Цей проєкт присвячений воєнним розвідникам, які відзначають професійне свято 7 вересня, і іншим українцям, які захищають країну не тільки на передовій, але й у тилу.
NV is publishing this journal, covering the first 100 days of the full-scale Russian war. It was written by a scout in the Armed Forces of Ukraine, as well as his wife, recording the events and moods of both the front lines and the home front. The materials contained herein – photos, videos, and audio from frontline positions near Kyiv and in Donbas – are freely shared for the first time ever. The name of the scout and his wife, the names of most of the locations, and the actual handles of the soldiers in these recollections have been changed in the interests of security. The audio recordings, which can be heard in a number of sections, were created by the author of this journal directly while in position. This project is dedicated to military scouts and all the other Ukrainains who are defending this country not just on the front lines, but at the rear.
Prologue
Спочатку це були записки на телефоні. Калейдоскоп подій, що почалися 24 лютого 2022 року, був настільки яскравим та різнобарвним, що хотілось зафіксувати це все — і для історії, і щоб самому не загубитись у шаленому водограї життя.
Також, дещо згодом, виникли асоціації з подіями, описаними в книзі Валентина Сім'янцева «Чорні запорожці», що мали місце фактично 100 років тому з полком Чорних запорожців, військовим формуванням УНР. Паралелей напрошувалося багато. І те, як ми з боями пройшли пів України, з-під Києва на північ Сумщини, потім на північ Харківщини, зрештою на Донбас...
І те, як і сто років тому наші прадіди-козаки, а тепер і ми, били кацапів, і били гарно. І навіть те, що тактика «завалити ворога живою силою», як була у кацапів століття тому, так і залишилася зараз. Записки вийшли лаконічні та сухі — часу й енергії писати більше не було. Тож згодом я трохи розбавив їх спогадами.
Також я попросив свою дружину додати від себе те, що пройшло повз мене, змалювати паралельне життя дружини солдата в тилу, та прикрасити мої неоковирні звороти. Тож структура цієї оповіді має частини На фронті, які змальовують мої враження та спостереження, та В тилу за авторством мого серденька. Наслідуючи Доржа Бату, книги якого мені полюбилися, текст приправив посиланнями на релевантне відео, зняте під час наших розвідок та артилерійських коригувань, а також фото. Наша боротьба триває, тож усі матеріали я відфільтрував, щоб нічого зайвого не могло бути використано ворогом, імена та позивні змінив, географічні назви міст та сіл прибрав чи змінив.
Повну версію, з десятками повних відео боїв, іменами побратимів та прив'язкою до географічних назв будемо поширювати після нашої перемоги. Усі збіги, підозрілі моменти та неполіткоректні зауваги є творчим вимислом та авторською фантазією!)
At first, there were notes on the phone. The kaleidoscope of events that began on February 24, 2022 was so bright and colorful that I wanted to capture it all - both for history and so that I wouldn't get lost in the mad rush of life. Somewhat later, there appeared associations with the events described in Valentin Simyantsev's book "Black Zaporozhets," which took place 100 years ago with the Black Zaporozhets regiment, a military formation of the Ukrainian People's Republic. Many parallels became apparent such as how we fought our way through half of Ukraine, from Kyiv to the north of Sumy Oblast, then to the north of Kharkiv Oblast, and finally to Donbas... Just like a hundred years ago, our Cossack great-grandfathers, and now we ourselves, beat the Russians, and beat them handily. Even the tactic of "overwhelming the enemy with manpower," as it was with the Russians a century ago, remains the same today. The notes turned out to be concise and dry. There was no more time or energy to write. So later I diluted them a little with some memories. I also asked my wife to add something from her perspective that I would not have noticed, in order to paint pictures of our parallel lives, me at the front and her in the rear, and to also embellish my awkward expressions. So, the structure of this story has two parts; At the front, which depicts my impressions and observations, and In the rear is authored by my sweetheart. Following the example of Dorje Batuu, whose books I liked, I spiced up the text with links to relevant videos taken during our reconnaissance and artillery adjustments, as well as photos. Our struggle continues, so I filtered all of our materials, ensuring that nothing superfluous could be used by the enemy. Names and nicknames were changed, and the names of cities and villages were either changed or removed. We will distribute the full version, with dozens of full battle videos, names of comrades, and links to geographical names after our victory. All coincidences, suspicious moments, and politically incorrect remarks are a creative invention of this author's fantasy!
НА ФРОНТІ
My friends and I were preparing for the invasion. We coordinated an elaborate plan for continued communications in case we lost contact. We signed contracts with our military unit and became reservists, and devised plans for evacuating our families to western Ukraine. I took my wife and son to our relatives’ in Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast back in January… then persuaded my ex-wife to leave for western Ukraine with our children a couple of days before... I bought 4 canisters of gasoline, packed a backpack, and bought cartridges for my .308. The day before, on February 23, we went to the bathhouse with friends and chatted, once again discussing plans of action and defense for all the ‘what ifs’ we could think of. However, as the next morning proved, you can't predict everything. Although the preparation - both psychological and actual - came in handy, only the paranoid will survive, and this is only partly a joke.
At the rear →
We expected war, but not of this magnitude. After the withdrawal of Russian troops from the border in March 2021, we hoped that this time their deployment near the border was only for show and would also end with withdrawal, or at least that the war would happen somewhere in Donbas, but not in Kyiv. We started seriously considering relocating to western Ukraine after Christmas, but there was no need to rush there yet – so we stayed in Kyiv for the next couple of weeks. We went back to living our usual, "before the war" life. I made coffee in the morning, took our son to daycare, went to work, lit a fire in the fireplace in the evenings, and fell asleep in the arms of my beloved husband.
At the end of January, the war situation worsened, so my son and I took a train to my parents’ home. This did not impact my job because I could easily work remotely. My husband stayed in Kyiv because of his job, which wasn’t as flexible as mine. Besides, he was a reservist and could be called up at any moment. Of course, we were not happy about being separated, but our child’s safety was our primary concern. My husband visited us every weekend. We lit the fireplace again at my parents' house and went for a walk over the nearby mountain and river. The next several weeks were quiet and we even started to think that we had overreacted. Anyway, we bought a few canisters of gasoline, a generator, and some basic food and medicine just in case. On February 21, my husband left for Kyiv. The next time I saw him was in June.
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24.02.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
On February 24, in the middle of the night, I was awakened by Moses' call:
“Get up, the war has begun. Damn it, I'm in the village, will gather my stuff now."
“Clear. Shit. Let's get in touch soon."
I open my phone and saw headlines about the onslaught of shelling attacks. I make breakfast. As I’m doing this, I try to pull myself together. My brain is still asleep and refuses to accept the news. Although, why is it news? I see dawn outside the window, it's quiet, and the coffee is hot... Blast! I fall to the floor. Now reality is indeed the news…Watching the explosions of cruise missiles only 1.5 km away, lying on the floor in my own house, looking out of my floor-to-ceiling windows – it was scary! A nearby position staffed by National Guardsmen was hit by rockets - and it was really bright.
The mobile connection began to fray. Where should I go? Alone or with friends, according to our plan? Moses is in a village near Kyiv. Lezo and Sirko took up the evacuation of families. The women resisted, waiting to go until the last moment. At least Moses and I did it ahead of time. And it helped a lot – hands are free, you can go to war now...
I'm getting ready, packing the car. Where to go, how to link up? Finally, I agree with Moses that we will go first to Budulai to get my friend, who had previously asked to join our company and serve together when "it's bad," and then go with him in his car to the military base. At 8:30 am I finally leave. I immediately get into a traffic jam on the bypass highway. It is not clear what the cause is. I turn around and head towards Budulai using the backroads. Soon the traffic jams turn into chaos. It takes three hours for a trip which usually takes one. Eventually, we get there.In the car with me is Ricky, our black Labrador. I didn't have time to take him anywhere, so he comes with me. It is not clear where he will go next. If there is no better option, he will go to war with me. I believe in fate; it will be as it should be.
Final preparations are being made at Budulai’s home near Kyiv. We drink coffee, eat soup and load his Pajero jeep. Moses arrives on a motorcycle, on the last drops of gasoline. He somehow managed to slip through traffic, masterfully. Riding a motorcycle in February is a kind of extreme experience.
I leave Ricky with Budulai's neighbor – she will take care of him, she has experience. Phew, that's like a mountain off my shoulders, one less burden to care about.
We drive down tahe road through the villages to the district center, where the base is. It's more energizing to be in a group with a clear goal. Vasylkiv is burning. Cars are prowling the country roads, looking for ways to bypass the traffic jams on the Odesa highway. Traffic jams are happening everywhere there is asphalt. We pass a couple of convoys with self-propelled howitzers and tanks... something is standing, something had already broken at the very beginning... and somehow we quickly slip by through the villages.
We enter the main base. Here, reservists like us are already being gathered up in groups. Paperwork is done quickly, in the corridor, in 15 minutes. There we take an oath, aloud, one by one; the traditional pomp and circumstance of these types of moments are absent. We sign the oath document and are given our military ID's.
The base was bombarded in the morning before we arrived, but fortunately, none of the missiles hit their intended targets. There is still tension in the air. Everything is sped up, everyone moves quickly, and documents are signed instantly. In fact, the efficiency of the work is pleasantly surprising. There is no time to get a uniform. We understand that we need to go to our unit ASAP, as it is still light outside and there is no point in waiting. We pack back into Budulai’s car and head for the east of Kyiv, where our battalion should be.
We arrive at our unit’s headquarters after sunset, set in an old wooden building we later learn was a retirement home. We fill out some strange questionnaires. We meet Snow, an officer and our friend since 2014, then ride to our assigned positions. We are well equipped with our own old uniforms and body armor. I give Budulai my spare set of armor. I myself use my anti-shrapnel set.
At our assigned position, we understand that there is no place to spend the night here - it's night, it's dark and as far as we can see, people are sleeping everywhere, in cars and trucks, and it is still winter. It is cold. We get a machine gun and 4 magazines each and spend the night a couple of kilometers behind the position in a club, which becomes our shelter for a couple of weeks. The first night we sleep on chairs in armor, and the situation is not clear. Where is the enemy? Where are our troops? What can we expect?
This is how the first long day ends, and quite positively – we are whole, we have weapons, we are in our assigned position.
At the rear →
Mykolka, our son, didn't sleep well last night – his stomach was bothering him. So it was almost a completely sleepless night for me as well. In the morning, when he cries again, my mother comes out of her bedroom.
"The war has begun," she says.
I think that almost all Ukrainians started their day with this phrase in the morning. Somehow, I comfort Mykolka and check the news on my phone. Among the many battlefronts, there were missile strikes on Kyiv Oblast and on the Ivano-Frankivsk Airport, only 35 km from us. I call my husband. Fortunately, he picks up.
“How are you?”
“Everything is fine... well, I am shocked, like everyone else, but I am fine.” He sounds confused.
“Where are you?”
“Still at home packing, after heading out to our military unit. How are you?”
“I am ok, it's quiet here.”
“Good. We did everything right.”
He means that our decision to leave Kyiv a while before everything started was a good one. He doesn’t have to worry about us at least on this fucked-up morning. Late in the evening, he texts that he has a warm place to sleep. Good enough.
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25.02.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
All day I fly my Phantom (a drone) from my position. We monitor the frontline villages and approaches. We are waiting for a Russian column of tanks and troops, about to attack us. It is good that the battalion has been here for a couple of weeks and has prepared the positions. The troops are dug in, and the lines are clear. It would have been much more difficult if we had to start preparing from scratch.
We meet at our assigned positions with the battalion commander. He is a young guy, not yet 30, ready for war, and the soldiers respect him. Communication is non-hierarchical and to the point. We spend half the day on the edge of the village near him and the Stugna’s crew, constantly raising the drone...
We are waiting for the Russians. They do not come that day.In the middle of the day, we have a couple of tasks – jumping out to check suspicious figures. We are being used as a rapid response team – we have a car, and we are mobile.
At night we sleep in the club, also in our protective gear, but this time in the club rooms, on beds. I even manage to take a shower at night - the water is cold, but it's cool after two days of running around. My protective jacket is wet with sweat and does not dry. February is very warm for me.
At the rear →
I wake up in the middle of the night to check the news. Same in the morning, anxiously awaiting a message from my husband. Finally, he calls.
“A wife of one friend and her child are on their way from Bila Tserkva. They need shelter. I will send the number, please contact her.”
“Ok. How are you?”
“Everything is fine.”
I tell my parents that a woman and a child will stay with us for an indefinite time. I can't say that they are extremely happy about this, but they aren’t against it either. War is war. I call Zhenya (that's the woman's name). They had just left Bila Tserkva, moving very slowly. Traffic jams are everywhere. We agree to talk later.
The company I work for decided to pay salaries in advance so that people feel more secure, which is good. However, no one knows if they can pay in the future, and the banking system could collapse, which is not good. I have no emails from work. I am a lawyer, and it would be difficult to concentrate on documents anyway, considering recent events.
I call Zhenya again. She says they ran out of gasoline, but some people filled them up a bit from a gas can so they could make it to a gas station. She aims to reach Khmelnitsky, almost 300 km from our current location, where we should be picking them up. But they are still very far away from our meeting place. We agree to talk tomorrow. The whole evening, I wait for a message from my husband telling me that he is okay. Only after he texts me do I go to bed.
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26.02.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
In the morning we move forward, flying the drone over positions and carrying out reconnaissance of river crossings.
We are now given the task of escorting a military vehicle from a warehouse in Kyiv. The unit is supplied with Javelins and their rockets, Stingers, and some other munitions.
