Children of War

(Olivier Del Fabbro)

Not far from the river Dnieper, between Kherson and Mykolaiv, close to the Black Sea, an archipelago of rural and simple villages expands in a seemingly endless steppe. Between the villages emerge vast fields of yellow wheat and blue skies, meadows of red poppies and purple loosestrife and innocent cattle grazing peacefully. Are they aware that with every step they could walk on a mine and get blown up? The only safe way to drive to these villages is the bumpy and sandy beige country road. Beyond that is nothing but probable mutilation and death.

Villages such as Novokyivka, Myrne or Myroliubivka belong to the cluster of villages that was under Russian occupation for eight months after the Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. Life is simple but honest in these rural villages. They count a couple hundred inhabitants, of which not even a hundred are children. In what follows, these children talk about their experience of the war and what the last months have been like for them.

Vasyl

Vasyl is eleven years old. He has dark black hair, red cheeks and a round face. One leg crossed over the other, Vasyl gesticulates as he speaks and appears self-confident and mature. A grown-up disguised as a young child. Born and raised in Novokyivka, he has never left his hometown. This, it seems, is where he belongs.

Shortly before the Russian invasion, Vasyl, his sister and his parents prepared themselves. They saw the war coming, so they stored food and water, covered the windows with wooden panels and hid in the basement. Vasyl was afraid and nervous. Even though he knew it was coming, Vasyl had always hoped the Russians would not invade his village. He was scared that they would destroy everything. But then it all happened rather quickly. Within a couple of days, the Russians had occupied the entire village, positioned their artillery, dug trenches, build bunkers and planted land mines in the fields. Fear was Vasyl’s constant companion – every minute of every day. After the Russians invaded, running water and electricity were no longer available, which led to a progressive deterioration of the living situation. Vasyl’s house was more than just his home, it became his safe house. He was never in direct contact with the Russians and avoided them as best as he could. For an eleven-year-old, it’s difficult to get used to that kind of situation. Vasyl and his family were in hiding for eight months, until finally, they were liberated by the Ukrainian Armed Forces.

It’s only after the liberation that Vasyl could go back to school – one lesson a day. Before and during the occupation, lessons were held sporadically at the teacher’s house. Vasyl is happy to go back to school. He finally feels like a normal child again because he can experience what everybody experiences. And, more importantly, he can study again. Because when he grows up, Vasyl wants to become smart, that’s his dream, but even more than that he wants to become a construction worker and rebuild destroyed houses in Ukraine.

When the Ukrainians freed the territory, the Russians couldn’t leave quick enough. He heard gunfire, bombs and explosions. He saw the tanks and the weaponry. For so long they were waiting to see Ukrainian soldiers, and when they finally arrived, they were welcomed with joy. Vasyl and his friends and family shouted: “Glory to Ukraine.” Ukrainian soldiers are his heroes.

Now, Vasyl is happy that the Russians are gone. He can live a full life and spend time outside with his friends without being afraid of getting hurt. The distant yet constant and prominent noise of the artillery shelling close to Kherson doesn’t scare him. Everything’s demined, that’s more important to him. It is only in his dreams that the war resurfaces from time to time, and the only way out is to pray.

Nataliya

Nataliya is a ten-year-old girl. Blue eyes, red cheeks, long blonde hair and a pensive gaze. Depending on the intensity of the fighting, she lived either with her parents in Kherson or with her grandparents in Novokyivka. Nataliya experienced both rural and urban warfare.

The scariest moment for her was when a rocket hit the neighbour’s house in Kherson. At the moment of the lethal impact, Nataliya was with her grandparents in Novokyivka, but when she saw the destroyed house, she realised that it doesn’t take much to die. An experience so vivid in her memory that more than a year later, when the Kakhovka Dam got blown up and the water came close to her home in Kherson, she felt the same fear again. 

For Nataliya the fear comes over and over again. Only her grandparents can give her a sense of safety, especially now that the countryside has become less dangerous. In Kherson, the roaring sound of artillery shelling is still omnipresent. During the occupation, Nataliya had many nightmares, but now that she feels safer, they are gone.

Contrarily to the village, Kherson had electricity from time to time so that school lessons could be held online, but since Nataliya spend most of the time with her grandparents, she did not go to school much. The lessons are still held remotely today, and Nataliya misses going to school. She misses her friends and the teacher’s lessons which are easier to understand in person than virtually.

