Evacuees from Ukraine try to maintain “some sense of home” – DW – 07.09.2024

“Leaving your home is really hard. The fear of having to go to another city is sometimes greater than the fear of death,” said Hennadiy Yudin, an officer in the special police unit that calls itself “White Angels” and helps Ukrainians evacuate from conflict zones.

Accompanied by Yudin and three of his colleagues, we drive through the streets of Myrnohrad, a mining town in the Donetsk region, southwest of the Russian-occupied city of Avdiivka in eastern Ukraine.

The Russian military is moving closer to Myrnohrad every day, the front line is now less than ten kilometers from the city. Myrnohrad is regularly under fire, and as a result the city's population has fallen from around 47,000 to less than 2,000, according to local authorities.

The police unit “White Angels” takes people out of the city in an armored minibus. The vehicle contains bulletproof vests and helmets in all sizes, for children and adults.

“There are practically no children here anymore,” says Yudin. “There are still two families with children looking for accommodation. [elsewhere] but they will go away on their own.”

The authorities cannot force residents to move, Yudin explains. He himself had to leave his hometown of Avdiivka and therefore knows how difficult it is for people to give up their homes.

“Avdiivka is a good example. There is no functioning hospital there, nor an ambulance service. There is no one there to help with an evacuation,” says Yudin. This is how he often convinces locals to evacuate.

Russian drone attacks are increasing

Today, the White Angels are on their way to pick up two men who want to be evacuated. They live on the southern edge of the city, which is often the target of Russian drone attacks.

But when the team arrives, they cannot find the men. They try to contact them by phone. Meanwhile, we hear the loud barking of a neighborhood dog. There are a few dogs on the streets, most likely left behind when their families were evacuated.

It turns out that one of the men, Vitaly, is walking to Pokrovsk, where the evacuation trains leave from. The police team catches up with him and helps him load his luggage into the minivan. Then they find the other man, Sergei, at a bus stop. He is there with three women, but they say they are staying – for now.

“We can do this,” one of them says to the team.

The police drive on towards Pokrovsk. The two men in the car look sad and hardly speak. A bus is waiting for them in Pokrovsk, which is supposed to take them to Pavlohrad in the east of the Dnipropetrovsk region. Then they go on to a shelter for displaced people in Kropyvnytskyi.

City population is declining

Pokrovsk is located southwest of Myrnohrad. According to the regional authorities, 26,000 people still live in the town, which once had around 60,000 inhabitants. Of those who remain, about a thousand are children.

Pokrovsk is still quite busy in the morning. Locals stroll through the streets where markets and vegetable stalls sell their wares. One of the vendors, Natalya, says she will consider evacuating once she has sold everything.

“Where should I go?” she asks. “Not everyone can afford to rent another apartment.”

Another trader, Sergei, says he would like to stay, but he wants his child to be taken to safety.

Around midday, Pokrovsk station is bustling with activity. A few pensioners are sitting on a bench on the platform, surrounded by large bags.

“Do you see what's happening here?” Volodymyr tells us. He means the shootings and the bombings. That's why he and his wife Halyna are leaving the city.

“It is so sad that our city is being abandoned,” adds Halyna.

The couple has rented a house in a village in the Dnipropetrovsk region and is gradually moving there. “But you can't take everything with you at once,” says Volodymyr, shrugging his shoulders. He is also afraid that his pension will not cover living expenses in the new home.

A 24-hour journey west

80-year-old Lyubov is also waiting at the station. “I don't know if I can survive all this,” she admits, and says that it will take her 24 hours to get to the western Ukrainian city of Lviv. From there she wants to continue on to the Carpathian region.

The elderly woman is assisted on her journey by a soldier sitting next to her. He is also waiting for a train to Western Ukraine. He and some of his comrades managed to escape from the town of Novohrodivka, which was captured by the Russian army at the end of August.

Rescue workers and volunteers help people with reduced mobility to board the train.

“It would be better to die than to live as an invalid,” says Ludmila, 85, who comes from Rodynske. Sitting next to her on the train are her daughter Nelya and Nelya's mother-in-law Kateryna, who is 85 years old.

Nelya says the three decided to leave because “it’s getting pretty loud here and the police have already called us. [about evacuating].” Her teenage son and older daughter are waiting for her in the Ukrainian capital Kiev. From there they want to travel to Finland together.

“It's sad to leave the place where you were born and grew up,” Nelya continues. As she speaks, her mother begins to cry. The trio had previously decided not to leave the house, but when Rodynske became deserted, they agreed to evacuate.

Important workers remain

The time has come. Anyone who doesn't want to go must get off now, says the conductor. At the last moment, student Victoria jumps up. She has just left her mother Svetlana on the platform. Svetlana is crying because she wants to get on the train too.

“But we have to stay for another month,” explains Svetlana, whose farm is in the village of Novovasilovsky. “We have to take the combine harvesters to the fields and sell the cows.”

She says she deeply regrets having to leave the farm, but knows how dangerous it would be to stay.

Another man on the platform looks through a train carriage window: his wife and son are sitting inside, the son is waving. The man cannot leave yet; he has to continue working in a coal mine for the time being. “One day, two days, one week – nobody knows how long the mine will be in operation,” he says.

As the train sets off, another elderly man stops on the platform. “I'll take the next train. It's already full,” he says, although he knows there are still enough seats inside.

“Smile,” he encourages his wife as she looks at him through the window. As the train pulls away, he waves to his wife and then quickly leaves the station, covering his face with both hands.

“Take a piece of home with you”

The curfew in Pokrovsk begins at 3 p.m. and after the train departs, the city streets quickly empty. Every now and then, military or police vehicles drive by.

“This city used to be such a beautiful, vibrant place. It was the best,” says Dmytro, a local.

His wife and 18-year-old daughter have already been evacuated and he says he will probably leave soon, too. He just wants to pack a few things first.

“I want to take a piece of home with me,” explains Dmytro and then invites us into his home to show us the possessions that are dear to his heart.

“Here are my roots,” he says sadly.

This article was originally written in Ukrainian.