Nikolai, 52, was just up the hill in the Ukrainian frontline village still holding his neighbor’s body, which he used to shield himself from the worst of the blast. Crouching under a corpse, he could only watch helplessly in horror as his wife and child Anastasia, 15, were crushed by the Russian attack in their garden. Their village in Donetsk is literally on the front lines of the brutal war that began with Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine in February. Located just meters into Ukrainian territory held by detachments, it may soon be overwhelmed by Russian troops, who have advanced on Donetsk after seizing the entire neighboring Luhansk region. And so it is a hellish ground zero, where the villagers cower in their basements as the tug of war rages above them. “I was screaming Anastasia’s name, I was screaming Anastasia’s dead,” says Olena, 51, tearfully from her hospital bed in Kramatorsk, a city under attack about 18 miles south of the village. Doctors who treated her say she suffered serious injuries to her head, arms and legs in the bombing, which took place the day before the interview. Civilians, most of them elderly, have been waiting days for aid donations as food prices have soared (Bel Tru) “My daughter’s head was split open. you could see her brain. He’s my only child,” Olena adds before breaking off. She is comforted by another neighbor, Olga, who oversaw Anastasia’s burial in the early morning, only to be wounded herself by shelling a few hours later while trying to pick raspberries. Olga was taken to the Kramatorsk hospital, still suffering from a serious head injury. “Every day a house is hit in our village by everything, even white phosphorus,” he tells the Independent shakily. “It’s very dangerous to bury people properly. Now we just wrap the bodies in a blanket and place them in holes in our gardens.” Caught in the middle and fearing repercussions on either side, the three ask that their identities and the location of their village be kept secret. They are reluctant to take responsibility for the violence, claiming they were attacked from both sides. “We just want peace… we want an end to this war,” Nikolai adds desperately. This is unlikely. This eastern part of Ukraine is now the deadly focus of President Putin’s assault on the country. On Monday he declared victory in Luhansk, the region next to Donetsk, just a day after Ukrainian forces, who were heavily outgunned, said they had been forced to withdraw from Lysychansk, the last remaining resistance stronghold in the region. Pedestrians walk past the tail section of a missile embedded in the ground in Kramatorsk on Monday, the day after a Russian rocket attack (AFP via Getty) The governor of now-occupied Luhansk and local authorities in Kramatorsk agree that capturing all of Donetsk is Moscow’s next goal. Cities such as Kramatorsk and nearby Slovyansk – where civilian evacuations are being hastily organized – are now in the line of heavy fire. There were reports on Tuesday that Russian positions were just a few kilometers from Sloviansk. “The enemy has already started to ‘work’ with artillery and aviation in the Donetsk region. They will probably continue to use the ‘scorched earth’ strategy, meaning first destroy and then attack,” Serhiy Gadai, governor of Luhansk, tells The Independent. “The Russians’ goal is, and always has been, to take all of Ukraine. They will only stop where the Ukrainian army will stop them,” he adds. Igor Eskov, a spokesman for the local administration in Kramatorsk, says his city is preparing for the worst, expecting Russia and its allied forces to make a “pinch move” against them, coming east from newly captured Lysychansk and north from the lands beyond Sloviansk. “After Mariupol, this is the largest city left in Donetsk. it is the most important politically and strategically in the region,” he tells the Independent outside the sandbagged local authority buildings. “Kramatorsk is the administrative center of Donetsk. They will push to gain as much ground as possible.” In recent days, Moscow’s artillery has turned its turrets on the two key towns located just a few miles south of Olena’s village. On Sunday, six people, including a nine-year-old girl, were killed and 19 injured in Russian strikes in Sloviansk. Kramatorsk also came under fire. On Monday, while it is quieter in the city center, the summer afternoon is pierced by constant shelling and gunfire. Vitali, a trauma doctor in Kramatorsk, says the hospital where he works is limited to using household drills on patients (Bel Tru) And so at the hospital where Olena is being treated in Kramatorsk, which receives wounded from all over the