When she grows up, Nataliya wants to become a dentist. For her it is important that the smile of a person is beautiful. People should laugh because that means that they are happy.

Ivan

Ivan is fifteen years old. His soft, gentle and light voice contrasts with his strong build. A tall, black-haired, wide shouldered teenager, with deep dark eyes. A young man rather than a teenager talking about his experience of the war.

When the Russians started invading Ukraine in February 2022 and bombed Chornobaivka, a suburban village close to Kherson, Ivan was at home playing games on his phone. The first thought that came to his mind was that he could die that day, and ever since, that thought has never left him. The rationale was simple: if they can bombard Chornobaivka, then why not his hometown, Novokyivka?

Then the Russians came to Novokyivka. They searched private houses for weapons, grenades and military personnel. They moved into abandoned buildings, installed artillery machinery in the fields and checkpoints on the roads to better control the locals. The Russians sometimes paid and sometimes didn’t for their groceries in the local shop. When they came to Ivan’s house to ask for food and water, they were friendly and nice, and got what they had asked for. 

According to Ivan, the first wave of soldiers from the Luhansk and Donetsk area were well-behaved, but the subsequent wave of soldiers from Chechnya were not. Ivan was once riding a motorcycle with his friend and found Chechen soldiers out of the blue, seated on a tank, firing in the air and telling Ivan and his friend to stop and step aside. Scared, Ivan stopped: it is better to let the Chechens drive away than to provoke their trigger-happiness. 

Ivan tried to live a normal life but during the occupation, there was not much to do. He helped his mother plant and harvest potatoes in the garden, and played video games.

The scariest moment for Ivan was when the Russians bombed his hometown. The grenade exploded far enough for Ivan to not get hit directly, but close enough for him to feel the shockwave of the explosion. Windows shattered, walls cracked. Ivan was in the house, again playing games on his phone, and even though scared, he tried to ignore the explosion and continued to play. It was only when Ivan saw Russian soldiers aiming directly at his house that he quickly hid in the basement.

To Ivan, the Russians’ ideology is as crazy as the Chechen’s trigger-happiness. They told Ivan that the war was the Ukrainians’ fault, that Russia did not want this war and that Ukraine had initiated it. For Ivan this was all lies; the soldiers seemed brainwashed by the narratives of their government. Ivan had the same experience playing video games online. He was told repeatedly by Russians that Ukrainians are bad people and Russians, well, good.

Ivan’s biggest dream is for the war to end. He cannot think of anything else. His dream job: no idea.

Alina

Alina is sixteen years old and full of energy. Red hair, long blue fingernails, always laughing and bustling about. But when she starts talking about the war and the Russian occupation of her hometown, her voice turns calm and serious. Alina knows the difference between seriousness and play.

When the invasion happened, she was home in the small village of Myrne. At five o’clock in the morning she woke up to the sounds of her door breaking. But Alina was mistaken. It was not the door, but explosions making the sounds. Then a friend called her and told her that their houses are shaking from the shockwaves. A couple of minutes later, the window of Alina’s room shatters.

The explosions scared Alina, no doubt about it, but the real fear came when Russian soldiers invaded her hometown with tanks, SUVs, artillery and heavy machine guns. When she saw all those weapons, she thought she was going to die.

Alina has many stories to tell. One of the first memories that comes to her mind is that while watching TV, she and her grandfather suddenly heard a loud sound followed by a glimmering light in the living room. They immediately lay down on the floor and started praying. After a while her grandfather went outside to check the situation and saw about twenty Russian tanks. Shortly after Alina joined her grandfather outside, she saw a firework of lights illuminating the dark sky. Again, in that moment Alina thought that she’d die. 

Another day, Alina was at her sister’s place. A heavy fight between Russian and Ukrainian forces started, but since Alina’s sister had no basement in her house, they had to cross the whole village to find shelter whilst the bombing and explosions continued. They hid the whole night and the whole day. Alina cried, shivered and prayed.

During all that time she lived at her grandfather’s place. Her mother, scared and worried, lives in Poland because of work. After three months of occupation and active artillery fire, Alina fled with her aunt and sister to join her mother in Poland. 