We go in two cars to meet the truck which should be waiting for us in Novy Petrivtsi. As we travel, we are shocked that there are now military checkpoints on the roads, and the new look of Kyiv. There is information about friendly fire from the Territorial Defense Forces at the checkpoints, resulting in several deaths in our brigade. There seems to be a high chance of dying from friendly fire in Kyiv now.
The truck passed by us, not noticing us on the road, so now we continue, hoping to catch up with it in Kyiv but end up intercepting it on the way. Together we head to a warehouse near the headquarters.In the warehouse, everyone is on edge, and there are new recruits with shocked eyes holding automatic weapons amid the ruins of battle. It turns out that there was just recently a battle here. SRGs (sabotage and reconnaissance groups) broke in, but were forced to retreat. How this warehouse was not crushed by rockets remains a mystery.
We are transporting cargo - a full truckload of ATGMs (anti-tank guided missiles), rockets, Barretts, and other ammunition. Yet, we’re coming back as soon as we leave the first gate out. Permission was given, and we are picking up more stuff. We refuse to be escorted by BRDM’s. I convince the chief of staff that we don't need them. It will only bring extra attention to our column and therefore add extra risk. Heading to our positions, we are in front of the line in a Pajero, followed by the MAZ, loaded up to the brink, then followed by our commander’s jeep bringing up the rear. We drive non-stop, honking at traffic lights and warding everyone off the road. Successfully, albeit exhausted and already in the dark, we make it to the base. Mission accomplished.
That day we sleep without our armor and boots but get up, as before, at 3:00 a.m. due to the high alert status.
At the rear →
I don't text my husband in order not to distract him. I assume he will text when he has a minute. In some ways, it is easier for me than other soldiers' wives, because this is the second time my husband is at war. The first time was for three months in 2015, here in Ukraine, when Russians invaded Donbas. During that time, I learned not to go nuts (in most cases) when there is no news from him for a long time. I check WhatsApp a lot, mostly when he was last online - 9.45, 10.11, 10.33, 11.20, 11.51. It helps me to worry less. My husband’s mother calls.
“Did he call you?” she asks.
“No.”
I tell her about the WhatsApp life hack. After a couple of minutes, she and my husband's father appear in this app. A son at war is even worse than a beloved at war. My father is on his way to Khmelnytskyi to pick up Zhenya and her son, but they are moving much slower than him, so my father will stay at our relatives' in Khmelnytskyi for the night and wait for them.
People are emptying store shelves in a panic in our town. I also buy a few packs of milk and diapers for Mykolka. Alcohol sales have been banned.
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27.02.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We were planning to go to Kyiv, but the trip has been canceled because the ammunition papers were not ready. The idea was to get more SUVs and drones. Around 10:00, we received orders to form defenses around our location. We are now dug in. I created a sniper position, as I brought along my 308 Wetherby. I shoot pretty well up to 500 meters. Now, information has come in about a column of Russians approaching less than 20 km away. We are getting ready. At night, there are occasional shots.
At the rear →
My father finally brought Zhenya and Stas (her son) to us. Poor child, such a long and difficult trip. As Mykolka shows him his toys, Stas starts to cry. He is exhausted. We showed them their room so they can have some rest.
The alarm in our house near Kyiv got triggered, so I called security. They pick up, and I ask them to check the house. We were actually lucky that the security did not run away. They called back shortly to say that there was no one seen near the house, that the car was parked nearby, and everything seemed to be alright. The alarm sensor was probably triggered by a blast wave, but the windows seem to be intact.
Later, our neighbors sent a photo to our local chat. There is a wall of fire behind a row of houses, ours among them, in the front of the photo. The distance between the fire and the houses is not clear. The neighbors say they called the fire brigade, but no one would come. Either they were busy or can’t get through.
Stas has a fever, and it is getting worse. We take him to the hospital, and they both stay there overnight.
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28.02.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
The morning is frosty and sunny. There's a parade of Russian tanks and troops near the town that is headed toward us. Their drone hovered over us last night. We are waiting.
We fly one of our drones and await the enemy column with our Javelin fighters on the eastern edge of the village, which is to the east of our town. However, the column doesn’t come near us today. Moses and Budulay stopped an old car which was rushing from the direction of the enemy. We received information that the Russians were using a civilian car to move ahead of their troops for reconnaissance. Luckily, Moses didn't kill the frightened rednecks in the car.
Later that day, we saw a column on the approaches to the village, but it was still too far away. Our artillery was not able to reach them.In the evening, Lezo and Sirko arrived. They had traveled for a day from Zakarpattia, where they took their families and had a very busy trip. Now there are 5 of us on the team.
At the rear →
I am visiting Zhenya and Stas at the hospital. I brought some borsch, roasted meat, and sweets. The room is fine, clean, and warm.
“Olya’s come!” says Stas when I enter the room. He seems to be feeling better.
Zhenya says that they had to go to the basement last night, and the air raid siren sounded twice. We didn’t hear it at my parents' house because it is quite remote. I don’t think we would hide in the basement even if we did hear a siren, since this region is one of the safest places in Ukraine right now. For the first time in my life, I am glad that I was born in the middle of nowhere. All of my childhood I wanted to get out of here, because it was too cramped for me in this place, but now I am here again voluntarily. Even though this region is probably the second safest place in Ukraine after Zakarpattia at the moment, the hospital has to ensure that the patients, which are mainly women and children, go to the basement when the air raid siren sounds.
After visiting the hospital, I go for a walk over the river, to get some fresh air. The snow is knee-deep, and it is cold. I call my husband's parents and they are a bit shocked. Their two-story house in Zakarpattia is full of people: relatives from Kyiv, family members of Lez and Sirko, my husband's friends. It is just like the children’s story The Mitten.
In our little town’s chats, they wrote that the fire had died down and did not reach our settlement.
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01.03.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
There is an explosion next door in the morning. We separate, sit, and wait. I am given a new drone, a Mavic 3, so I try to activate it. It does not activate for a long time, but at last, it turns on! It is a cool little toy, and has a nice zoom. That's great and right in time. I burned out all the batteries on my Phantom the day before, as I had been flying the drone all day.Lezo and I are in front of our team. The battle starts a kilometer before the bridge. I have the drone lift off, and we fly from the houses. On the frontline, mines and shells periodically explode around us.
We see an assault group of 9 units with a couple of tanks and BMPs (infantry fighting vehicles). We are in the air, and we aim our artillery and correct their fire. Direct hits, and the enemy is on fire! The orcs’ attack is choked off.
Then I lose the drone, as it was returning. I thought that it was because the enemy's radio-electronic countermeasures had worked. Later, I found out that it was shot down by some looters who were lurking in the houses nearby. They were probably thinking that I had spotted them. Bastards! They simply shot it down with a machine gun as the drone slowed down while landing.
Lezo and I scramble along the front line looking for the drone. It is dangerous and frightening, but what else can we do? Lezo eventually finds the bullet-damaged drone. Fortunately, the bullet did not damage it critically, so it got sent for repairs. It's a pity the Mavic only lasted less than a day in our hands and was lost on its very first flight. At this time, I still did not know that these drones would become actual disposables later in Donbas. Here, near Kyiv, everything is just beginning.
At midnight, Snow delivers a new Mavic! Cool. The broken one was sent for repair. It was even half-alive, albeit with a bullet hole.
The guys from Kyiv are back. They drove an old SUV here and brought a bunch of useful things, including Moses’ machine gun (a civilian one). This went to Lezo. Now we all have automatic guns.
At the rear →
Little by little, work tasks are appearing, mostly related to the war. For instance, I’ve been asked to provide legal support in arranging material aid for the company's employees, in making donations to the Red Cross (only later the Red Cross would turn out to be absolutely useless). These tasks seem to be important at the time, so I force myself to work.
Many friends from Prague have written (I lived there for several years before giving birth to my child). They offer help when needed. It is valuable. Among them is Dasha, whom I became friends with during my time studying there. She is from Moscow. I have a strange feeling about her. On the one hand, she represents what has now become the object of my hatred. On the other hand, long before the war she condemned the actions of her country and supported me a lot when I was going through a difficult period in my life. So, I answer her since she is worried.
“The least I can do is to offer you to come to Prague and stay at my place until everything is settled," suggests Dasha in Russian. “If you are not comfortable communicating in Russian, let's speak in English,” she suggests immediately.
“Thank you, I appreciate it and will keep it in mind," I write back, “but while it is more or less safe here, we will stay in Ukraine."
There are a couple more offers to live in, or get help with housing in Prague, or Poland. But I understand that while I am in Ukraine, I still have a chance to help my husband if he needs it and to see him in the end when he has the same opportunity. Abroad, I will be too far away and not able to travel with our child. And now it's winter, and crossing the border on foot in the cold with a 3-year-old child in long queues is not a great prospect. At the same time, I haven’t ruled out this option. My brother and I are determining the critical turning points at which we will need to take the children further away. Either the capture of Kyiv, the center of our government and our country, the approach of enemy troops toward the Vinnytsia, Khmelnytskyi, and Ternopil areas, and the shelling of the Ivano-Frankivsk area.
I am waiting for my husband to call. I am worried. The outskirts of Kyiv are now a hot zone. Zhenya and Stas are still in the hospital, doing some tests and procedures. It is taking longer than expected.
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02.03.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We get up at 3 a.m. automatically, even if it is not necessary. Everyone chills on the Internet, reading the news. The news is bad. Moses managed to get rockets for our corsairs (ATGMs). Fate works miracles. In such times, everything depends on trust and good people.
I launch the drone. I watch the monitor. Houses are burning. Missiles are flying, landing nearby. Our helicopters (Mi-8s) are having an impact. Russian Grads bombard the village. Poor village, poor people. On the outskirts of the village, the orcs are bringing in more tanks, trying to hide them in the trees close by. We discover them in time and chase them away with artillery.
We receive (officially!) a drone with night vision. The night flight is in a couple of hours. We launch the drone. We adjust the artillery fire, a great toy! Success!
I go to bed. It is half past two. I get up at five. I leave again for another flight. My team has decided to relieve me of all of my watch duty shifts in order to be able to continue working with the drone.
03.03.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
There is one explosion nearby in the morning and then silence. We rest. I'm setting up the drone. Aerial reconnaissance in the morning confirms that targets were hit. We again have aerial reconnaissance in the afternoon before our team goes to the battered equipment area to confiscate salvageable munitions.
A bunch of people with children are being taken to buses. The children are small, there is a stroller, wtf? I try to filter and not let these emotions into my soul. There is no time for that, and there’s a lot of work. I focus on work! There will be time for reflection and processing later. I have to work now.
Somewhere near us is one of our rocket artillery batteries. They periodically engage the enemy. Sometimes we hear them, but they are far away. At the club, we are now 12km from the front line. It is always changing because everything here is dynamic. A village nearby, 3 km away, is a battle zone. We call it the gray area.
Last evening, we flew the drone directly from our site near the club in the direction of a ‘gray’ village. It was difficult without a map at night, there was no stable satellite signal, and the enemy's electronic warfare systems were working to deactivate, among other things, our drone. One of our own troops foolishly shot a VOG (mortar artillery) in our direction. It landed far from us but had an emotional impact as it came from our own troops.
At the rear →
My husband has called. He has some free time. He is not saying much, but just seeing him via video link, and hearing his voice, is enough to give me happiness. Stas is already feeling better, I hope they will be discharged from the hospital tomorrow. I go for a walk to the river and the lake to relax. I have a smoke.
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04.03.2022
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I fly the drone from 7 am to 9 pm. We run around, constantly changing positions. The pace is crazy.
They shift and hide. It is now night, and we employ the drone’s infrared camera, but still nothing. As I land the drone, I see the battery charge is at 3%. It is difficult to navigate it at night and also obscure the drone’s location from the enemy. I'm starting to hate night flights, as they cause three times more stress.
At the rear →
Zhenya and Stas have finally been released from the hospital. This is the biggest positive event of the day.
“Did your husband get in touch?” I ask Zhenya.
“Yes, he called about an hour ago.” Her husband and mine are at the same military unit, so when either husband calls, we become calmer.
Mom says I don't look good, and she makes me eat. Maybe she is right. Mykolka is glad that Stas showed up. The daycare that Mykolka first started going to is closed, and it’s too cold outside for him to go for a walk, so he mainly spends his time in the house. No wonder he is happy he can play with Stas.
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05.03.2022
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We depart and fly the drone in the morning. Now we return. Sirko and Budulai went to Kyiv to do several tasks. We are stuck at the base, waiting for new tasks. I want to sleep all the time.
The SPG is firing again, aiming out at the edge of the village. An Orlan (type of Russian drone) is obviously spying, as we hear it all the time. I'm flying our drone, looking for it with the infrared camera. No, it is too far away, I can't see it. There are no losses despite the shelling. But they targeted and hit our CP (checkpoint) with a Stinger. Our troops escaped in time.
Several units are arriving at the base. Some scouts, special forces units, and artillery. As Moses says, it is like a pirate ship. These troop movements are stressful, because, with all these cars arriving, they are “burning” the base (attracting attention to our location). Sooner or later, this place will become a target for bombs, and a lot of them will come. Here we are sleeping on the second floor because: 1. Living in a cold basement is not an option, and 2. Although it is very risky, it is comfortable.
I run into Tamerlan, and it is a pleasant surprise. The last time I saw him was in Avdiivka in Donetsk Oblast, three years ago. Now he is here because the front is here, and it feels like it is the last barricade to Kyiv.
At the rear →
My husband calls us on video. Mykolka is very happy. He sometimes calls for his father at night in his sleep or runs to the front door hoping it is him when someone comes.
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06.03.2022
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I fly the drone both day and night. At night, every time feels like walking a tightrope. One false move could be disastrous. I hate night flights, navigating only by some spots of light on the screen.
