People think they know what war is. Here’s what I learned in seven years on Ukraine’s frontline
Movies and news reels show us the tanks, soldiers, explosions and tears. But beyond that is an integration of horror and the mundane, as those who have chosen to stay cling to as much normality as they can
“I often have the same dream: that I’m trying to get home,” says Elena Lebedeva, setting out tea and sandwiches in the tiny kitchen of her rented flat. “There’s always some checkpoint, obstacle, something in the way. I keep going – walking, running, crawling – but I never manage to reach it.”
Home for Lebedeva is Opytne, a tiny village – one school, no supermarkets – just outside Donetsk.
Sitting at the table of the flat that her family fled to, she reels through the fates she knows of the roughly 30 people who remained in Opytne as Russian troops advanced. Lebedeva’s neighbour, known as Uncle Sasha, died in his basement, where he’d been living since his house was destroyed. Perhaps he fell from the ladder or suffered a heart attack. By the time his body was found, rats had eaten his hands.