The road to Poland was never-ending. At many checkpoints they were detained for up to nine hours. After two days on the road, they were still in occupied territory and slept at a kindergarten. Artillery battles with heavy explosions could be heard all night. The next morning, only one hour after they had left, a friend, who had slept next to the kindergarten, called Alina to tell her that it had been hit and destroyed. Even though they were moving away from the warzone, Alina couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the war was following her. Every city or town Alina stopped at on her way to Poland got bombed the moment she left.

As much as Alina was happy to see her mother, she had to leave her grandfather, who didn’t want to leave his house and his deceased wife buried in Myrne, even if that meant living under occupation. After one year in Poland Alina returned to Myrne. Poland simply wasn’t her home and she wanted to be with her grandfather.

Alina’s biggest dream is the liberation of all of Ukraine from Russian occupation. Her dream job is to be a volunteer, because throughout her journey to Poland so many volunteers helped her and her family. It is important for Alina to help others. She is aware of the fact that volunteers are not paid for their work, but that doesn’t matter to her. 

Maria

Maria is fourteen and, like Alina, from the village Myrne. She has dark blonde hair and a soft voice that is as innocent as her gaze. When the war broke out, Maria was getting ready to go to school, but then a friend called and warned her to stay home. From a distance Maria heard the bombings in Kherson and saw the dark sky light up. Sometimes rockets landed closer; the windows shook and Maria lay on the floor. Though she feared for her life, Maria tried to stay strong. She told herself that everybody is scared and that she must be patient and deal with the situation.

Maria never lost faith that the Ukrainian army would liberate her and her family and friends. She accepts the fact that some villagers supported the Russian invasion, because everybody must do what they think is necessary to survive. These neighbours told Maria that the war was the Ukrainians’ fault and that Russian soldiers were coming to liberate them.

When the Russians came to the village, Maria was even more afraid. The soldiers were drinking heavily and flirting with the teenage girls, Maria included. An older soldier approached her and started chatting her up. His comrades told him that she was too young, and that he should leave her alone. The older soldier replied that he would come back for her in one or two years then. What scared Maria the most in that moment was that she knew another teenage girl who was violated by Russian soldiers and was never seen again. She ended up in the hospital with physical and psychological trauma. Maria did not leave her home again after that. 

Looking back, the scariest moment for Maria was the first day of occupation and the shock when she saw the Russian army coming to the village. Even the dog was afraid. Going to bed every night and not knowing if you’ll wake up alive the next day is scary. Conversely, the best moment for Maria was when the Russians left, because she was finally able to step out of the house again.

Maria’s biggest dream is for the war to end, and her dream job is to become a police officer. Even though it’s a dangerous profession, it helps people. Due to the war Maria realised that a lot of people have problems, and the police force can deal with them. Maria never lost hope that the war would end, and it was mostly the speeches and addresses of President Zelensky that gave her that hope.

Kyrylo

Kyrylo is fourteen years old. Like Ivan, he has black hair and a strong build. But his voice is deeper, more serious and more determined. And yet there is something melancholic about his behaviour, something inside of him that seems to bother him that he can’t quite put into words.

The day of the invasion Kyrylo was in Kherson. He heard sounds of bombs, detonations and saw an almost infinite number of Russian military vehicles. He hid with his family in a room with no windows, sealed off from the outside. Kyrylo was afraid and shaking as he realised that a rocket could hit his house and he could die. This thought that he experienced for the first time in his life was the worst experience that Kyrylo had during all the war.

During the occupation Kyrylo never really left the house. Ten metres was the farthest he went. After two months of occupation, Kyrylo, his sister, his mother, his stepfather and another family left Kherson for the city of Stryi in Lviv Oblast in Western Ukraine. They took the last road out of Kherson. At a Russian checkpoint, the travelers had to get out of their cars and the older men of the group had to strip naked and were checked for nationalist tattoos on their bodies. Kyrylo remembers the Russian soldiers aiming their rifles directly at them and all he could think about was the fear of losing one of his family members and what would happen if the men got shot. Then there would be no one left to drive the car. Apart from this, leaving Kherson was Kyrylo’s best experience during the war.

Today, Kyrylo’s stepfather fights in the war as a soldier. He respects and supports his stepfather’s choice, but at the same time he is afraid of losing him. In Kyrylo’s eyes his stepfather is a hero, not only because he is out there fighting, but also because he joined the army voluntarily. His stepfather didn’t wait to get drafted.

