USA TODAY International Edition
Ukraine’s soldiers wait, without firing back
Many fear Kiev is giving up on areas held by separatists
PISKY, UKRAINE Two dozen soldiers in camouflage uniforms share cramped corners with mice and rats in the torch- lit basement of a bombed- out church as artillery fire booms in the distance. Here, beside the ruins of Donetsk’s airport in eastern Ukraine, the sporadic rocket and mortar fire forces soldiers and civilians alike to descend underground when darkness falls.
Nighttime is the Russianbacked separatists’ favorite time to start firing, Ukrainian soldier Konstantin Bernovitch, 23, explained.
This reporter, who spent five days in Pisky with Ukraine’s 93rd Brigade this month, found that despite a renewed attempt at a cease- fire on Sept. 1, fighting has slowed significantly but hasn’t stopped. As separatist fire continues, Ukrainian soldiers have been ordered to fortify positions and hold their fire.
“Our positions were attacked last night for the first time after the signing of the new cease- fire,” Volodymyr Kuzyk, 28, said, a tired look on his face. “But we were told not to fire back, I don’t think there will be the order for us to advance.”
The partially destroyed church where Kuzyk stood has been turned into a fortified military position, with trenches all around. The Ukrainian flag flies atop the building.
“I cannot predict what will happen here, but there have been rumors that the Kiev government will give up the Donbass,” Kuzyk said, referring to the eastern re- gion held by the rebels. “And we can do nothing about it.”
After risking his life in the war, the soldier expressed both sadness and anger at the idea that the national government might give up separatist- held areas. “I just want my country to go back to how it was before,” he said.
Kuzyk said he expects fighting to increase as winter approaches and the nights get longer. Staying under shelter once the sun has set is a lifesaving ritual for him and fellow soldiers. The remains of deadly rockets lie strewn around the 93rd Brigade’s positions, and two men were recently killed by a mortar when they stepped outside at night to smoke. Now soldiers smoke indoors.
The soldiers fill the dark eve- nings with lighthearted jokes about the unit’s worst cook and relive stories about drunken nights in Kiev, the country’s bustling capital.
Conversations also stray to families back home and a longing to see sons and daughters again. Samehon, a strong homemade liquor, is produced on some nights, and glasses are raised in a silent toast to fallen friends.
The war has taken its toll on the unit’s young men, who were students, miners and milk- delivery drivers less than two years ago.
One night, a 26- year- old soldier, who was a teacher before the war, screamed out in the dark as he slept, reliving what he had seen in the war as others snored around him.
The soldiers are on constant alert, wearing their uniforms even while sleeping. When an alarm went off one night, they sprang up, grabbed aging Kalashnikovs rifles and screamed at each other to get ready. Within minutes, they scrambled into three Soviet- made tanks, ready for action.
“Nothing to worry about,” Bernovitch said 30 minutes later when it turned out they were roused by a false alarm.
On an early- morning patrol the next day around this bombed- out village and its outskirts, Bernovitch warned, “Follow my steps exactly. This area has mines.”
An array of unexploded ordnances dot the countryside: tripwires, land mines, artillery and mortars. They are a deadly new blight in eastern Ukraine as the fighting continues into its second year, claiming over 8,000 lives.
A neutral zone more than 1,000 yards wide has been created across the front line, and Ukrainian and separatist soldiers who routinely patrol this no- man’s land have had deadly clashes. Although the fighting has slowed, the dangers of war remain. Sniper fire is a constant threat, given some separatist positions are barely a half- mile away.
“We don’t want any cease- fire here,” said a 19- year- old machine gunner who only gave first name, Puls, to protect his safety. “All we want is victory and nothing else.”