I see a stockpile of enemy equipment in a nearby village. There are ammunition boxes, SPGs (anti-tank guns), BTRs (armored personnel carriers), and Grads (mobile missile launchers). Artillery fires periodically.
Some guy, about 30 years old, is running across the front line to Kyiv at night, which is very stupid. He is extremely lucky not to get shot. We turn him over to the police. Let them sort it out.
In the middle of the night, there is a light visible from the other side of the village, in front of the blown-up bridge. I hear shots. We discover there are several civilian men and women in a car. They had approached the blown-up bridge and turned on their car lights. There has been an order for blackout conditions during curfew hours. This helps us identify the enemy as those using lights at night. So, these people, assumed to be the enemy when they turned on their car lights, were almost shot. Who would have thought that civilians were capable of such stupidity in the middle of the night. They have now been helped across the river.
At the rear →
Now Mykolka is sick. He has a high temperature and a stomach ache. Very frail, he cuddles up with me all day. He sleeps a lot. Today is Sunday and the clinic is closed. If we go to a hospital, they will admit us and keep him overnight or even for a few days like Zhenya and Stas. We lower his temperature and wait for Monday.
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07.03.2022
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Finally I got enough sleep! But my mood is down.
I am flying the drone all day.
At the rear →
We go to the doctor; we are pleasantly surprised by the doctors' desire to help us. I have always associated state hospitals with negativity. Before today, I had not been to one for many years.
Maybe it's just that people are more united at times like these. Mykolka takes the toy train in the treatment and procedures room. I tried to put it back, but he cried.
“Does he have no toys?” asked the nurse. She thought that we were running away from the shelling and had taken little with us. Let him take it! Why make a child cry? This is not quite the case, in our month of staying here we have already bought some toys, but I do not have the strength to insist that the train be put back. Whatever, I will bring it back later.
We buy the medicine that was prescribed. We are being treated. We watch cartoons and read the news.
Colleagues from work are evacuating, especially to go abroad. From time to time, they ask for advice on documents, such as whether children can be removed without the consent of the other spouse.
Budulai's wife (my husband's friend) called. Ricky, my husband's dog, and their dog were taken by either her sister or her parents because the neighbor who was supposed to feed the dogs had also evacuated.
“It seems like it is calm there,” she says.
“Thank you. Should I send some money to buy food for Ricky?” I ask but I am not sure there is an open place to buy food for dogs, though.
“They have everything, don't worry,” she reassures me.
Before the war, Ricky lived with my husband's first wife and their children. He ended up with my husband when they evacuated to Zakarpattya. I would gladly take him with us now if it were possible. Currently he is staying with some very good people. Many thanks to them.
When Mykolka falls asleep, I go for a walk. In our town, there is an influx of people and cars with Kyiv license plates. The Russian language on the street here in the hinterlands of western Ukraine is very disconcerting. What is wrong with you people? Learn Ukrainian!
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08.03.2022
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I flew the drone from 7 in the morning to 5 in the evening... our helicopter was shot down by orcs in the field and the crew died... it happened a little ways from here, and I couldn’t fly the drone there from our positions. A pity for our pilots.
We were dodging artillery fire on our way to our assigned positions. It seems that the enemy was shooting at them by accident. Now everything is quiet, and everyone survived.
The enemy’s electronic countermeasures are working non-stop. I almost lost the drone. The second one went crazy. It is constantly changing coordinates.
Groups of special forces are at the base. They run here and there in “herds." Everything is chaotic.
At the rear →
Taking care of Mykolka distracts me from worrying too much about my husband. In my mind, I am constantly holding his hand and hugging him.
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09.03.2022
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The battle started at 6.30 in the morning on two fronts. We are on one of the front lines adjusting artillery fire by drone surveillance. The headquarters commander is next to us. We are his eyes. We often have to quickly lie flat to dodge enemy artillery. There is no place to hide, and we “dance” between the houses on the road. Shrapnel as big as a fist flies by. All attacks are thwarted, and the enemy loses 7 BMPs. It is not known how many Russian soldiers died.
On our side, one soldier is shell-shocked, and another is slightly wounded. Later a soldier is killed by a direct self-propelled artillery shot right into the shelter.
We move between positions several times. We come under BMP fire at Brown's positions. The orcs are digging out the BMPs that got stuck in the mud under the cover of their artillery. We watch for several hours as the orcs flounder in the mud. Eh, we don't have artillery, and the aiming mechanisms of our mortars are not working properly (something has been done to them). The orcs left a couple of BMPs, while the rest retreated.
We are preparing for a night departure - according to intercepted reports, the enemy is trying to bypass us from the north.
At the rear →
Mykolka is feeling better, and even playing a little with Stas. His virus jumped to me, and my stomach hurts terribly.
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10.03.2022
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We work with artillery, adjust fire, and determine targets. Our artillery is firing accurately and it’s really amazing how well it is working. Baobab (a gunner) has organized them superbly; it is a pleasure to work with him.
I am very much under pressure and exhausted flying the drone again all day under constant stress.
Budulai cooks his original solyanka recipe (a thick soup of vegetables and meat)! Delicious food is very important in such situations. There is nothing else positive here. They set me up with a new drone. I have no more strength to unpack.
At the rear →
Today is my husband's birthday.
“You should return to us whole as soon as possible!” I say to him. I hug him tightly.
He posts a picture with a pineapple. His gift from the guys. It's funny and for some reason very touching.
Last night the Ivano-Frankivsk Airport was bombed, 35 km away from us. We were sleeping and didn't hear anything. An alarm notification app is now available. I install it, but soon delete it. It howls very loudly; the volume cannot be adjusted, and it wakes everyone up. We don't respond – we don't want to torture the children. We believe there are no military facilities here as the town is small, and we live in the residential sector, on the border of a neighboring village. My brother and his family live in the center of the city in an apartment, so they go to the hallway in our home during sirens (following the “rule of two wall protection” for safety).
I'm sick, and taking the medicine prescribed for Mykolka. Fortunately, he is much better now. He plays with Stas and rubs against grandma and grandpa.
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11.03.2022
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Is it day 17? Somewhere I lost one day. So be it.
We were bombed at around 3:00 a.m. They hit us with the force of a hurricane. There are no losses on our side, but the roof is damaged, the windows are blown out, and the ceiling collapsed in the common room. Our comfortable living is no more. We were lucky to not have been attacked for so long, especially considering the constant movement of all the special forces and commanders here.
During the bombing, I rolled down the stairs from the second floor under fire, twisted, stretched, and tore the ligaments in my leg. Later that night, my leg bandages were rewrapped. Now it is terribly swollen and has interesting purple hues. I stagger all the time. It hurts and hurts, I am constantly taking Nimesil (pain medication).
We are having problems with our communications and periodically with electricity. It is bad.
We fly the drone in the morning, looking for the enemy. We search for a long time for a lost drone. I broke the new one. My mood is down. We need to find a new place to spend the night.
12-15.03.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
I got lost somewhere. Time flies during combat. You don't believe the clock.
Snow and Moses found a new house for us. Local volunteers helped. It is comfortable, and there is a cellar nearby, which we will immediately outfit as a bomb shelter.
We launch the drone many times, for many flights, and, as we search, we find our targets and adjust the coordinates accordingly. I work well with the artillery team. As soon as I give the team the updated target positions, they fire. I monitor their accuracy and send new information for them to adjust their aim and they immediately fire again. We repeat this until all the targets are hit.
My drone was shot down by their drones at night (oh, those night flights). The next day they bring me a new one. It's nice, but it's a pity for the one that got knocked down. It is all the people's money.
I worked through the next night and coordinated with the artillery team. We received intelligence that there was a Russian headquarters in the village and that a general was visiting there. The target was hit successfully. Obtaining target coordinates at night is still OK when you know the territory.
successfully. Obtaining target coordinates at night is still OK when you know the territory.We are obviously being hunted. Mortars are being fired at us, and quite precisely, as soon as I start working with the drone. I think they are now able to take our bearings from my control signal and locate our position. I am not yet certain how to deal with this. I cannot hide the drone's control signals, and communication with our artillery teams must be maintained.
Another flight, oops... A surge of adrenaline.
“Baobab,” This is Badilyaka. “I see four self-propelled howitzers (SPHs) in firing positions, already directed at us, their trunks (guns) raised.”
“Give me the coordinates.”
I find where I am on the map, determine the coordinates of the center of the group target, and transmit them by radio. Our Gvozikas (a type of SPH) begin an artillery assault, and I send new coordinate adjustments to the shelling targets and report the coordinates of the explosions. We bombed the orcs’ positions very accurately, with a direct hit that smashed the control device nearby – although there were no direct hits on their SPH.
Just then, I see a line of Grads moving in the background. Oh, what a stroke of luck! I follow where they go and take note of where they stop. I immediately send Baobab the coordinates of their location. Our Gvozdikas aim at the new target and fire. The orcs’ Grads immediately withdraw and retreat to the east at full speed.
I am as happy as a pig in mud. We got lucky and are able to detect and prevent a powerful artillery attack on our positions. There are no more orc attacks today, despite our radio interception intel stating otherwise.
16.03.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
It is morning, and we’ve discovered five armored vehicles. It is now evening and they have been destroyed. Something blew up. They camouflage the tanks between houses very carefully, but we are already aware of this trick and are able to locate them.
Three BBMs (armored combat vehicles) are discovered later (the orcs had regrouped) and more are caught during the day.
The drone has gone crazy. In the morning when landing, it took a nose dive into the ground at maximum speed. This is an example of the enemy’s EW (electronic warfare) countermeasures against us, and I am not always able to fight back against them. Well, the drone will be repaired.
In the evening, when returning from our assigned positions, a couple of Grad missile bundles and a SPH fired on us. They struck very close to us. It's a bad sign that our adrenaline responses are gone. Now there is just some kind of numbness.
At the rear →
I have recovered my health. It is getting better at work, I have more tasks, and I take my laptop to a café to work there for several hours a day. I was surprised to find out that cafes and restaurants work in the city. It is very strange, considering its wartime. There are even people there ordering drinks and food. Many are from Kyiv – I can tell by their frightened eyes and Russian language. But they could also be from Kharkiv, in fact, or from somewhere else.
The weather has warmed up. I have changed my winter jacket for a spring coat. Zhenya and I, we have become friends, and we walk our children together.. It seems to me that due to the fact that she herself is a soldier and her husband has been fighting since 2014, she reacts more calmly to everything, although I could be wrong.
“How do you live in this mode all the time? It is difficult,” I ask her.
“Well, before I was also in the ATO (the anti-terrorist operation launched in 2014 to defend the Donbas region against Russian aggression) with my husband, and this was normal. When Stas was born, my priorities changed a lot. I think more about my safety, so I haven't been to the ATO since then. We rarely see Stas’s father, sometimes once every few months. To be honest, it's difficult,” she answers.
“Stas might miss his father a lot.”
“Actually, Stas was not used to his father's presence and did not want to stay with him at first when he was at home. Only recently have they somehow begun to find a common language."
What a strong woman she is.
I go out for coffee with my brother.
“My husband hasn't appeared on WhatsApp for a long time, since early this morning, and it's almost evening. I'm worried,” I tell him.
“There is probably simply no connection.”
“Yes, I know, but I still worry.” After talking with my brother, I calm down a little.
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17.03.2022
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It’s night, a mortar is being fired and wakes us up. Now we sleep fully dressed. The light goes out.
It’s morning and we are searching for them, then sending updated target coordinates to the artillery team. Our guns score a direct hit on their headquarters. Immediately after, on the way back, we lose the drone. We are without satellite data, dealing with radio interference, and there was a strong wind which knocked it down, and then the connection with the drone was lost.
We get some reports of a high concentration of the enemy's BBM tanks in the village to the east.
We are heading to a newly-assigned position. The targets are not confirmed. Idiots on buses and Jeeps with Press inscriptions are hanging out at positions where yesterday we were bombed by Grads and SPHs. I wonder how much longer they will live. These exercises were developed at the request of the Armed Forces. Here is the link.
At the rear →
Yesterday, a bomb was dropped on the Mariupol drama theater. It is an incredibly cynical and demonstrative blow that the war is aimed at the destruction of the Ukrainian people. There’s a lot of grief around. I don't allow myself to sink into it – this is not the time, and this whirlpool is only gaining momentum. While we are in it, we need to think wisely and not miss the moment when we need to act. I have to preserve and support my child, my husband, and myself.
I go to the coffee shop where I work on my laptop in the mornings. Here on the shelf are poems by Zhadan, Andruhovych, and Izdrik. I read a few while I wait for coffee. I cling to the positive.
I meet a former classmate from lyceum. She has lived here all these years. She looks beautiful, if not perfect (clothes, makeup), and smiles.
“Have you come to visit?” she asks.
“Something like that.”
“For a long time?”
“I do not know.”
“It's a pity that you weren't at the alumni reunion, as we had a great time and I'm still impressed.”
And then it begins to dawn on me that the war is somewhere far away for her. It is something that is written in the news. This is what caused the military to cringe in 2015, and 2016 when they came back and transitioned from being soldiers to civilians. Even though the war started in 2014, civilians in most regions of Ukraine didn’t feel it back then. They sort of had their eyes closed and didn’t want to perceive the real situation. The same is happening here now. People from this part of Ukraine are not under the impact of war yet, or the impact is not that strong, letting them distance themselves and their lives from war. From one perspective, it's good that the war didn’t reach this place and that it is more or less safe here, otherwise where could we stay with Mykolka?
I'm getting back to work because I'm not in the mood for that kind of chatter.
