National Post

Hoping for peace, bracing for war in Ukraine

‘Shelling drills’ in Mariupol amid talk of a ceasefire

- By Rick Lyman

MARIUPOL, UKRAINE • The morning routine begins promptly at 8:05 at Public School 68, with a round of calistheni­cs followed immediatel­y by the daily shelling drill.

A bell clangs on the loudspeake­r, and unsmiling children pour out of classrooms in perfect formation, knees bent, heads down, squatting along the thick corridor walls far from any windows, hands clamped over their ears.

“They don’t think it’s something funny,” said Elena Klemanchuk, whose fourth graders huddled in the gloomy hallway near a mural of a girl skipping rope. “They take it very seriously. You need only look around to understand why.”

With the battle for control of the crucial railroad town of Debaltseve nearing what seems to be its climax, the focus of the conflict in eastern Ukraine is shifting southward to Mariupol, an industrial port in government hands where the pro-Russian rebels are massing their forces.

While rebel rocket attacks on Tuesday killed at least seven civilians in Kramatorsk, about 48 kilometres north of the front lines, the leaders of France, Germany, Russia and Ukraine were scrambling to arrange a summit meeting in the Belarusian capital, Minsk, on Wednesday to try to halt the fighting and establish a demilitari­zed zone.

There were reports in Russian media that representa­tives of the four countries had reached a tentative ceasefire deal, setting the stage for the leaders to sign it on Wednesday, but no confirmati­on of any agreement.

In the months after a shaky ceasefire was declared in September, Public School 68 had 745 students.

Then on Jan. 24, a salvo of Grad rockets hit the school’s crowded neighbourh­ood on Mariupol’s east side, battering a market teeming with Saturday morning shoppers and leaving 31 people dead and dozens more wounded. Many frightened residents fled, leaving the school’s enrolment at 432.

“Before it happened, everybody told us we had three lines of defence and we were perfectly safe,” said Victor Perkov, the head of the school. “But then we were shown that we were not as well protected as we believed.”

Ukrainian military officials said on Tuesday that national guard units had begun an offensive against rebel positions near Mariupol. A spokesman for one volunteer unit, the Azov Battalion, claimed that it had captured the small towns of Shirokino and Pavlopol just outside the city.

The fighting continued around Debaltseve as well, with the rebels claiming that they had surrounded the city while the Ukrainian Army insisted that the battle was not

over. In a new wrinkle, artillery shells fell 50 miles to the north at Kramatorsk, which had not seen any fighting in months but where the government has a sizable military base.

Mariupol is a bustling port in a strategic location on the Sea of Azov, near the Russian border. The rebels control the territory to the north and east, and Russia controls the Crimean Peninsula to the southwest. Mariupol is the only major obstacle to their realizatio­n of a long-held goal of opening a land route between Russia and Crimea and taking complete control of the Sea of Azov, and its rich industrial infrastruc­ture. Russia, which denies playing any role in the conflict here, says it has no such intention.

Even so, Mariupol has been a target almost since the fighting began early last year. The rebels briefly took control of it in the spring, and it was the scene of fierce fighting in the late summer, when the rebels drove to within 10 miles of the city limits.

“In September, Mariupol was very weak and poorly defended,” said Andrey Dzyndzya, who was a prominent activist during the protests that toppled Ukraine’s previous pro-Russia government and

is now a fighter with the Azov Battalion. “There was a kind of panic in the city,” he recalled. “In September, we managed to stop them only by luck.”

But he and other local military and government leaders said the situation was different now, with a complete ring of defensive lines, rather than just positions on the main roads.

“I feel confident that we have enough troops and enough weaponry in place to successful­ly protect the city now,” Mr. Dzyndzya said.

North of the city, at the last checkpoint before the front lines, Grigory Logvinenko, the checkpoint’s commander, stood in deep mud and pointed out the rebel positions about four miles away. He ticked off a shopping list of material he hopes the United States will give to Ukraine — updated equipment, more accurate artillery, anti-tank weapons.

“And we would not mind a couple of drones,” he said.

At that moment, a woman drove up in a silver Subaru station wagon and waved to the troops. Natalya Radkevich said she came out to the checkpoint once a week. She began unloading containers of homemade borscht, vegetable salad, cookies and candies, sponges,

and wet wipes for the soldiers.

“They are our heroes,” she explained. “They are the best men in the world.”

At the Denis Market on the city’s east side, named for the owner’s son, the crowds were sparse. This was the market that was hit in January, and signs of the shelling are still evident in the battered roof, the piles of broken glass and the new bricks shoring up the hammered walls.

More than 70% of the shops in the marketplac­e remain closed, according to Vadim Yedvokimov, the owner. At least half the neighbourh­ood’s residents have fled.

Will the market come back? “Of course,” he said with a sad smile. “We are going to join Europe.”

Across the street, a crew of sign painters was refreshing the markers that point the way to the nearest bomb shelter.

Ms. Klemanchuk, the fourthgrad­e teacher, said she was at the school on the Saturday morning the market was hit, leading an orientatio­n group of preschoole­rs, all five years old.

“They were very scared,” she remembered. “Many of them were crying. I tried to calm them down. I said, ‘ No, it’s not real, it’s just a game.’ ”

She paused and took a deep breath, looking down the dark hallway at the children squatting on the floor with their ears covered.

“But they said, no, they did not believe me,” Ms. Klemanchuk continued. “They said it was not a game. They knew. You see, it was not their first shelling.”

 ?? Brendan Hofman / The New York Times ?? Students take part in a shelling drill, now a morning routine at Public School 68 in Mariupol, Ukraine.
Brendan Hofman / The New York Times Students take part in a shelling drill, now a morning routine at Public School 68 in Mariupol, Ukraine.
 ?? VOLODY MYR SHUVAYEV / AFP / Gett y Imag es ?? Civilians look at a missile embedded in the street after shelling in the eastern Ukrainian city of Kramatorsk on Tuesday. At
least six were killed and 21 were wounded in a rocket attack on Ukraine’s military headquarte­rs, local authoritie­s said.
VOLODY MYR SHUVAYEV / AFP / Gett y Imag es Civilians look at a missile embedded in the street after shelling in the eastern Ukrainian city of Kramatorsk on Tuesday. At least six were killed and 21 were wounded in a rocket attack on Ukraine’s military headquarte­rs, local authoritie­s said.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada