This happened – April 18: An earthquake hits San Francisco

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1 basement

She and her mother lived around the corner. She was crying constantly but it didn’t bother us. Sometimes we would play cards by candlelight and Nicole would start crying. I would take her in my arms and rock her comfortably. Andrey says proudly.

On certain days, because of the bombing, people would not leave the dugout to make a fire. “We had to fill a bottle with water and heat it on our bodies to try to dilute the infant formula as much as possible for Nicole to eat.”

You rarely meet anyone on the streets.

Nicole and her family left for Russia. “It was the only safe way out for them,” Andrey says.

Now, Andre has an entire underground lodge and human warehouse. It has beds, refrigerators, a kitchen corner and a small living room. Paintings hang on the walls of the shelter, some of them painted by Andre himself, some by local artists. Many of them were drawn by children who were hiding there from the bombing.

Post offices, pharmacies and shops are operating again in Izium. Communications work well and electricity, water and gas are generally reliable.

“The last bombing was in September, thank God,” says Andrei’s friend Oleksandr. “People slowly return to the city in the spring, although you will rarely meet anyone on the streets. Previously, people were forbidden to return because of the cold. But now it is getting warmer, and the soul wants to go home.”

schools in Donetsk

On the roads, you see the wreckage of battle: the remains of burnt equipment, signs reading “Beware: Mine” stand next to destroyed trees, and wrecked villages where nearly every home has been razed to the ground. There are no people to see.

The village of Rubetsi, in Limansk, also escaped occupation from April to October, and suffered great destruction. Russian troops destroyed a third of residential buildings, all infrastructure, a school, a fire station, agricultural enterprises and equipment.

Local residents have not had electricity for over a year.

Now, fortunately, the village has not been bombed. Springlife is already back: people are sitting on benches outside, emergency workers are mending electrical wires, and roads have been partially restored.

Besides gas and water, local residents have not had electricity for over a year. Gas recently came in and electricity is on the way. “There would be light, there would be water,” says Andrey, a local resident. “It’s easier for those who have a well, but everyone else has been without water all this time.”

In the building there is an improvised school. In a small, crowded room, a class of students of different ages is sitting at their desks – those who do not have the means to connect to online lessons at home. The school has light, communication and warmth. About 20 children go to school, 17 of them are local residents, while the rest come from nearby villages.

“We started classes in November. Children study according to the program of an all-Ukrainian electronic school. We try to keep up,” says teacher Natalya, who supervises the children.

Sloviansk-Kramatorsk-Druzhkivka: Under the eyes of the enemy

Spring is beginning to be felt more in the cities, and life is becoming more vivid. In Sloviansk, people walk the streets, some are in a hurry to do business. Among them were many soldiers in the town’s cafes and restaurants. Business is back up again, and even a large children’s toy store is open. There are now places to visit above ground. Communications are working in the city, but are still regularly interrupted by bombing.

As we walk down the street sipping coffee, the air raid alarm goes off twice. Here, 45 kilometers from Bakhmut, the war is more visible than in Kiev. Especially when you pass a house that was half destroyed by a Russian missile in September. But few people here heed the alarm signal, and Sloviansk still lives at its own pace, without breaks in search of shelter.

However, the city is bombed very often: during the bombing on March 27, a man was killed, 25 people were injured, and seven residential buildings were damaged.

“About a month ago, the central street was almost deserted, but now people are coming back for the summer. Everything comes alive,” says Lasha, a military medic. He says the army here is talking about a counterattack, but no one knows when, how and where it will happen.

In Kramatorsk, the streets are crowded. The city lives its own life, only 50 kilometers from the front. Public transportation is working, shops and pharmacies are open, electricity, water and gas are available. As in Sloviansk, things are normal, but the war still sometimes breaks off.

Of the 150,000 people in Kramatorsk, 68,000 remain. About 5,000 of them are children.

We have no other choice but to fight until victory.

In March, Russian forces blanketed the city center with cluster munitions and bombed residential buildings, killing two civilians and wounding 10 others. On the night of April 10, the Russians attacked the city cemetery. The day before, the nearby town of Drozkivka had been hit by a missile, injuring two people and damaging eight homes. On March 27 the town’s orphanage was completely destroyed.

Druzhkivka is the last stop on our way. It’s spring in the city, and there are not many people on the streets. Nearby, workers were sweeping through a grocery store yard, making small talk. Against the background of bird voices, explosions can be heard.

Along with this escort, combat medic Serhiy shares his observations about the situation at the front: “Here, it is hardly possible to hold the defense. What will happen with the attack, what we will attack with, we do not know. But the only thing we know for sure is that we simply do not have No other choice but to fight until victory.”

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