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18.03.2022
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At the rear →
In the rearIt’s my birthday. For the first time, I put on makeup and something nice. It is such a sunny day. I buy myself a bouquet of tulips and send a photo of it to my husband.
“It's from you,” I write, “but let’s have you give it to me next year.”
I know that he is too busy to think about my birthday, but he will be happy that I sort of have a bouquet from him, I guess. Who knew that he would find the opportunity to ask my brother to arrange a bouquet of roses for me? I really appreciate the gesture. Now I have two bouquets. I put the tulips in a vase and the roses in a plastic bucket, because nothing else can fit them. Their beauty is incredible. Birthday greetings from friends somehow feel inappropriate during this time of war. And on the other hand, the reality of war is our life now. It goes on, and we have no other life, so we should be happy with what we have. Who knows what's next?
At lunch, I take a break from work, and Zhenya and I take the children for pizza. They are happy. We take another pizza home to our parents. Somehow we are not in the mood for an elaborate celebration. On the road, we see a dead soldier (“Cargo-200”) being transported.
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24.03.2022
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Some days are very active. The rest are just active :) We work both day and night from 5 am to 1 am. We aim to destroy 1-2 armored vehicles per day. We identify the targets and give the coordinates. Baobab fires effectively!
We observe orcs entering the village nearby and watch how they do it. This is the village that we were in just yesterday, doing reconnaissance with the drone. Now there are three armored groups there. It is depressing, and I get angry. Ukrainian scouts without heavy weapons in jeeps, who would normally attack these orcs, instead retreated without a fight. Was there any point in being in that village without adequate forces and means to attack the enemy? What is the purpose of war if not to be armed in order to be able to take advantage of ambush situations like this? Maybe I missed something.
Now we are hunting the orcs in that village. The distances between us are getting shorter and shorter. Now there is only 1 km between the Russian and Ukrainian positions.
And in the village to the east, there are a lot of Russian armored vehicles. They are digging in, while we are digging them out.
Lezo went to the Battalion Commander to work as his driver and bodyguard. Moses clearly pulled some strings to get Lezo this job. But it didn’t work out for him as he only kept that job for a day. The approaches to and experiences of war between Lezo and the Battalion Commander were too different, so Lezo is back on our team. I divide the guys into shifts, and that's how we work. No one can replace me at the moment, because for now only I know how to fly the drone.
Ihor, the chairman of the housing cooperative, calls me and says that our medics need my home near Kyiv as a collection point for the wounded. The front line is near my home. Well, what can I say? Moses went there and got some of our things and our car. The key to the house was given to the medics. Let's see what will remain of that house :).
It's windy today. Upon returning, I accidentally land the drone at our frontline position, and we now have to drive back there to get it, right under the noses of the Moskali (a derogatory term for Russians). The distance between our troops and theirs is only 1 km. Well, this is not fun! We realize later that it is not worth going there by car as it is too risky, but that’s the way we do it anyway.
We work from the club in the direction of the village in the north, determine the orcs’ positions, and look for their BBMs in the yards. It is convenient and easier to work here as the club has electricity to charge the drone’s batteries. It is freezing and windy outside.
At the rear →
My husband writes:
“Medics are asking if they can use our home for the wounded. I can't refuse them.”
I reply:
“I understand.”
I think about how one day my husband might also need someone to let him stay at their house.“Think about what is valuable to you. Moses will pack the things into our car and take the car to his underground parking lot,” he adds. I think about what is important to me there: the guitars, a picture of a sunset painted by me and hanging in our bedroom, a penciled portrait of my husband, also drawn by me, Mykolka's fire truck, the one he always remembers. Most things are inexpensive but have emotional value. I recall some documents, a laptop, and an e-reader. In fact, it is possible to live without all of these things. What is truly important is that we are all safe and sound. I write to my husband that I love him so he will not forget it.
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26.03.2022
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It is a strange day. We only flew the drone in the morning in a village to the east. There are strong winds, and I barely managed to bring the drone back. These weather conditions also make artillery unusable, as it is difficult to hit targets because of the wind gusts.
Yesterday we tried to hit a BMP – we chipped it but could not hit it directly. There are shell craters everywhere, and our shells today are landing 4-5 meters too far or too short of our targets. Baobab is angry about that :).
But in the morning, he expertly torched a KAMAZ (a Soviet-era truck) loaded with ammunition with only his third shot. It was right near the house. Beautiful. It would be good to burn 1-2 targets every day.
The medics have left my neighborhood, and my house is no longer needed by them. Fine. The key was given back to me. There is a chance that the house will survive.
At the rear →
I came across the song Children by Zhadan and the Dogs (a Ukrainian music group). It’s beautiful and bright despite these dark times. I wonder if there will be a song associated with war, like Warriors of Light by Lyapis Trubetskoy (a Belarusian rock band) and Together We are Many"= by Grindjoly (a Ukrainian music group) born during the last two revolutions in Ukraine. Somehow, I do not read books at all now. I do not know why, I do not want to – I can't.
It's cold outside, but sunny. We will go for a walk. My father hooked up two swings in the garden for the boys. My husband asked me to set up a video call with Mykolka. I do it for him.
Starting next week, a local daycare will open for half a day. Cheers, everyone will breathe out a little. Especially my parents, since while I am working, Mykolka is their responsibility.
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30.03.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
Yesterday, at the edge of the village further to the northeast, an enemy armored personnel carrier was hit while on the move. What incredible luck, to hit like that with a SPH from 10+ km away. The orcs must have decided that it was a Bayraktar :)
This morning, we caught a convoy exiting the village. We hit some of their tanks even though the Grads came down a little late. Although the shots were accurate, almost the entire convoy escaped harm. After returning and bustling around the village, they slipped through our hands and ran away. It's a pity that our artillery batteries cannot be accurately aimed at these moving targets with precision, as it is practically impossible to time the hits just right.
The surrounding villages are empty. The Moskali have retreated from all of them. Our troops are coming in. We are packing, waiting to move to a new place. Poor local people. There are children among them. It is just horrible. There is so much scorched land.
At the rear →
The situation at home is so-so. The fact that Zhenya and Stas have been living with my parents for more than a month is a challenge for my relatives, and they are not coping with it well. Zhenya and I have already tried to rent an apartment, as it is also difficult for me to live with my parents for a long time in my 30s. There are no vacant places to live, as there are currently a lot of people in the town. All flats to rent have already been occupied.
In general, there is an economic boom in the city. All these people who arrived from different parts of Ukraine need somewhere to eat, and something to wear. The clothes they came in with are out of season. Prices for some services are much lower here.
“How much do I owe?” asks a visiting girl in a local salon about a manicure
“250 hryvnias.”
“How much?”
“250 hryvnias,” the administrator repeats, thinking that maybe she miscalculated something because the client is too surprised.
I understand why the customer is so surprised, as the price for a manicure in Kyiv is three times higher than they are asking for here. My expenses here have also dropped significantly. This is good because the salary I am getting now is only 75% of what I used to receive, but this is still considered a very good income. After all, many lawyers from other firms have already lost their jobs. So far, however, it is not clear what will happen next: whether or not there will be work or whether I will get paid, so I do care about expenses.
There is no shortage of food in the city. In the beginning, there was a little, but not because of objective factors – but because in a panic people raked everything possible off the shelves.
At the entrance to shops, cafes, and hospitals, announcements appeared with the following message: “Dear newcomers, this is Ukraine! We speak exclusively Ukrainian. If you don't know it, then learn it! Because for us it makes a difference. It matters very much to us."
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02.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We are raiding the enemy. First, we raid in the east, then the north, and then back again to the east.
Our tasks keep changing as we move from place to place. We paint a picture for ourselves. The intel we receive is contradictory. The Moskali retreated very quickly. We see a lot of abandoned equipment. We are constantly ahead of the convoy - somehow it seems to just turn out that way. Gray villages, steep roads, local old men, people all offering food. Some are crying. It is raining and everyone is wet. We fly the drone low under the clouds. There is no front line, everything is a relative gray zone. Everyone acts with their own risks.
The battalion is on a raid. We are driving in a jeep and get tired. How the boys in armored vehicles can travel so much is a total mystery to me.
At the rear →
The Moskals are leaving Kyiv Oblast. This is very good news. There is a light at the end of this tunnel. Taking the capital city would have led the war in a completely different direction.
I feel a bit relieved when I think about my husband. They seem to be in a better position now than they were in the first month of the war. At the same time, from what he says, I understand that they are moving toward the east, and it will be much more difficult there. I support him as much as I can. In some parallel universe, I look for his hand, grab it firmly, like in arm wrestling, and hold it, building an imaginary sphere around us made out of some unknown impenetrable matter. Does it help? I don't know, but I keep doing it day in and day out.
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03.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
An obscure stop in Romny. We sit and wait for orders. The chief of the headquarters has been transferred to the battalion. It is bad. Here at the school, there is a local Territorial Defense. Warm and hearty. The canteen even feeds us. I think about the guys who have been on raids against armored vehicles for the third day, at +4°C and in the rain. Damn.
At the rear →
Everyone is depressed by the photos from Bucha that are spreading across our networks. What will happen to the children who lost their parents? How will the parents who have outlived their children keep on living?
“This is not just terrible, it is the darkest moment of humanity, and the Russian state in particular. I don't understand how it was possible to do such a thing and not go crazy. It is just as horrible as Hiroshima," - writes Dasha, who is originally from Moscow and lives in Prague (I have already mentioned her above).
“It will be even worse in Mariupol,” I write to her. Our communication is breaking down due to my hatred for everything Russian.”
“There has to be a reason for it. I had no idea that people were capable of such things.”
I don't know how Ukrainian readers will react to the fact that I communicate with her. Now social networks are overflowing with hate not only for Russians who support the war, but also for those who condemn it, living in other countries. They say that those Russians should have changed their own country, and not run away from it to now play the role of victim. I do not condemn Dasha for the fact that she left her country a long time ago. To be honest, I myself left Ukraine for the Czech Republic in search of a better future in 2014 or 2015 and returned later, not because I was such a conscious patriot then, but because of my husband. His life and business are centered in Ukraine. When we grew into starting a family, it became obvious that he would not be able to move to the Czech Republic.
“What will I do there?” he told me then, “I put so much effort into the development of my business here so I can make good money. I have all my relatives, friends here.. And yes, I love this country."
Living in two countries and raising children would be very difficult, especially with restrictions on crossing borders, which were introduced later due to the coronavirus. We should stay near the people we are closest to.
This is what convinced me to give up my work visa in the Czech Republic (which was not easy to acquire), quit my job as a lawyer (which was not so easy to get as a foreigner), and return to my homeland. Only now, like many Ukrainians, am I beginning to realize who I am, where I belong, what my country means to me, and that I want to do something not only for my future, but also for the future of this country. National consciousness is growing. Nothing stimulates development as well as a crisis.
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04.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We are now in a northern city, resting after raids. In the evening, a drone sortie searches for equipment abandoned by the orcs. They identify a BUK (self-propelled surface-to-air missile system), BRM (a type of armored vehicle), a tank, then a gun in tow. Some locals are stripping parts out of everything. Different brigades are bidding for some of the scraps. Flocks of tractors are moving through the fields, already pulling stuff elsewhere.
At the rear →
The news and people on the network are shouting about the atrocities in the Kyiv Oblast that have been discovered after the orcs’ retreat.
I cannot find an answer to the question of why people did not leave there before the conflict began, why the children were not taken away. Of course, not everyone could leave due to the lack of transport, and disabled people needed special care that wasn’t available. But there were those who could leave and decided to wait. I guess they thought that everything would get sorted somehow. Indeed, the authorities did not say a word about the need to evacuate the day before. But everyone read the news about the troops on the border, and heard Biden's speech about the invasion in the coming days. Everyone knew that the distance from Belarus to Kyiv was relatively small. I cannot explain this behavior other than as some massive, distorted perception of reality.There is conflict here at home. Stas and Mykolka sometimes get into fights. Mykolka loses more often, as he is younger than Stas. Because of this environment, my mother snaps in anger at Zhenya. It hurt Zhenya and she burst into tears.“I'm so sorry.”
I hug Zhenya and try either to calm her down or to apologize. I am indeed very sorry.
Zhenya is going to visit some distant relatives in Uzhhorod. My brother helped her organize transport. Now Mykolka and I are going to live with him. I resent my mom, regardless of the circumstances. It was inexcusable for her to do that.
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05.04.2022
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Intelligence units are being sent toward the northern border with Russia. Everyone is alerted on the way to, and at, their assigned positions, that a column of Russian tanks retreated from here a few days ago. They got stuck along the way in a muddy field near the border. It's good that they did not stay here long. A local boy, a 22-year-old activist, is helping us.
We are near our border with the Russian Federation. We can see beautiful rivers (the Vyr and the Seym) and beautiful nature. Neither country controls the border. Both civilians and orcs are wandering here and there. The day before yesterday, the funeral of an old woman was shot at because the funeral procession had to drive along the only road to the village, which happens to be along the country’s border.
Now it looks quiet on that side of the border. The orcs are not visible. Some people in the town appear somewhat pro-Russian (such people are called “cotton people”). There are half-empty shops, empty pharmacies, and a line of 100 cars waiting for fuel, but the town is actually coming to life again right before our eyes. Cell and internet connections have been restored and hope is returning.
At the rear →
Mykolka is delighted that we have moved. My brother's daughter has a lot of old toys, and Mykolka has immersed himself in them, making it impossible to tear him away. In the morning, he woke everyone up and took a plate of porridge from his cousin. We expected it to be an awkward situation. But in reality, she was glad to get rid of her porridge. It is psychologically much easier to stay at my brother’s place. I can “exhale,” feel at ease, and conclude that adult children must not live with their parents.
