Last night in Kharkiv (for now)

This is my favourite mural in Kharkiv, painted alongside one of the busiest streets, Sumska, by a street artist called Hamlet, which is his actual birth name, not a pseudonym. The words mean, "I see everything." There is a lot to see just now.

This evening I'm taking the overnight train from Kharkiv to Lviv. Then I was going to have to take an overnight bus to Krakow, Poland - a long and tedious journey - but at the last minute, I managed (with some help!) to find a rare seat on a train to Krakow. My reason for returning to England is not nice - clearing out my possessions from my house, before it becomes no longer my house (although it's nothing compared to what many people are going through here). On the positive side, I'll see my son, Sam, on a visit from Canada, and I'll also catch up with friends, in England and elsewhere. And I'll have a break from constant sirens and bombs.

As I sit, waiting for my train to leave, I'm aware that the next stop is Poltava, where the latest in a very, very long string of Russian atrocities took place this afternoon. A rocket attack partially destroyed the Institute of Communications, trapping people under rubble. As of now, 51 people are confirmed dead and 216 injured.

Overall this has been a very, very bad week for Ukraine and Kharkiv has been repeatedly targeted.

At around 4 am on 26 August (Monday) I heard a loud explosion, which was the start of the largest Russian attack against Ukraine since the beginning of the full-scale invasion in 2022: 127 missiles and 109 drones. Ukraine downed 102 missiles and 99 drones, according to the Air Force, using Western F-16 fighter jets. As well as Kharkiv, the strikes hit civilian, energy, and fuel facilities across 24 oblasts (regions), including a dam in Kyiv. Seven people were killed and 47 injured, including four children. For the first time, during this massive attack, the Russian army used a sea-based Kalibr missile with a cluster warhead, which hit a civilian enterprise in Kharkiv region.

Since this time I've lost track of the ongoing attacks - it's a week later and there have continued to be drone, missile and aerial bomb attacks, including on my last full day in Kharkiv (2 September). As I was writing this last night, another siren sounded, with a warning of guided arial bombs being launched from Belgorod Region. There were more explosions in Kharkiv city. 

The terrible low points of the past week included Friday 30 August, when a Russian-guided bomb smashed into a 12-storey residential building in Kharkiv and a park. At least seven people died, including an 18-year-old artist, Veronika Kozhushko, and a 14-year-old girl who was sitting on a bench beside a playground.

On 31 August (Saturday evening) a bomb fell in the road beside an apartment block. The crater shows what carnage there could have been.

On Sunday Russia launched about 12 short-range Iskander-M ballistic missiles against Kharkiv, which Ukraine’s air defences were unable to shoot down because the Iskanders fly at 6,000km/h (3,730mph). The rockets hit buildings across Kharkiv, including the giant, concrete "Palace of Sport" and a shopping centre. 44 people were injured, including seven children, one a three-month-old baby. Medics came under repeated attacks when they rushed to rescue the wounded, in a familiar 'double-tap.'

President Zelenskiy said that, in the past week, the Russians have launched more than 160 missiles of various types, as well as 780 guided aerial bombs and 400 drones. He has repeatedly called for the Biden administration to permit Ukraine to use US-supplied rockets against military airfields on Russian territory, which will protect Ukrainian cities and help to stem Russian advances in the east. But the White House has refused to amend its 'red lines,' and the UK and France have not given permission either, appearing reluctant to act independently from the US (Guardian news online). 

One of the many consequences of the past week's bombing campaign is that the air quality in Kharkiv is bad enough to keep windows shut. There is a  smell of burning in the air, which I'm told is made worse by forests and fields burning north of the city, in Kharkiv region.

The current situation has prompted a request for help from the Ukrainian founder (along with her husband, Egor) and administrator of Hell's Kitchen, Liuda. This is part of her message:

"Friends, you may have been following the situation in Kharkiv. If not, the city is being intensively shelled both day and night these days.

No one ever knows where the next "incoming" will be.

We would like to make the conditions for our volunteers a little safer. One of the options available to us is to apply a protective film to the windows. This 'bulletproof' film will not protect against the window glass being broken, but it will ensure that when the window breaks into small fragments, these fragments will remain glued to the film and will not fly towards people."

There is a request for help to purchase a roll of film and glue, which amounts to 11,650 UAH/$283. I have donated some money towards this, which is in our interests. It really isn't much that's needed and the request reveals how much Hell's Kitchen relies on the generosity of donors.

At the end of one of the really bad bombing days, on the dark street outside my apartment, a box of "Trauma Teddies" was delivered by a volunteer driver from Ternopil, who was delivering other aid in Kharkiv. 

 

These teddies came all the way from Aberystwyth, Wales, where a small group of indefatigable women have been knitting them since the beginning of the full invasion in 2022.

The teddies were distributed, today, by volunteers for the local charity, Adults For Children - to internally displaced children who have been forced to evacuate their homes. There are lots of lovely photos, which will be saved for another blog, to do them justice.

My little apartment and garden, which I've just left behind, is on a street called мироносицька (Myronosytska), which took me 2 weeks to pronounce! It means "myrrh-bearing," which gives it a spiritual significance, according to my volunteer friend, Olena. (Olena is a very common Ukrainian name, and so she is "Oven Olena" because she cleans the oven!) The peaceful significance  of the street name, she said, was ironic, because this street was bombed very heavily at the beginning of the full invasion.

This was the meteorological centre...

As well as the charity, Adults For Children, I'm supporting an ongoing fund-raising effort by my joint volunteer coordinator partner, Franklin, which was mentioned in the last blog: purchase of medical aid to be sent to frontline medics and stabilisation point medics, such as tourniquets and bandages. 610 UAH (Ukrainian Hryvnia) - about £11 - buys a good tourniquet and 549 UAH - about £10 - buys an Israeli compression bandage. With recent donations, medical aid was sent directly to doctors on the eastern front but much more is needed.

You can support through PayPal: bearstateteacher1@yahoo.com or:  www.buymeacoffee.com/franklinat9

The following article is a reminder that, unfortunately, corruption remains a consistent factor here, and of the importance of knowing that the recipient of your donations is trusted: https://kyivindependent.com/military-units-have-not-received-humanitarian-aid-worth-over-4-million-due-to-alleged-customs-violations-dm-says/

This has been a longer blog than usual but I make no apologies: it's been a long and difficult week, and it feels terrible, leaving friends/volunteers behind. And also, this little dog in Hell's Kitchen that had been trying to bite my hand off for weeks, has suddenly become my friend! 

I'm sure she'll have forgotten me by the time I return and I'll have to start all over again!

I've mentioned several fund-raising efforts. My PayPal site can be used for these, specifying where you would like your donation to go: 

PayPal: sunflower_house@hotmail.co.uk

Thank you for reading.