Initially Stryi was a difficult time for Kyrylo. He had no friends and did not know anybody. After some time he made friends he could talk to about problems and secrets, real friends who listened. 

But after a year in Stryi, Kyrylo had to say farewell to his new found friends. He moved back to the Kherson region to the village of Myrne, where his grandparents live. He misses his friends from Stryi and believes that it will be more difficult to find friends in Myrne.

Kyrylo’s dream is to become a football player, a famous goalkeeper to be precisely, just like the former Soviet player Lev Yashin. When he’s eighteen he wants to attend the football academy. He has no other dream or wish for his life.

Kyrylo is convinced that Ukraine will win the war. His eyes and his mind are determined. There is no other possible outcome.

Andriy

Andriy is nine years old. He has short blonde hair, blue-grey eyes and a sly, yet sweet, smile. He is rather short for his age, but well-trained and acrobatic. Andriy is the youngest of eight children. He has seven biological siblings and two adoptive sisters. He never met his biological father and his mother is an alcoholic who is unable to take care of the children. Andriy and five of his siblings were adopted by Mykola. His two youngest siblings, still infants, were adopted by someone else.

Andriy lives with his siblings and adoptive parents in an apartment complex attached to the Christian Church in Kherson, but the courtyard behind the church is his real home. Humanitarian helpers, journalists, pastors, displaced persons, victims in need of shelter or food, there’s always something going on in the backyard and Andriy and his brothers don’t miss a thing. They talk to everybody, eyeball newcomers, greet acquaintances, help carry boxes, play together, snitch on each other, fight, cry and laugh. All year long, no matter if it’s snowy, rainy or sunny. It doesn’t even matter if they are occupied by a foreign army or live under permanent bombing. The one thing Andriy and his brothers don’t do is sit still. 

Andriy’s life is marked by crises. Four years of orphanage, two years of the Covid pandemic, and more than a year of war including eight months of occupation and constant fighting. Now, that the Russian occupiers retreated, the Ukrainian and Russian artilleries are engaged in what is called ‘counter-battery fire’ in technical terms, or ‘artillery duel’ as the locals call it. The Ukrainian artillery is situated somewhere in the fields and woods outside of Kherson, the Russian artillery hides on the other side of the Dnieper and Kherson is situated right in the middle between the two artilleries firing at each other. The sound of constant shelling is something to get used to, a distinctive sound that, once experienced, cannot be confused with fireworks, thunder or any other loud explosion. A surreal scene that is a mixture of continuous howling in the sky, birds tweeting in the background and Andriy and his brothers running around wildly on the playground, while two volunteers use the sand from the children’s playground to fill up sandbags to cover up windows and doors for protection against rockets and Kamikaze drones.

For Andriy and his brothers all this does not seem surreal. It is simply the way it is. “They were never really afraid of the bombs and the Russian occupiers,” their father says. “I think it’s because they have gone through so much trouble in their life. Life simply hardened them.” Andriy never wants to leave Kherson. It’s his home, war or not.

***

Not far from Myrne, from Maria’s, Kyrylo’s and Alina’s homes, lies the neighbouring village Myroliubivka. A month after the occupation started, a bomb hit a small house killing a nine-year-old girl and her grandfather, who was in a wheelchair. The youngest and the oldest generation of a family eradicated in a single blow in the midst of a ruthless war. After the tragic incident, the family moved away. Windows shattered, walls demolished, the roof gone: the house has never been rebuilt. All that is left are ruins and the child’s grave with an orthodox cross, portraits of saints and some withered flowers. The tomb seems to be the only resistance to decay and loss. “This is a reminder that the children of these villages have seen war”, says Taras, a local pastor, whose home is still under Russian occupation, east of the Dnieper, and who lives in Kherson now.

Literally translated, Myro-Liubivka means peace-love. The name couldn’t be more symbolic. The children from the steppe of Kherson and Mykolaiv certainly have experienced war, as Taras mentioned; but, have or will they also experience love? And peace?

---

Olivier Del Fabbro ist ein luxemburgischer Philosoph und lehrt als Oberassistent an der ETH Zürich. Er forscht unter anderem zur Philosophie des Krieges und reiste für forum in die Ukraine.