It is evening and we are sitting in the safety of the corridor because of an air raid alert. ("the corridor" is an area in a building where one can shelter in the inner part of a building ensuring that 2 walls, an outside and at least one inside wall, are between the people and the outdoors. Often this results in sitting in a hallway, hence the name "corridor" and sheltering here is known in Ukraine as the “rule of 2 walls.") Here in the apartment in the city center and on the 7th floor, we politely follow the “rule of 2 walls.”
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06.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We are stuck in town. We are waiting. Where will we be sent next? There is a breathing spell along the entire front. I am reading George Friedman's book, The Next 100 Years on my phone. There are brilliant thoughts that resonate with the present.
*“Anger does not make history. Power does. And power may be supplemented by anger, but it derives from more fundamental realities: geography, demographics, technology, and culture."
At the rear →
’m working. I take Mykolka and then Angelika for walks in turns. We go with her to feed the swans on the lake where I meet an acquaintance from Kyiv who is staying at a friend’s relatives’ house in a nearby village. His wife and child are somewhere in France. We talk about this and that. So many families can now be described by the currently fashionable English word “separated."
“How do you maintain a relationship with your husband without intimacy?” he asks.
“We have different challenges than you do," I answer him. “I wish my husband would write to me that everything is fine with him, and that's enough for me.”
I wonder if all these long separations will affect the divorce rate. There are women with children who live abroad on subsidies, and they will return as soon as it is safe in Ukraine, or even sooner. But there are also women with children with sufficient education and/or experience to find a decent job and “gnaw their way along” in another country, while their husbands are still here. It is not really known when they will be able to return to their wives, or whether they will get back together at all.
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08.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We are in a village that is a couple of kilometers from the Russian border. We were lucky enough to receive help from a local activist. He helps us with all kinds of issues. We live in a house with a man named Sashko. He is the owner, a young guy with golden hands, who managed to send his wife and child to the West in the first days of the war.
I fly the drone around the border. The area of operation of the squadron has been extended by 50 km which is too much. So far, it's quiet here. The orcs are strengthening checkpoints along the border, digging fortifications and trenches. We negotiated for the use of a local sauna. It’s awesome! It gives us a chance to exhale and rest. The town is small with a very close-knit community, and agribusiness is booming here. The locals approach us in the streets, shake our hands, and give us food. Wonderful! Nothing brings clarity to one’s sense of personal national identity better than a few large-caliber attacks.
Our special ops unit is entering this strange near-the-border territory. We meet a squad of local military personnel along the way, and they are very helpful in getting us oriented in this area and showing us all of the secret paths. All of the locals’ incomes are dependent on either border trade or farming. That fact is interesting.
At the rear →
I take Mykolka to daycare in the morning, pick him up at lunch and take him to my parents. My relationship with them is strained now because of the story with Zhenya and Stas, but they continue to help me with my son. I am infinitely grateful to them for that. While my son is with my parents I go to the cafe to work. I order a glass of wine as selling alcohol is allowed here from 12 to 4 p.m.
A rocket attack on the railway station in Kramatorsk is being written about in the news. The people there were evacuating, doing exactly what they were supposed to do when the attack happened. It is very cruel. It seems that a lot of people will die in this war before it ends. At night, I dream of a graveyard filled with endless rows of crosses.
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09.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
At 1 a.m., we hear “Stand to!” a combatant's call on the walkie-talkie. I fly the drone at night. We crawl forward on our bellies. At 6 in the morning, according to intel from our CP (communication point), there is something happening to the side of us, so we do two more reconnaissance flights. Such beautiful mornings and fabulous sights, rivers, fields – there are so many fantastically beautiful places here.
At the rear →
It is Saturday. I walk with Mykolka in the yard. He is in a new boyish stage of development. He is learning car brands.
“Hyundai, Ford, Volvo” - we go around the cars parked in the yard – “what is this?” – he shows me an unknown icon.
“BMW,” I tell him.
“BMW," he repeats. I send my husband a video of us walking and learning car brands.
“This bloody war is taking me away from such important things,” he says.
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10.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
At the rear →
We are having a global event. I finally put Mykolka on the pot, as up till now it didn't work. I send a photo of this magical process to my husband.
“Wow!” he answers.
“How I miss you both.”
“As we miss you.”
Mykolka and I have not seen his dad for a month and a half. It's good that at least we are not alone, but grandfather and grandmother, my brother, his wife, and their daughter are all nearby. It helps to fill at least a little of the emptiness. I can still hug Mykolka, and he can hug me, and we can snuggle up to each other. It is very important.
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14.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We are stuck here. The battalion is stretched along the 55 km border. It is quiet. I fly the drone twice today. Then we have several days of rain.
Baobab asks me to teach his boys how to operate the drone. Two soldiers arrive. I teach them how to fly it. The lesson is somewhat productive, although they are a little slow getting the hang of it. As part of the lesson, I summarize the rules for working with my team and then teach them that as well. I hand out drones. Now, supposedly, we can divide into three autonomous teams.
Today we are expecting the big drone to be delivered, which we have been waiting a long time for. Good people donated funds so it could be purchased. I studied the English manual for it. We are looking for a gimbal (a camera mounting and stabilizing device) for the drone. This drone should significantly expand our intelligence capabilities.
We drive along the border for half a day. I fly the drone. The weather and visibility are good. However, we don’t have any results. We find nothing. We pass some border villages. Some of them are dying, especially the ones that are not near transit roads. Often only three to ten houses out of a hundred are now occupied. I am seeing decline in Ukraine for the first time. It is very different from the villages in Prykarpattya and Zakarpattya.
For the first time while here in the Sumy area, we cross paths with border guards. They are behind our assigned positions, but still far from the border. It seems that they are not in a hurry to go to the border, and they are evaluating the situation. If it is quiet, then I think in a week or so they will travel to the border villages.
At the rear →
While Mykolka is at daycare, an air raid alarm goes off. I rush to the daycare to get my son. So far, the alarms have passed without consequences. May it remain so, but I am uneasy that my son is without me, in the center of the city, in a room with large windows. It is interesting to find that I am the only mother there to pick up my child.
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15.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We now have the Mavic gimbal we were looking for. We will be well-equipped.
It is a large drone, and I am learning how it works and how to operate it. I am preparing.
We confirm the location of a Russian camp on the border. In fact, they set have up tents and brought their tanks right up to the border. I felt the effects of EW (electronic warfare) for the first time here. We are planning to attack the camp. At the last minute, the night flights for reconnaissance were canceled. We are being transferred, and to hit the orc camp with artillery during the transfer was considered as not appropriate.
At the rear →
We are sitting in the corridor area because the air raid alarm went off. My niece switches on the TV and watches a cartoon in Russian.
“Angela, do you understand that now we are sitting in here because of the Moskali (the derogatory proper name for Russians) who attacked our country? And you turn on the cartoon in their language?
“Well, I couldn't find it in Ukrainian."
“Well, really, we are sitting here because of the air raid alarm, and you are watching cartoons in Russian. It is too much”!
My brother intervenes.
Once, when I was little, my grandfather had such a fight with me because I played Russian music, and I didn't understand why he was so angry. I understand now.
I never knew the Russian language very well, that is, I can communicate in it, but I don't know the proper grammar, I never learned it at school or for work. Google always translates written Russian for me.
My son will not know the Russian language at all. We have blocked Mykolka from all Russian cartoons on YouTube for a long time now. On Malyatko (a children's TV channel), they are showing a cartoon about the war - where they explain to the children what is happening.
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19.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We have been in the Kharkiv region for several days. There is no distinct frontline, only “directions” and gray areas. We hang around here (dashing around), flying the drone around everywhere, looking for the enemy, and trying to find a direction that our troops can go in.
We are staying with NGUs (the National Guard of Ukraine). Their commanders are young and uneducated. There is a big difference between them and a professional army. They haven’t taken up any positions. There are no fortifications. There is no cell or internet connection. Some are frightened, they do not know where the enemy is, and they do not conduct reconnaissance.
They are living some kind of delusion. They have two cargo 200s (a name for dead soldiers) per day. It's a dark story that is either from the work of the DRG (reconnaissance and sabotage group, similar to Navy SEALs), or perhaps they blew themselves up on something.
We spent our first night in Kharkiv, on the northern outskirts. We heard explosions all night. Kharkiv is being completely destroyed. There is a disturbing impression of an empty city with traces of destruction.
We stayed in a village right next to Kharkiv, using a house that was given by good people. The local people in this area are pro-Russian. There are no established positions, the frontline is not clearly defined.
We sit quietly, disguising ourselves. Somewhere nearby, artillery fire is heard periodically. Who is shooting and where, nobody knows. Also, there is a command and observation post of an NGU squadron nearby. The perimeter is not guarded, and there are no military posts. It is kind of strange.
We fly the drone a lot. We detect the orcs’ positions.
Tomorrow, our squadrons will finally take up positions. We will assist them before and during the process. For 3 days, we have been on our own. We broke away from our troops, and it has not been worth it for them to come here yet. I flew in the rain and lost one Mavic. I blame the enemy’s EW, or probably it just didn't survive that amount of water from the rain.
At the rear →
“How are you? Where are you?” - writes a work colleague.
“I am with my child in Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast, my husband is in the Armed Forces. Everything is good in general. How are you? How is your family?” - I answer.
“We stayed in the bomb shelter for a week, until I couldn't stand it and took my family to the Czech Republic. Your husband is a hero!”
"I don't need my husband to be a hero. Only for him to return to us safe and sound. In fact, I very much respect his choice and position in life, and I support it, and I do not complain at all about my role as a soldier's wife, because I knew what I was getting myself into."
“Irina, there will be a war,” he told me back in 2018
“And when it happens, I will go to it. People die in war. Think about whether you want this in your life or not.”
I did want him in my life, and I have not regretted my choice for a single day. It's just that we have Mykolka, and he needs a father, and his father will have many bright moments ahead of him. Maybe the Universe will also give us a daughter, and in the end, I need my husband. Keep the title of hero to yourself.
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21.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
Our objectives are confirmed.
An offensive is being planned.We discovered an orc mortar squad was discovered (and later they fired on us).
We are the first to enter the gray zone village. We received our orders and instructions that the village is ours, or rather nobody's – in other words, there are no orcs there, but we must be extra careful. Well, that is not such an easy task. Earlier we flew the drone over here but did not find anything.
When we enter, we fly the drone ahead of us and follow it in our SUV. It is effective, although it is not reliable, as we would hardly be able to detect an ambush unless it included an AFM (armored fighting vehicle). But seeing what is a kilometer ahead from the air makes us much calmer when going into the unknown.
As soon as we entered the area, we stayed behind the farthest house. We immediately flew the drone and saw a BMP (tracked infantry fighting vehicle) and two cars going along the road. Whether it belonged to our troops or the katsaps (another derogative name for the Russians) was not clear. We only had a couple of RPG-22s (single-shot, disposable, rocket-propelled, grenade launcher) for the three of us and Kalashnikov rifles. We came prepared, just in case. It turned out that it was our troops entering, but we only recognized them when they rolled up very close to us.
The night meeting with the artillery team was canceled.
Last night the enemy destroyed our mortar supply.
Plans have changed. Our convoy pulled up. We are all together again.
At the rear →
We sit in the corridor for half of the day, but humans can adapt to anything. The situation with my work seems to have stabilized. It seems that there will be work and salaries will be paid. My husband is also paid by the state, but in addition to us, he has two children and aging parents. It's important that I can provide for Mykolka and myself. I try to save a little in foreign currency just in case. I understand that I have the opportunity to give part of the money to the needs of the army. I help a relative buy necessities available for purchase for the army. I transfer money to friends who are collecting money for their own friends. You can donate to a special National Bank account opened to support the Armed Forces, but helping friends who help their friends seems more effective to me.
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24.04.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
The day before yesterday we launched our counter-offensive. It was not successful – we did not knock the orcs out of their positions. Our squadron has both dead and wounded. A tank, three BMPs, and an Igloo were lost. The reasons for the failure, in my opinion, are a critical lack of artillery preparation (we are grossly understocked), as well as insufficient intelligence due to our rushing of the counterattack, which I do not understand. I heard that someone from the higher command "kindly" pressed the squadron commanders, demanding this offensive. For what reason? Although, of course, I may not know the bigger picture.
This is my schedule from my notes for coordinating with the artillery team (Baobab told me the plan the day before):
• 4.00 get up, move to the assigned point (I determine myself)
• 5.00 communication check
• 5.20 launch the drone
• 5.30-33 Grad fires, target 1923
• 5.33-34 damage inspection 1923
• 5.34-5.36 first shot in target 1921
• 5.37-38 shooting target 1923
• Further reconnaissance and work will be done as needed
We manage to do everything perfectly on schedule. When checking our communications, we discover that the enemy is completely blocking our radio comms. It's good that I have a satellite phone in reserve, so I supply coordinate updates as needed with that.
Our Grad hits succeed and strike the enemy's cluster of AFMs (armored fighting vehicles) accurately. We blow up one URAL (a Russian army truck) and two BTRs and destroy a warehouse of fuel reserves. But one round of shells was not enough, critically not enough. We needed to shoot 10 Grads (mobile missile launchers), not one. And not only at the structure on the farm, but also at the enemy pillboxes nearby.
We hadn't really engaged the target before this counter-offensive attack, and there was a critical lack of artillery fire. In fact, not a single orc firing position was targeted and attacked. Our infantry was brave, the BTRs and our tank broke through the front line. You rock, man! But then our guys entered an area still fully controlled by Russian fire. And unfortunately suffered the consequences.
We were also being shot at with mortars during this battle. Periodically, we took cover in some of the empty pits among the ruins found in the middle of a clearing, on a hill near the village. Everything was over by 2 p.m. Everyone was upset.
