Daily Mirror (Northern Ireland)
FLEEING FROM HELL
» Thousands on the long road to safety » Mirror man joins exodus from capital
I JOINED the mass exodus from Kyiv yesterday, part of a never-ending queue creeping ever so slowly towards safety.
Mile upon mile of traffic of all kinds clogged the road: mini-buses, trucks, new Mercedes cars, motorbikes and even tractors.
The one thing we had in common was that none of us was going anywhere fast.
It took myself and photographer Andy Stenning five hours and 38 minutes just to get out of the city. In the first four-and-a-half hours we covered just seven miles.
Yet despite the crushing sense of anxiety and with Russian forces somewhere behind us getting closer every moment, I only heard one angry car horn during the trek towards Poland.
Before we finally left at 8am I had twice been evacuated for fear of a missile attack and sought safety in a deep underground car park.
Then, as Russian tanks rolled in near our hotel, we were told to leave.
Former factory worker Vasiliy, 64, wound down his window during one stop. He was driving his light blue battered old Lada with one working brake light. He had driven to Kyiv to pick up his son, daughter-in-law and grandchild. On his roof rack was a pushchair and a suitcase. He said: “I come from Zhytomyr, in central Ukraine. I came to pick up my son, I came yesterday when I heard that Kyiv was shelled.
“I’m glad we were able to get out and leave.”
We passed thousands and thousands of people actually walking to safety, even though the Polish border is more than
300 miles away.
Carrying huge rucksacks, shopping bags and wheeling suitcases they walked along the hard shoulder.
On one of the country’s busiest motorways we passed a squadron of Ukrainian T-72s and T-64s tanks hidden in the verges.
To see them standing there – with their commanders sitting atop ready for action – so close to a service station was chilling.
Mini-buses, motorbikes and giant trucks were politely competing for space.
All the drivers wanted to do was to reach safety.
As cars edged past us they were all packed, many with four or five people squeezed into the back seat. Everyone was sombre. But despite their anxiety, there was a real spirit of camaraderie. We passed the same cars on the three
lane carriageway so often that we ended up on nodding terms.
Several people gave me a thumbsup and reassuring wave when they realised we were journalists.
One woman was making a cheese and tomato sandwich on her lap for her young son.
She spoke no English but opened her window and signalled to ask me if I’d like her to make me one as well.
Many cars had children and grandmothers, and several had pet cats and dogs crammed in with them.
A lady had her brown Pomeranian sitting in her lap in the front seat and was constantly stroking it to give the
dog reassurance. In another, a black and white spaniel sat quietly between two young children.
At the side of the road, the blue and yellow Ukrainian flag fluttered on a huge advertising screen. Nearby, a group of youngsters walked with their cases.
At times the line of people stretched as far as the eye could see.
Some stopped in lay-bys for a break and to play with their children. Just 10 miles out of Kyiv a group, including several women, stood at the roadside trying to hitch a lift away from the bloodshed.
Then within a mile there were dozens and dozens more.
I have never seen so many hitchhikers on a single stretch.
On the other side of the carriageway as we headed west several convoys of Ukrainian troops were racing into Kyiv ready for the fight ahead. Several of them were proudly parading the Ukrainian flag.
As they drove past they received huge cheers.
When we were still in Kyiv, there had been a massive military presence.
Along the side of the road armed camouflaged soldiers hid under netting, surrounded by green sandbags, waiting for any Russian troops.
Outside the Beresteiska metro station a squad of heavily armed soldiers stood guard.
One smoked a cigarette and yawned as he spoke to an elderly woman. In the city there were queues at every
cashpoint we passed. But they were nothing compared to the lines of cars at the petrol stations.
They were huge and some drivers were forced to resort to pushing their vehicles to the pumps to make use of every last bit of fuel.
And there were chaotic scenes at the main railway station, as people clamoured to get on the last trains out.
Mums, dads and children pushed to get on and most trains were crammed.
Very few wanted to stay, and those who did wanted to fight.
The rest fled wondering if they would ever be able to return to their homes, if they are even still standing.
The journey to Lviv, the largest city in western Ukraine, took 17 hours but it was a route for safety for many.
As night fell and the temperature dropped to well below freezing there were still many people walking toward Lviv, which is around 50 miles from the Polish border. There were many car breakdowns and minor crashes.
But people will not care about their cars as long as their children are safe.
People are walking, even though the border with Poland is 300 miles away MIRROR MAN ANDY LINES JOINS EXODUS FROM KYIV