region, doctors say they are understaffed, underequipped and exhausted. They are also worried that this is only the beginning and that the front line will soon come to them. “I work 24-hour shifts. Sometimes I try to sleep, but often I can’t,” says Vitali, a trauma doctor, 46, who found himself sitting dazed on a couch during a rare break. “We did orthopedics before the war, now we work with the wounds of mine and the bombings. It’s a completely different job. Our lives are now cluster munitions.” He says he and his colleagues have to improvise with some equipment. For example, before the war they hired surgical electric drills for orthopedic surgery. Now they are forced to use household hand drills on patients’ broken bones to fix implants. Companies renting medical equipment have stopped operating in Ukraine since the fighting broke out. “We need new equipment and more staff. Cluster munitions and landmine injuries happen very often,” Vitali continues. “Just last week we treated a woman from Lysychansk, a grandmother who was tending to her goat when she stepped [a bomblet from a cluster munition]. Another man picked one up while collecting wood,” he adds. Vitali highlights the surgical exercises required to treat patients injured by cluster bombs and landmines (Bel Tru) Another problem that haunts the population of Kramatorsk and the surrounding villages is hunger. Prices have soared since the war began and wages and even some pensions have stopped. Against the sound of shelling and the wail of air raid sirens, residents of Kramatorsk line up for humanitarian aid. The vast majority are elderly. They say they have been waiting for days just to get a bag of food and supplies provided by local and international NGOs. A kilo of potatoes in the shops, they say, is equivalent to $1 (84p), while their pensions are less than $100 a month now. Olga, who is 85 and suffers from multiple health problems, has the number 707 written on her arm – her place in the queue – to remind her when it’s her turn. This is the third day she has been waiting outside the aid station, standing in the heat on her walking stick. She is afraid to leave Kramatorsk because of her health: she is not sure she could endure the journey. “The sound of shelling is terrifying. I just stand behind two walls in the hallway, as suggested by the authorities, and pray to God,” she says quietly. Marina, 76, who is unwell herself and cares for a niece who has diabetes and is incapacitated, says this is the fourth day of her queue. Her husband and son are dead, and so it is up to her to take care of herself and her niece. She can’t leave Kramatorsk because her niece can’t move. “I’ll be back at 4am tomorrow,” he says wistfully just before the center closes for the day. “All we can do now is live in the basement.” Tamara, 82, says she was born during World War II and will likely die during the current conflict (Bel Tru) Behind her is Tamara, 82, who says she doesn’t have enough money to leave and nowhere to go anyway. “I was born during war and I will die in a war. I never thought that this is how I would spend my retirement,” he adds. Inside the hub, exhausted volunteers say they are trying their best. A team of 10 is busy registering names and distributing food parcels arranged by a local organization, called Everything Will Be Alright in Ukraine, and the international food aid charity World Central Kitchen. “Every day we support about 500 to 600 people, but it’s never enough,” says Igor, 55, who coordinates the center. Before the war, he worked in a steel factory that was later bombed. “The main problem is the rise in prices and the fact that almost everyone has lost their job. Now I’m worried that the fighting will come here.” He says residents have been repeatedly asked to evacuate, but those who remain have nowhere to go and no means to support themselves. Fights break out between desperate citizens when they have to close the center for the afternoon. “We always need more supplies,” he adds with a despairing shrug. Bloody stretchers leaning against a wall at Kramatorsk Hospital (Bel Tru) The city around the hub, meanwhile, is eerily empty. The day before, the shelling was heavy in the center, but now, the noise of the shelling provides a constant backdrop. At the Kramatorsk hospital, Olena, Nikolai and Olga, stunned, like so many, say they have no plans for the future as they have nowhere to go and no support network. Nikolai tries to comfort his weeping wife Olena, promising to adopt children orphaned by the war so they can rebuild their family. He says the struggle is not about the citizens living it and that they just want to go home. “We are just citizens…