It is quite clear now that our attack was doomed to fail.
Yesterday I flew reconnaissance and identified new orc positions and fortifications.
We move to a nearby town. North is nervous and shouting. It is obvious to us that the squadron commanders are tense and nervous. We cannot make plans. There is constant stress.We hear nearby explosions all night long. However, no one bothers running to the shelter. We need to sleep. We feel apathy, one of the stages of extreme and long-term fatigue – a dangerous stage.
We set up equipment so that we now have electricity. We hook up our Starlink. We are now "cool" and have Internet service:) It has been raining since last night. The weather is not good for flying the drone.
It is Easter.
My oldest son lives in France and is on vacation in Germany with his girlfriend. He looks happy. My middle son is a little bored in Zakarpattya . The youngest one is with my wife near Frankivsk. He grows and develops. Without me. I miss them.
Spring is stolen from me. My sons and wife have been stolen from me for two months! I am angry!
At the rear →
We have Easter breakfast with blessed food. In these regions, the priest conducts Easter food blessing in the evening the day before. Every half hour he goes around the church and sprinkles everything with holy water, and on Sunday, those who wish, go to a full-fledged festive service without a basket. Yesterday we went to this short version of the blessing :)
Afterward, my brother and his wife take our children to a nearby amusement park. There is a mini exhibit of Transformers. Optimus Prime is one and a half times as big as me. They have ostriches, a lion and a tigress behind a glass barrier, and a life-size sculpture of a mammoth.
I take a picture of Mykolka and send it to my husband. We miss him very much.
After lunch, we visit our parents where my mother sets a scaled down version of a traditional Easter table. Every year, Easter is a special holy holiday in these parts of the country, when the family gathers together. This year we traditionally gather, and, in fact, it is valuable that we have such an opportunity, and that during the war we have a table like every other year. Not everyone can afford it. Easter itself, as a religious holiday, passes by unnoticed. It is difficult to have a “Feast in times of Plague."
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01.05.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
It was an intense week. I didn't have time to write right away, but I am remembering.
We moved to Kharkiv. We now have our third battalion commander in only 2 months. Well, not good.
We took the village to the East of Kharkiv! Our intelligence was 100% correct. The orcs had no armored vehicles in the village, only civilian and cargo cars, as well as a well-fortified line of defense with trenches and dugouts. However, their artillery was covering them closely.
Orcs fled on foot in a herd, running through the woods.
They were caught with artillery and quite successfully destroyed.We have been with our battalion commander in the field all day, monitoring the battle and adjusting the artillery intel. Periodically, we dig into the ground as the orcs intensely shoot at us. Fortunately, their shots were not very accurate.
Our troops clear orcs from the village quickly.
A pair of our tanks work together perfectly.
In “Carousel” (one tank shoots, the other covers), shoot, cover, retreat, shoot, cover, retreat ... Beautifully done! You rock, men! Exactly 10 minutes after the troops clear the village, they had not even exited it themselves yet, the orcs cover the entire village with non-stop shots and shelling, in a mixture of all types of ammunition. As a result, 2 or 3 of our soldiers are injured. Under such intense shelling, this could only be luck. Another military unit is immediately transferred to the captured village to keep it under control.
The farm near the village is huge. Got captives there. They turn out to be from the DPR (Donetsk People's Republic - in Ukraine, an area where many Russian-backed separatists live).
By the end of the day, the farm is completely destroyed by the orcs, including a thousand dead cows. It is a terrible sight.
We move to another house on the outskirts of Kharkiv. Our landlord (God bless the good man who gave us shelter) now has the neighbors angry with him for letting us in. They are afraid that problems will come with us. Nutjobs!
Yesterday (the last day of April) we took a town east of Kharkiv. Such a beautiful town over the water. In general, beauty is all around us and it is Spring. The Kharkiv region is so beautiful.
Orcs have powerful artillery. They are using an Orlan (a Russian brand drone) to make artillery coordinate corrections and it seems that they change the drones and monitor the area around the clock. We keep moving to increase our chances of not getting hit, as soon as we stop, the bombs start coming right at us again.
Our reconnaissance of the town is correct. The situation is somewhat similar to the nearby village that was taken earlier. The Orcs there fled on foot to the north.
From the gray zone on the outskirts of town we correct our artillery target coordinates.
We are suddenly bombarded with NARs (free-flight aerial rockets) from the orcs' helicopter as they detect our car, which is stuck in the tree belt (Moses got one of our tires caught in a rut and our Jeep ended up on its belly). We are lucky that everyone is alive after such an intense bombing. Our squadron commander pulls our car out with Novator (a Ukrainian brand BTR). It is today's adventure, and it is good that everyone is safe and sound.
Now, at the orders of the squadron commander, we move to the newly liberated town and establish communication between our unit in the town and the commanders using our Starlink. The orcs completely disrupted our radio communications earlier, and the attacking unit was out of reach.
Also, on the way, we take North to the forest to have a look at our BTR, which needs repair. The night came. Today has been hard and we return to the base feeling barely alive and exhausted.
It is the next day, we correct Baobab’s artillery intel all day from a side position, where we find a good cellar on a long-abandoned farm. It saves us several times. As a result, a cluster of orc armored vehicles is destroyed by our Grads (USSR-era multiple rocket launcher) in a neighboring village, and the orcs’ squadron of self-propelled artillery, who were terrorizing the town, are discovered and driven out of their firing positions. They retreat as soon as we start firing at them. After that, we explore the area more thoroughly. We have to go there again tomorrow at 7:30. We provide supplementary reconnaissance – setting target coordinates - new intel - targeting adjustments.
SLEEEEEEEEP.
At the rear →
We rented a room in a hotel in the Carpathian Mountains for a day. These constant worries and sitting in the building interiors after alarms are sounded steal the childhood away from our children. We want them to be carefree and happy and this place is like paradise. There is a swimming pool and water slides. We also gain a bit of positivity, which was sorely lacking. In the evening we drink wine on the terrace. It's very nice around here, although it's still quite cool. At night there is an air raid alarm again, but here we sleep peacefully as the odds of a rocket landing in the mountains seems minimal to us.
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02.05.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We are collecting Intelligence. With the drone we discover a bunch of Russian vehicles, Grads (USSR mobile missile launchers) with Urals (Russian trucks) probably fully loaded with ammunition.
Our artillery aims, shoots, corrects target coordinates and shoots again. All the orcs that survived drive away.
Our commanders (the deputy to squad commander, squadron commander, and deputy to squadron commander) approach on foot to observe the details. It's nice to see commanders on the front line. However,...
“Commanders, I apologize, but this is the opinion here. You are all walking together, and, if, God forbid, a missile is shot at you then the squadron will be without a leader."
“Well, they laugh, that probably won't happen but, we can be replaced if something happens to us’’.
Well, that answer doesn’t sound very good to us. Later, the orcs discover our position. I think they have been collecting our coordinates because a GRAD rounds were shot directly at us. But our shelter in the cellar is nearby and we are able to take cover. So, everything is OK.I relax in the evening.
04.05.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We leave for reconnaissance.
“Badylaka, this is White. Take off urgently to the north of the town."
“Copy that, I'm flying the drone, I'll report in 10 minutes."
I land the drone and then launch it again in the direction of the north. Oops. So, the orcs go on the counterattack. Adrenaline in my blood increases. In fact, we aim our artillery at the group of orcs attacking us from their armored vehicles. They have 3 tanks and 8 AFM (armored fighting vehicles) and a lot of infantry. We fire a round of Grads (USSR mobile missile launchers) that successfully disable them. Their attack is stopped!
As a result, they have lost 1 tank, 2 MT-LBs (USSR amphibious multi-purpose tracked carrier), 1 BMP (soviet amphibious tracked infantry fighting vehicle) and God only knows how many "200s" (dead soldiers). At least one platoon runs away into the forest (I watch how they hustle and hide in the forest). The rest (those who survived our airstrike) run away in the armored vehicles that remained. With the drone I follow their retreat to the North. I see them driving at full speed toward the border village.
We discover that one of their modern Katsap tanks was hit and, as I found out later, by an ATGM (U.S. anti-tank guided missile) at the same time as our artillery was shooting the entire group with Grads (USSR mobile missile launchers) .
An attack is planned for tomorrow. It is not clear when I should sleep.
The squadron commander wants to search for escaped orcs using an infra-red thermal camera tonight. It is a stupid idea. At night, especially with continuous orc EW interference and detection, it is highly unlikely that an orc would be found in the forest. And it is also highly possible we would lose a drone and/or step on a mine. I hope it won't be necessary to fly at night. My fatigue is building. I have enough energy for half a day. The battle rages and everything is under fire.
Later, and for the rest of the day, I have zero energy, I crawl like a zombie.
At the rear →
Air raid alarms are a constant now, maybe it has something to do with May 9 (World War II Victory Day). At night, we go to the corridor twice, roll out some mattresses and put pillows there. We sleep there. If Mykolka is asleep when we have to go there, then it is ok, I just carry him in my arms. But when something bothers him at night - his stomach for example, as it sometimes happens, it is more difficult. He cries so not only do I not sleep, but neither does anyone else in our household. In the morning, we all go to work like sleepy flies. And air raid sirens go off again. In the evening, my husband calls.
“How are you?” he asks.
“Again, in the corridor."
“Maybe you should go to my parents?”
Zakarpattya Oblast is the most remote and seems to be the safest. My husband's parents also have a house, but even here where we live now there is no danger, in fact it is far from danger. During the air raid alarms, we politely follow the "rule of 2 walls," but we really hope that nothing will be fired here. Also, we got along quite well with my brother. Many thanks to him and his wife for this. And with Mykolka, I somehow already adjusted my regimen so that I could work more or less calmly. And going to my husband's parents is again stressful for him and for me. Once again, you have to adjust your life, look for a daycare, and somehow get along with a bunch of people living in their house.
“I am not ready for that,” I answer.
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09.05.2022
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Every day we enter the kill zone. It is exhausting.
"Lost" special forces orc soldiers from our recent battle are being hunted and captured by our troops in the forests, sometimes amid clashes.We do our work in the north of town by drone. We hear gunfire nearby and get alerted.
A guy in a jeep arrives. He says that a group of orcs attacked them, fired at them, and wounded someone. His eyes are big and round, owl-like, from stress. Everyone there immediately tenses up and runs to their positions. It turns out, five orcs who remained in the woods from the attack on the town accidentally encountered and then attacked our air defense personnel with a Stinger. Disoriented, but unwilling to lay down their weapons, they roam, looking for a way back to their units and often losing their way. We fly the drone and search for them.
We hear shooting again; I watch from the air as a group of three orcs retreat from their positions while fighting. I report to the commander. Then I see two more soldiers join them. I suggest that the commander send a BTR after them. But the commander does not want to risk the lives of his soldiers. The area is a “gray zone” and is full of landmines.
Our commander gives the order to target the orcs. Baobab reluctantly agrees, aiming the self-propelled gun at the five wandering orcs. Well, this just doesn’t seem efficient to me. I give the target coordinates and then collision detection for the moving targets. We hit them with shells on the edge of the forest. With a dozen shells, no more. Well done! There are no more of them.
The day before yesterday, we were saved by experience, preparation and the strong concrete workshops of the tractor brigade. We went to a familiar place at the start, as if there had been no flights there before. And we were shelled with SMERCHes (a heavy self-propelled multiple rocket launcher), by a cluster of orcs' rockets, a very unpleasant experience. We lay on the concrete in a corner of the workshop. It is good that we prepared a shelter in advance, and lucky, of course.It was much later, when we got an aeroscope (an electronic device showing the location of the Mavic and it operator) in our battalion, that we were able to test which of our devices and on which drones work correctly to hide our operator’s location from the orcs’ aeroscopes. Well, those days we mistakenly thought that we were invisible, when instead we were clearly broadcasting our exact coordinates to the enemy.
We are going along the already familiar forest road behind the town, for reconnaissance. The road is bad, with many bumps and potholes, and the jeep crawls along slowly, waddling. Unexpectedly, we come across several large white buses, it turns out that a Territorial Defense squad is going to be replacing our troops at the frontline position. The buses periodically get stuck in the mud, so the soldiers all jump out of the buses and push them free. They couldn't think of something better! White buses! To the frontline! In the middle of the day!
They are really lucky that they are doing this today. A day earlier, and they would have all been killed here very quickly, as it was under constant surveillance by a Russian Orlan drone. It is also lucky that the situation at the frontline had just changed so they were able to slip through. Stay away from idiots is an important rule of war. They are not only in the TRO, where I have many friends, and love and respect them all - idiots are everywhere.
The city is now freed. But today is the first day that it is not being shelled by Tornados (a type of rocket launcher). The 9th of bloody May. The frontline is moving forward. Today, we couldn’t find a single worthy target within a radius of 10 km. The squad commander says we can rest tomorrow. This is the first time since 24.02!I will finally sleep.It is Hell here. At 8:00 a.m. we receive new orders. We are ordered to leave.
At the rear →
The 9th of bloody May passes surprisingly calmly. Here we were expecting some kind of escalation.
Today is my mother's birthday. I drop by with my brother at lunch to say hello. My relationship with my parents is improving little by little, and I feel relief as I have forgiven them. I go to work, as public holidays have been canceled. (Usually, in Ukraine The 9th of May has been a public holiday since the end of WWII. It commemorated both Russian and Ukrainian veterans and civilians who died fighting side by side against fascism. After the beginning of this current war, this holiday was canceled).
“How are you?” my husband writes.
“Mykolka tried strawberries today,” I answer.
“How are you?”“I also want to see both of you, and I want strawberries."
