There was everything: the fear of death and hunger. I couldn’t catch my breath after another bombing. We left everything, but we survived.
For 14 nights in the unheated basement where the temperature was 5 ° a TV-Presenter and journalist Julia Pankova and her family were living in total occupation near Gostomel.
We publish the whole story as it is.
“On the second day, the connection was lost, on the third – the light. Without light, without gas, without heating, medicines, and gasoline. We were cut off from the whole world.
We couldn’t leave. They didn’t let us out. A family was shot in a nearby village. The friend was killed when he was conducting food to civilians.
My friends’ mom died these days. She was taken out and put on a bench in a bag in Gostomel. She hasn’t been buried yet…
A thick fragment of hail flew into our courtyard. We were cleaning aviation tags on our lawn. They flew over us every single day.
Their military facilities were in the forest, where I walked with the dog “before”. Every evening I quickly ran and stood paralyzed near the window to catch any telephone connection. And with all the surprise the window frames were pushing me back from these horrific explosive waves.
I learned to distinguish sounds – explosions of vacuum bombs, hail and hurricanes, flights of fighter jets, military aircraft, and alligators. When it was “quiet”, we were preparing mentally for new bombings.
On March 9, they barged into our house. 13 trained, fully equipped Kadyrovites. With manpads/needles on their shoulders and worn machine guns. In St. George ribbons, on the backs with the inscription ” Military intelligence “. They tore out the gates, broke into the house, searching rapidly in every room like a special force. This hell lasted no more than 30 minutes, but it seemed to be endless. They took telephones, hunting weapons. They threatened my father. That was the last straw. We decided to venture out. It was impossible to stay any longer.
The scariest thing was to decide to evacuate because there was no green official corridor to us. And there were a lot of video confirmations about the shootings of civilians. I knew that this day could be my last. I accepted it and reconciled.
We left. With white flags that we sewed from sheets and mops. In a column of 4 cars. With children and a baby who had run out of formula and was exhausted. We miraculously passed 3 enemy checkpoints. From the amount of equipment and military numb hands.
I saw everything… charred, frozen bodies, shot civilian cars, broken equipment. We stopped every time at the curb when columns of enemy vehicles were rushing at a crazy speed. We made our way under the hail… and prayed.
We really have learned to pray. I can’t listen to music anymore. Loud noises annoy me. And in silence, I feel an unthinkable tension. I’m constantly waiting for someone’s attack. There was everything: the fear of death and hunger. Legs were taken away. I couldn’t catch my breath after another bombing.
We left everything, but we survived.”