War. Stories from Ukraine

Ukrainians tell stories about their life during the war

“My little daughter is smiling and reaching for me, but I see her gone, buried in her sleep under the rubble in the basement”, Anastasiia Mikhailovska, 31, Kyiv

by | 17 March 2022 | Kyiv

 

Illustrated by Tanya Guschyna

 

“I don’t remember when exactly the Russian soldiers came to our basement. Could be March 6 or 7. I’m a bit confused with the dates. We spent 14 days underground. The night before was terrible, with heavy shelling. That was probably the day the Russians were taking over the city. The next day we heard the roar of military vehicles. Our men looked over the fence of the house we were hiding in. It was the last house in the street facing a field. And that field was full of Russian tanks and APCs. About 30 of them. And then the soldiers came to us. They said they had a mopping-up operation and were looking for nationalists,” says Anastasia Mikhailovska, a 31-year-old doctor from Kyiv.

She, her husband and their eight-month-old daughter Zoya left Kyiv on the first day of the war, when the first bombs started to fall on Kyiv. They headed for Bucha in the Kyiv Region where their relatives had a cottage. The place looked safer. After that, they planned to keep moving to the west.

When they were already close to Bucha, Gostomel was under attack. A fighter plane flew over their car, Russian troops were landing. They spent the first night in Bucha in the basement since the shelling was pretty heavy. But at that time, Anastasia and her husband didn’t realize they were trapped.

 

 

“I was shocked. I was cradling my baby and couldn’t believe the whole thing was real. I tried to fight the feeling of doom. But the thought that we were doomed never left my mind. In the daytime, I waited for the evening so that I could fall asleep and stop thinking. Strange as it may seem, I slept at night. Despite the explosions. It’s not that I had any hope. It got worse every moment,” Anastasia says.

In total, there were 16 people in that basement. Anastasia’s two cousins with their families, her aunt and two neighbors who had no basement in their house. Five girls aged from six months to eight years old, and six women, one of them nine months pregnant.

The shelling never stopped. In two or three days, the Russians started to jam cell phone signals. Uncertainty caused depression. Day after day, they kept thinking about running away. The question was how to do it with little kids and a pregnant woman. The Russians could simply shoot at the cars.

“We lived not far from the center, but in such a place where the shells never got us. Until a certain moment. One of those days, our neighbors went to their house to cook some cereal because they had a fireplace. 20 minutes after their return to the basement their house was hit with a shell. It smashed the windows and destroyed the cars. Our neighbors lost their home. I feel like that story is about someone else, not me. It was a pure terror. I tried to block the bad thoughts and made myself busy with everyday things. The situation could have been worse. At least we had some food supplies, and the neighbors who had evacuated left their keys to us and let us take anything we needed. We got food, warm clothes, used a grill for cooking and a gas burner for preparing baby food. We were lucky to have a water well nearby. We saved drinking water for children. Our little ones had no clue what was going on. Taking care of them in that basement helped me take my mind off things a bit. Were it not for my daughter, I would have lied down and stayed like that all the time,” Anastasia says.

“I feel like that story is about someone else, not me. It was a pure terror.”

The youngest children adapted easily. For the girls aged 2 and 4, it was harder. They were forbidden to run, to make noise, to leave the basement. They felt bored. The eight-year-old girl stayed calm during the day. She was glad to meet new people and told them about her school and friends. But she woke up at night and cried. She heard explosions even if there weren’t any and felt disoriented. She kept asking her mum where they were.

“There was absolutely no light in the basement. It was dark both with open and closed eyes. That gave me shivers. Me and my husband are not religious, but we prayed. All of us prayed. My only wish was to walk out of the basement and have my daughter baptized. Every morning I thanked God that we were alive, but I wasn’t sure about the next day. When the Russian troops came to stay 500 meters from our house, I felt disgusted. We realized they were actually hiding behind our backs. They could shell the town without any risk. The Ukrainian military wouldn’t fire back because our houses were too close,” Anastasia says.

“All of us prayed. My only wish was to walk out of the basement and have my daughter baptized”

At the same time, the Russian troops in Bucha split into groups to search houses. Finding the basement where Anastasia and her family hid was just a matter of time.

“Some of them stole money and a handwatch. Some of our neighbors had their tires cut. Luckily, they left our cars undamaged. The Russians told us they were looking for Banderites. The first thing they did was take our phones and break the SIM-cards. They talked to us as if they really saw themselves as peacemakers: “Don’t worry, we bring peace. We’ll come and set you free. We’ll kill your president and bring the normal authorities. Give us 2 or 3 days. Everything will be fine.” We didn’t argue to avoid provoking them. We listened quietly, and they thought we agreed with them. We answered their questions and told them there were many women and children there,” Anastasia says.

The moment of interrogation was the scariest.

The next day, their men wrapped themselves into white flags and went to the center of Bucha to find out if it was possible to evacuate.

“We came to the first Russian checkpoint and confirmed the information about evacuation. In an hour, we got into our three cars and set off. That day they blocked the evacuation bus but let the cars pass. My aunt freaked out. At every checkpoint she asked whether they would shoot at us. At one of the checkpoints, we met the soldiers who came to our basement. They told us the same thing: “We wish you peace and an easy delivery. Come visit us sometime”… While driving, we saw APCs along the road that peeped from between the houses like cockroaches. We wondered whether they would fire. And the next thought was: whatever, anything’s better than the basement,” Anastasia says.

“My aunt freaked out. At every checkpoint she asked whether they would shoot at us”

She didn’t cry even once during those two weeks. But she almost burst out crying when, finally, the Ukrainian military were checking their car, treating them with hot meals and speaking Ukrainian.

Now Anastasia tries not to think about the past peaceful life. It hurts her even to browse photos on her phone. She had the same feelings when she walked into her Kyiv apartment knowing that she had to take some things and run further. Now Anastasia, her husband and daughter are staying in Lviv.

“When we were in the basement, I had a dream about a safe place. The war goes on, but I hear no explosions. I was walking with Zoya, and my husband came home after work. The dream must have been prophetic. When Zoya turned 9 months, we went to the center of Lviv, ate some cake and bought a toy. We tried to pretend everything is OK,” Anastasia says.

It’s just that nothing is ok.

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