“Hold on a little longer.”
“Ugh.”
“When the war ends, shall we have a holiday? Will you marry me?” I ask him. We never officially registered our relationship.
“Sure! Let's have a holiday/wedding celebration and a honeymoon for one week."
“Two weeks, or better, a month."
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15.05.2022
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At the rear →
The news sucks.
There is a very strong focus on the fact that the enemy is suffering losses, losing their motivation to continue, and saying that generally, only Russian morons continue to fight. It seems that the only objective information being reported is about the siege of Azovstal. I don't know how they are surviving. The enemy is strong, the enemy is better armed, the enemy is dangerous.
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16.05.2022
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I write less and less. My energy level is falling lower and lower. But when my energy level seems to fade, it recharges from somewhere else again.
It sucks that I'm getting angry. I am experiencing signs of apathy. At the same time, I am becoming more careful.
False confidence coming from experience, and fatigue, are such a dangerous combination.
The border village was recaptured by the katsaps. The front line is no longer clearly defined. It is much more dangerous now.
As we move to the edge of that village, we find ourselves in the line of fire. Miraculously, we are not hit. We learn later that an orc tank was shelling our scouts, very close to us. In fact, we were right in the trajectory of their shells. Disguised or not, in the end, everything is decided by fate.
We come across two of our TROs (Territorial Defense Forces), in the forest on the same road as us, in the area north of town. There are two jeeps, they stop, and open their doors. With wild eyes, in the middle of the forest, they aim their guns, release the guns' safeties, and I realize that their guns are aimed at us! I wave my hand and shout that we are friends not foes and ask them to lower their guns. We carefully approach and ask them what has happened. The soldier who least frightened and most present says that this is their first experience of the war. What is this? We learn that, after simply hearing explosions from the GRAD shelling somewhere nearby, they became terrified. Holy shit, we realize that they have no understanding of the situation, no intel, and no training whatsoever. They don't know what to do. It also becomes apparent that now the probability of friendly fire is off the charts. To die from friendly fire is a crappy prospect.
Orc helicopters are visiting more often now. Russian tanks are making our lives a nightmare. I have had enough! Somehow, I like this area less and less. There are a bunch of different, unfamiliar units. It is a disordered mess and communications are lacking. But the surrounding nature is very beautiful.
Nooo! A beautiful town has been totally destroyed. The Moskals have been shelling it with rockets for two weeks. Freaks!
Now we are on our way to our assignments, driving through the village along a route that we took back from the orcs. It is interesting to see the places where I had been aiming our artillery just recently. The motorway is littered with battered orc vehicles.
We celebrate the wedding of our squadron commander. It's interesting; everyone is so young. Either I am already very old, or the war is really for the young. All is quiet so I go to bed at 10:30 p.m.
It seems that they want to send us north of the Kharkiv Oblast again, to liberate villages that could not be liberated earlier. I am experiencing an interesting state of emotional exhaustion. This is the first time in my life I have had this experience. The little one, my son, is growing up without me. This bites me the most.
At the rear →
“Come here, dad is calling." I call Mykolka to see his dad via video link.
“I don't want to," he grumbles.
I hope my husband doesn’t hear this, and I tell him that Mykolka is immersed in cartoons, and it is difficult to tear him away. In fact, lately, he has started refusing to talk to his dad. It worries me. I read all kinds of articles on the Internet. They say that a child perceives everything through his own ego. For some reason, "dad is not around" (Mykolka is still too young to understand that dad is at war), and a child can be offended by this. Talking only on the phone can trigger feelings of resentment. As a result, a child begins to avoid communication with their dad.
I don't know how true all of this is, but in order to somehow find a healthier way for Mykolka, I ask my husband to read Kolobok (Roly-Poly, a Russian nursery tale) and record it when he has some free time. In addition to this fairy tale, his father also recorded for us Turnip, Three Pigs, Glove, and The Fox and the Crane. I don't know where he finds the strength and time for this, but I am very grateful to him. I turn it on for Mykolka at night, and he likes it, especially the phrase at the end:
"That's the end of the fairy tale, and Mykolka is a wonderful boy."
“If dad could, he'd be here with us, but he can't yet. He is far away."
I repeat this to my son like a mantra,
"Dad loves you very much and misses you very much. I understand that you miss him, I miss him a lot too."
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20.05.2022
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My middle son is 14 today.
I feel sorry that I'm not around. I'm angry. Communication with my son has been stolen from me.
My love, thank you, my heart, for always being there. I feel it and it holds me together.
We are in the north of Kharkiv Oblast, in familiar places. Again, they fire mortars at us. They seem to have found our location, but are not very accurate in firing, as their mortars hit 70 meters away from our position. An orc observer is sitting somewhere, and we "got made" by him while on the ridges of a hill we are on. It is now a "busted" position. We will not come here again, although it is the most convenient spot for us to operate from.
Yesterday, as we were going to a new position, we came across some buried TM (anti-vehicle) landmines. We had to turn around and look for a different position. We found a safe one, did a good job aiming our mortars, and accurately hit the orcs’ positions.
My back hurts. It seems I’ve pinched something. I hope it will pass. I can't even wear a body armor vest anymore. This is such bullshit!
I correct target positions for our mortar guns. It is accurate and I am glad, because I remember how, at the beginning of the war near Kyiv, our guys couldn't aim accurately because there was some kind of problem with the gun tubes.
We find a new launching site and it works well. The only bad thing is they have started shooting mortars at us. However, it seems that it was not because the Russians have become aware of our position, but because of a jeep that was passing nearby.
In Kharkiv, I see Tolik. He is in the foreign legion and is a unique friend. He is a role model of virtue for me to follow. It is an interesting meeting. There is chaos right now in his unit, but it is ok to have chaos sometimes, and it is good that Tolik is there, as he will bring order.
At the rear →
My husband asks me to "hold" him. I feel that it is very difficult and scary for him. I hold his hand tightly with all my inner strength, building impenetrable domes around him. By an imaginary thread, I am drawing the future to us, where we all huddle together on the sofa by the fireplace and chatter happily about something.
The number of people in our town has decreased significantly, and many refugees, in particular from Kyiv, have returned home. I want to go home very much. I want to hug my husband so very much.
“Honey, you need to mow the grass around the house, feed the trees, please do it," he writes.
I am getting around to some tasks. First, I start looking for a gardener who can do good work. I'm planning a trip to Kyiv and thinking about driving my car there. It has been parked somewhere in a friend's underground parking lot all this time. I doubt whether it's worth it, as the situation with gasoline is bad. It's not like that here, but in Kyiv, I hear it is worse. I don’t know whether I will even find gasoline to refuel the car for 700 km. I have never driven that kind of distance, and I don't know if I can handle it.
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30.05.2022
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We have been in Donbas for 9 days and fighting has been continuous for 7 of them. We spent last night in an apartment provided by a local volunteer. The apartment belongs to a party official of a group called Opposition Platform - For Life (OPZZh, a now-banned pro-Russian political party in Ukraine). In the apartment, there are banners and notebooks with photos of Medvedchuk, Rabinovitch, and Boyko (the leaders of the party).
These bastards definitely contributed to the arrival of the horror that is happening around here now. Battles rage in the Donbas region, but I won't say where exactly. Everything will be revealed when the right time comes. It is "Artillery Armageddon." We are down one car. Because we witnessed the intensity of bombardment here before, Lezo stupidly went to the frontline to help Kaban choose a sniper position. It's good that at least they are both safe. Our second car has multiple bullet holes in it. Such neat holes all over the body of the car. But at least the wheels are intact! Lucky us!
For a while, we are only protected by our trenches, which we keep digging deeper and deeper, and by luck, or our guardian angels, or whatever one believes in here.It is increasingly difficult to fly a drone. It is even difficult to stick your head out of the trench.
The Russians seem to be using better electronic warfare (EW) here, as they are destroying our drones. What's more, I lose them while landing them. The drones either crash or fall into the field, and it is impossible to find them later in the wheat fields.
There are more and more casualties in our battalion. Acquaintances whom we got to know while in Kyiv Oblast have died. Petro Vasyliovych, a great man from Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast, a master even, has died. He trained us on how to modernize our RPGs and mortars.
Rumors are circulating that Kosulya, Petro's partner, is missing. Khrom was killed (he was a BTR gun aimer). I met him at the aero club.
Rest in peace guys.
We are looking for a good launching position in a village that is being mercilessly shelled by the Moskals. In one of the surviving houses, we meet an 88-year-old man and get to know him. He has some trouble in his old age surviving under artillery fire. We leave the grandfather some tinned meat and bread, and we have to leave because it is impossible to work here. There is intense firing from all directions. Who is firing at us and from where is not clear. We cannot see because the trees are too close together and tall, which is not suitable for flying a drone.
Somewhere on our third day here, we are saved by a small trench dug by Budulai.
"Well, what should I do, dig or what?” asks Budulai as we get into our position and camouflage the car.
He asks reluctantly because it's hot, the ground is hard, and while we used to make do with ready-made shelters, there are none here at the moment. This time we brought a shovel with us, so…
“Dig!” I answer. “It may come in handy, and it certainly won't hurt. So come on, go ahead.
"Budulai begins to slowly dig into the ground, gradually sinking into the hard steppe soil. We joke and cheer him on.
Miraculously, I captured this very moment.
The nearest shell, as I later measured, struck 7 meters away from us and it's good that it wasn't the first shell in the airstrike. The three of us fit into the shallow, but timely-dug trench made by Budulai. All three of us walked away with only slight shock. My head hurt for a day, and that was it. Our car, which was parked a little further away, got numerous more neat holes all over its body. It's good that the wheels stayed intact, as well as the engine. It still runs!
Now we dig continuously in every position where we stop to work, and we change positions every day, sometimes two or three times a day. Here, without camouflage and/or a trench, we are guaranteed to be corpses in a short time.
The orcs are attacking persistently, 2-3 attacks per day. We crush them with our artillery, ideally upon their first approach, if we are lucky enough to detect and target them in time. And here we can only rely on and hope for our “eyes" (that is, drones) to guide us.
They attack again. We are under attack with all kinds of katsap artillery. We are so fed up with the constant non-stop noise of the "drums."
Our soldiers holding the first frontline of defense have balls of steel! I don't know how long they can keep this up. Multi-round, simultaneous impacts are constant.
We have ten times less artillery, maybe even 50 times. Distribution of ammunition is inventoried and being saved. We work efficiently, precisely, and with especially careful aim. This is impossible without coordinate adjustments. Why the hell are fashionable western artillery guns not given to us? Where is all the help that is written about in the news?
We created two groups of drone pilots and divided each group into shifts. Now it's a little easier. I slept all night for the first time in a week as I had only been getting 3-4 hours a day/night, and I was very sleep-deprived. My nervous system is overloaded, and I am starting to twitch with every BOOM.
Pretty soon, one pilot left the drone team (either he lost his drone, or he chickened out). Three crews remain: Rambo, Brodyaga (Tramp), and us. Eventually Rambo also ran out of drones, but he has other tasks to do in his field of professional expertise. I gave a spare drone to Brodyaga because all of his were destroyed by the Russians. Now we fly the drones from 5:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m., then he goes on duty. Our big drone helps us out a lot since it is more stable, although we almost lost it when landing it due to Russian EW.
In the town where we usually spend the night, there is shelling, and it is very intense and close to us at night, but we don't pay attention to it anymore as we need to sleep.
From conversations, including on the radio exchange, our boys are already very tired, nervous, and suffering from long-term exhaustion. There are losses every day – shell-shocked, wounded, and killed. Is this going to continue for a long time? There is nowhere to hide here, as the villages have already been leveled to the ground, and all the tree belts around are regularly and methodically shelled with artillery.
But!!! For the seventh day, we haven't moved even a meter. The so-called elite Russian f..ing paratroopers are attacking - so what?
It is evening now. It was Armageddon. We survived. We located the enemy's positions, targeted them, continued with adjustments. Now sleep.
The orcs dropped an aerial bomb on our headquarters, where we had been in the morning to recharge the walkie-talkies. There are a bunch of wounded after that. An aerial bomb was also dropped at the intersection where our last checkpoint is. It left a huge hole in the ground and a lot of dead men.
Our troops have now moved in an organized manner, from the last village to a tree belt 1.5 km away. It is good. There is no point in holding on to positions that have been destroyed by firewalls.
At the rear →
Mykolka is sick again, for the third day in a row now, his temperature is up to 39 - 40°C (102-104°F). I bring the fever down, but then his temperature rises again. We went to the doctor, and he prescribed the same treatment that he always gives. In essence, to get the temperature down. The trip to Kyiv is postponed.
Grief is coming closer. Wives, fathers, and children say goodbye to their dead husbands, sons, and fathers in posts on Facebook. They post everything that they didn't say, but wished they had, that they didn't thank them for in life. They are cries of the soul. Tears come to my eyes more and more often, I suppress them. Once I give in to my sorrow, I won't be able to pull myself back together. When this is all over, we will all be treated by a psychologist for PTSD. It's not the right time for crying yet.
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01.06.2022
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At the rear →
A local young man's body was brought into town. As he was carried through, people made a long living corridor to pay their respects. It was right for me to join them, but I couldn't. May the universe forgive me for my weakness. I myself have a husband in the war. With thoughts about this boy, his parents, wife, children, and their pain, a fear crept into me, which cannot be given free rein, because it will push me into numbness.
Mykolka must be held, and I have to also hold my husband. in my heart and my presence, constantly. I find strength from somewhere for creating and holding an even stronger shield around him. Does anyone teach magic courses on how to do this? Please, teach me how else to protect my husband.
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02.06.2022
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The artillery Armageddon continues, plus planes and helicopters. Fields are all covered with holes from the explosions. It is a land of craters.
The drones are crashing a couple of times a day now. They simply suddenly lose control and crash. I already have three broken ones on my hands and two lost somewhere in the fields. I fly a big one as it is more stable, although sometimes, even with it, I momentarily lose control.
Our trenches are getting deeper. Our days are getting longer. It's raining today. We will be "kneading" the mud.
At the rear →
Mykolka's temperature is better, I'm going to Kyiv by night train. I asked a friend to drive the car from Ilya's parking lot on the left bank to my place in Podil (in central Kyiv). I check and see if there is gasoline. There is a third of a tank and two more canisters in the trunk as it turns out. My husband had bought them before the war started. Hooray! The universe loves me.
During the departure of the train, "Stefania" (the song that won Eurovision) is playing. Maybe this is a song of war? And maybe a new one will appear.
On the train, a woman is looking for a place to charge her phone - I put it in the outlet in our compartment. She is from Hostomel. She and her husband evacuated the city when it got really bad. The rented apartment where they lived was left unlocked, so Russians would not break the door down to get in. Their flat survived, but her parents' three-room apartment was destroyed.
“Why didn't you run away earlier? Why did you wait so long? - I ask.
“We thought the Russians would come in, wander around the city for a couple of days, and then leave.
I still cannot understand this belief of the masses that they would not be touched. That everything bad that happens would somehow pass them by. Have we lived too long in a relatively safe reality where people are not randomly killed in the streets? Have we lost the instinct of self-preservation?
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03.06.2022
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Something has changed. There has been more artillery fired from our side and, it seems, less shelling from theirs. It's already almost two full weeks of this f…ing disaster. My nerves are overloaded.
Today is the 100th day of the invasion.
I haven't figured out how to rest yet. Sleep doesn't help. I'm starting to get dumb. And depression is rolling in, along with neural fatigue. Explosions make you twitch like a psycho.
At the rear →
I'm at home, I feel like I'm on another planet. I wander around the rooms and see that everything is intact and in its proper place. We just got lucky. I make myself a coffee and go out with it to our terrace. It is quiet, except for the frogs croaking in the lake nearby. I had already forgotten how quiet it is here. The grass is waist-high now... Desolation is felt everywhere in our village and in Kyiv.
On my way home from Podil (where I picked up the car), all the gas stations were out of gas. People walk the streets, but there are noticeably fewer of them. No one responds when an air raid siren goes off. In my mind, it's too soon for people to be reckless. The rest of the day I get the house and the car in order. The winter tires are still on the car. I fall asleep in my husband's dressing gown – it smells of him. And in general, there are a lot of his things here, and I feel his presence very strongly. It feels as if he will walk through the door at any moment.
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04.06.2022
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At the rear →
The gardener's crew came. As they work, I'm going to look for a place to fill my car with gas. Dad will need to be picked up at the train station. If I can find gas, he will help me drive the car. The situation with gas is difficult in Kyiv. An acquaintance gave me a coupon for KLO (a chain of gas stations in Kyiv), but it turned out to be expired. While I was driving to find a working gas station, the fuel gauge warning light lit up. I had to put gas into the tank from the reserve canister. My friends texted that there seems to be gas at a station near our village. I head back, but by the time I get there, it's gone. There were some leftovers and they sold out quickly. I am returning to Kyiv again because I have to pick up my dad. I see that there is gas at Okko (another gas station franchise). They are rationing 20 liters per car and there is a queue of 200 cars. Well, what will I do with 20 liters if I need to drive 700 km? I write to my husband.
“Do you know anyone who knows where I can get gas in Kyiv?“
In the end, I get a tip about a gas station on Bohatyrska street. There is gas, there and they fill you up without limits – but charge a higher price for it. I go there and find there are no queues, no limits, I can take as much as I need, for 65 hryvnias per liter. For me, this is a way out. So, I leave with a full tank and two full canisters.
In the evening, the boys finish the yard. Trees and bushes planted in the fall are visible now that they are not hidden by the tall grass. The currants have ripened, and gooseberries will soon arrive. It's beautiful. Our house. I'd already forgotten what it's like to be at home.Going out with friends for coffee in Obolon (an area of Kyiv). We last saw each other a year ago.
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05.06.2022
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There are a couple of attacks every day now. We find their locations and successfully aim and strike, stopping their attack and undermining their momentum.
It is evening now. I hear that the general of the orcs was killed, finding this out from Baobab earlier this evening, who saw it on the news. The idiot led two BTRs and two tanks into the attack himself. This happened at the very same place we discovered and blew up this morning. What were these idiots thinking? What motivates them to knowingly go to their death like that?
We set the aim of our M109 (American 155 mm self-propelled howitzer). This self-propelled artillery is very good, it is well-made well and works well. Our artillery is learning more and more in the process. Until recently it took a long time to set targets, but every day it is faster and better. As soon as it is aimed. it fires powerfully and accurately.
The artillery's simultaneous multi-round impact continues. We still fly the drone from points that are 1-2 km from our frontline positions. This is where the lion's share of all the artillery flies to. Dozens of tons of cluster bombs (called "breadbaskets"), shrapnel, phosphorus bombs, mortars, and shells, come at us per hour.
Our Strela (a short-range surface-to-air missile system) is somewhere behind us. It drives out when orc helicopters attack. It is pretty useless in our type of combat. It shoots, but then we receive the Russian response to that.Periodically, our self-propelled gun fires from behind us. Again, then, we feel the Russian retaliation aimed at our position.
The mortar gun periodically clears the forest in front of us and some of the forest belts around us. This luck of ours will end sooner or later. The trenches are getting deeper, but we will not survive under a direct hit. I hope that we will leave here before that happens. There is a rumor that we are going to be withdrawn.
My nervous system is feverish. My mood bounces all around the place. I have sudden outbursts of rage.I fly the drone. The orcs have a lot of tanks again. They are moving around in front of our noses. Are they new, fresh forces?
Our artillery is targeting only the clusters of tanks, which, unfortunately, are not stationary. They are constantly moving. We have a shortage of artillery guns and a huge shortage of ammunition. That's just how it is.
At the rear →
We start our trip home with my dad. I'm driving. Going along the Zhytomyr highway is scary because we can see a lot of destroyed buildings. The gas stations are not working, some are burned. There are few cars on the motorway, but that's good for me as it's easier to drive. We come across the first place still selling gas on our way in Rivne Oblast, but we don't need to refuel yet.
Dad changes places with me twice when I'm too tired to drive safely anymore. We eventually do stop at a gas station. I buy him driving glasses. They are produced by one of my husband's friends, who is now with him at the frontline. It is such a helpful thing and I have a pair too. We are caught by a downpour; it is much easier to drive with these glasses because you can see more clearly under driving conditions.We get home in the evening. Mykolka meets us.
“Mom came."
He is with his grandmother these days. Today we are spending the night at my parents'.My husband calls. He is healthy, but very tired and stressed, as he has been like that for the past few days or actually, it has already been weeks, and I can't help him. I feel powerless.
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07.06.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
I get up at 3 in the morning again.
It is now my usual pattern.Because of our assault on the Russians, 2 squadrons with self-propelled guns and one tank were forced to retreat from their firing positions and one squadron was blown up by a direct hit.
We work together with a squadron armed with M109s.
They shoot well. Every day our boys are aiming better and faster.Today a platoon of katsap airborne troops got hit by shell fragments while retreating. A big drone came to the rescue. It is much more stable under windy conditions and Russian EW. It is impossible to work with a Mavic under these conditions, as they just fall.
In general, today is quieter compared to yesterday or the day before, at least in terms of artillery fire. There are almost no cluster bombs or Grad shells. Mostly the mortars and barrelled weapons are shooting. Something big, like a rocket it seems, flew into the nearby forest belt, where we had an additional launch position. It's a good thing we weren't there yet. I feel sorry for the guys who were there.
Yesterday, we intercepted a line of tanks and IFVs (infantry fighting vehicles, armored personnel carriers), which were approaching the outskirts of the village to the south of us, by highway. We found them hiding in the woods.
One of our M109 is aimed at them while they are hiding in the belt. We make quite a stir among them as we attack. 6 IFVs "show a clean pair of heels" (quickly retreat) from the forest sometime after our fifth strike. We do a good job, hitting that group in the woods pretty hard. Well done to us! Their attack is thwarted.
From the very start of the morning, I have been monitoring the fire of 2 Russian tanks in the forest belt. They aim their muzzles at our positions in the village and shoot at our troops. We aim the M109 at them, shoot, and "kick them away."
Now we are hunting self-propelled artillery in the forest belts. It has been an intense 9 hours. Brodyaga took over at lunchtime. He strikes from a different position and sees everything from a completely different angle. That is good because we complement each other's work.
I film, from a drone, our positions being hit with cluster bombs that are spewing white phosphorus. It's good that the Russians missed them. It was such a horrendous thing to see. Unfortunately, we get used to things like this.
We are being rotated away from the front!!! 15 days of Armageddon has come to an end. Our team is given a couple of days off to catch our breath, so we immediately head to Kyiv. I haven't seen my family for 4 months. During that time, I had maybe 3 or 4 days free of having to fly the drone, get reconnaissance, note target locations, and send corrections to artillery. The degree of fatigue is just crazy.
At the rear →
My husband calls me and says that he has been given a break and can come to visit us in Kyiv. Hooray!!!
The wait is over!I'm taking a vacation until the end of the week. I'm not asking for a couple of days off, but rather I'm presenting my boss with a fait accompli (a statement of fact). I hurriedly buy train tickets, pack a couple of things, and drop by my parents to pick up Mykolka.
“We're going to see Dad," I tell him.
“Dad?” asks my son.
“Yes, we are going to meet dad.”
“To Dad…”
He begins to realize what that means and breaks into his sincere childish smile. He packs his backpack himself and jumps into the car seat. We are rushing.
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08.06.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
There are five of us crammed into a single car for one whole night of driving to Kyiv. It is extremely uncomfortable. My whole body is numb now, but I don’t care.
In the morning, I meet my wife and my son at the train station. I burst into tears in the train compartment when I saw the little one (my younger son). My nerves are overloaded.
I feel shell-shocked. I suffer from slow thinking and constant fatigue.
At the rear →
Oh. I can't believe we are finally together. I can reach out and touch my husband, hug him. His energy is broken, heavy. We will help him rest.
Mykolka could not be happier.
“Dad?”
“What is it, Mykolka?”
“BMW!”
He wants to show his dad that he knows the brands of cars.
“That’s right, son, ‘BMW’."
“Mazda.”
“Yes, that’s a Mazda."
“And what’s this?”
There are many more car brands in Kyiv than in our town.
“It's a Porsche, son."
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13.06.2022
НА ФРОНТІ
We are going back. We all had a great rest. My impressions of Kyiv are strange.
Kyiv is cool. Kyiv is empty. Kyiv is green. Kyiv is native.
Somehow, there is no anger or contempt for the men who run around and hang out in bars. Maybe they are doing their jobs, and it is important. Maybe their time will come. After all, we went through this before, in 2014 and 2015. I don’t feel anything new about it.
There are mixed feelings about the boys in uniform roaming the city – especially with weapons. It is not clear where this is appropriate and where it is not.
The situation with fuel in Kiev is stressful. Queues at gas stations and roadblocks and fairly frequent barricades made of sandbags and tank traps are not the only things that remind us of the war being here. There are many advertising banners, almost all of which are patriotic.
The vacation was very well timed. I had fun with the little one and spent some time with my wife and my middle son. We have already been assigned new tasks for tomorrow, and new areas of responsibility to be seen later. We return to the base. This war seems to go on forever.
At the rear →
Mykolka and I are going back by train until I feel safe enough to stay in Kyiv with him. It's sad to say goodbye, it's hard to say goodbye, but we are so lucky that we managed to spend a little time together: walking in the park, rollerblading, eating pizza, and drinking wine with friends on our terrace.
My husband's son hung out with us for a while. He and Mykolka do not see each other that often, but they get on really well. I hope it will continue to be so.My husband had picked up our dog from the people taking care of him all this time (big thanks to them!). Now he will go with us to Zakarpattya. So, what do we do next? For a couple of nights, Mykolka will call out for his dad in his sleep, and I will hold them both and continue to hold on to them. I will read my husband's notes, which he shared with me while on vacation. I will learn about his experiences and perspectives, about what he did not have the strength or time to tell me (thanks for that). Some of his stories will make my heart sink. I will supplement his memories with my own. Mine will be written post factum and maybe I will confuse something in the dates and days, but they will reflect the general picture of our reality in the end.
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Epilogue
I was able to summarize and organize these notes while in hospital, after having been wounded on a new assignment. I believe I am lucky.
Three 82 mm mortars hit very close to me, with the first being the closest at only 6 meters away. After the first one I was able to take shelter in a dugout, but I still managed to catch a couple of shrapnel fragments. My armor vest, helmet, and ballistic glasses all really saved me, I suffered only minor injuries. We were running a little late at the launch position and were packing up. In 10 minutes, we would have been gone. That's it. I'm angry that I was hit. I'm glad it's not bad and I will recover soon.
Now, as I am finishing this story, exactly two weeks have passed since that event. I plan on returning to the frontline in 5 or 6 days. I will have new positions, new tasks, and a new environment. We need to work to keep fighting for our country.
The war continues. Our struggle continues. Ukraine’s David will defeat the katsap’s Goliath. The only question is when and at what cost. We need to be smarter, shrewder, slyer, and faster. We never stop working on this.
NV English appreciates the assistance of Lisa Angelo and Valentina Daldal, who supported and translated this project.
You can help the unit whose service was described in this project through the charitable foundation “KOLO”
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