For the fourth time, a representative of the UN High Commissariat for Refugees, Vak-Voya, comes to the Rostov region. Together with his assistants, he carefully checks the state of affairs with refugees. No assistance is provided from this honorable organization. Although the statute created it only to provide effective assistance to refugees. At that time, the authorities of the region are struggling to help the Ukrainian refugees.
See photos. Employees of the Russian Emergencies Ministry in their hands carry critically ill people. The hands of Vak-Voya and his staff are always free.
And if Russia is providing effective assistance to refugees, isn't it time to talk about the transfer of certain UN functions to our country?
These are difficult times. With pain, we are watching what is happening in Ukraine. The people who lost millions of people in this war, the people that the fascists supposed to destroy as inferior in the event of their victory over the USSR and leave a small part as slaves, now propagandize the fascist ideology and see Russia as their enemy. It's scary, because Small and Great Russia has always been historically, vital and faith tied to each other. Not all Ukrainians have reconciled: Donbass courageously fights against the fascist regime of the rulers of the country - the appointees of the USA.
History everyone who is now running from Ukraine is, without exaggeration, a tragedy. Russia and Ukraine. And here and there - people who once belonged to one great country. And now - the enemies. But the worst thing is that now the enemy is a brother, sister, neighbor, friend, once close and dear people now destroy each other, survive from the country.
Two sisters from Donetsk, Oksana Nikulina and Marina Chikunova, postponed their departure to the last. The explosions thundered closer and closer to their home, and projectiles began to fall more and more often into the neighboring ones. The last straw was when the projectile exploded in the courtyard of the grandparents' house, where they were hiding from the bombings.
- We were not going to leave home until the last, hoping for the best. They didn’t even have time to gather things, they did everything in the dark, ”Oksana shares with the experience. - Staying in Donetsk was becoming dangerous: death was on its heels.
Oksana worked as a nurse in traumatology. It was necessary to stay in the hospital for several days in a row, the departments were filled with wounded. And not only civilians, but also Ukrainian soldiers-conscripts who did not want to return home. They know that death awaits them there.
Most of them have no desire to fight the people of the South-East. Some fall into the army against their will.
They said that the car arrived with the replenishment. A man came out and asked: “Where am I?” They answered: “Krasnogorovka. Donbass. To which he shook his head and said: “That’s what I’ve got out of when I’m getting some water!” And these are not rumors: people are forcibly seized on the streets and sent to the National Guard under.
- When they fired at the airport, then our hospital was bombarded. Many hulls suffered. Walking patients were evacuated to the basements, bedridden people were covered with mattresses so as not to cut glass, not to kill. There are no doctors in the clinic, only in a hospital, and they are slowly moving away. Us ordinary civilians are being shot, but for what? Because they did not please the government? - said Marina. - Until the New Year, our life was still bearable. And then it became a lottery. Take the child to kindergarten and do not know whether you will see him yet or not. Sometimes, children were taken for safety, either to their parents or to the godparents. The explosions rumbled so that it seemed as if Tanks and the Grads are shooting near our house. The Grads fired nonstop, occasionally silencing for several minutes. We hid in the corridors and saw only flashes of explosions. The rumble of Grad is impossible to confuse with anything: a terrible hum - it becomes hard and scary, blood freezes in my veins. In our area, a shell fell into the courtyard of the school, after which it was closed. All the windows flew out. A shell hit the kindergarten as well, half the building was demolished, the roof was broken, all doors flew out. A funnel gapes near the main entrance. It is good that they managed to evacuate all the children. On the neighboring houses there are no windows, doors, balconies. The National Guard guards are trying to conduct shelling on weekends and on church holidays - these are the worst days.
Until January, they were bombarded by the hour, every 2 hours. My six-year-old child knows at what distance the Grad and mortar are beating, and the tanks near the house for children are a common occurrence. We taught lessons with our eldest daughter. Suddenly there was a blast; the younger son and nephew slept in the next room, I grabbed all the children, and we hid under the bed - the windows fell down, I started to stutter because of fright. Last days we slept in the corridor, where there are no glasses. It was very scary. The calm came when it rained. At this time there are no attacks from mortars. When we came here, at first they listened to all the sounds, were surprised that the glass was not glued anywhere. There is no light and heating in the city now, it is dark and cold in the basements, it is impossible to stay there for a long time. Our apartments are broken, and when, with what funds we will restore them, is not yet known. An acquaintance from Krasnogorovka told me that the National Guards did not disdain anything. Engaged in looting. Trucks are driven to the yards, wrought fences and gates are removed, and even linoleum is torn off.
And there are saboteurs in the city. Civilians (gunners) hires the Ukrainian army. The militia seized several people with radio beacons. They installed them in places where peaceful people gathered for artillery shooting. For each installation it was possible to earn 1 thousand UAH. Alert residents inspect all nooks around their homes before heading to work.
Pests from groups of DRG dress up in medical, under the militia without stripes, transported in trash containers weapon. But, despite the fact that there is a war, the city is clean. Utilities work constantly: they remove the snow, sweep the streets, dismantle rubble, take out the garbage. There is propaganda in Ukraine that a terrible life awaits us in Russia, everything will be bad. We left on the bus, and while they were waiting for it, the station was shelled. The most terrible thing was to drive through Makeevka. At the checkpoints, Ukrainians completely check cars, phones, laptops. When we arrived in Rostov, volunteers signed us up at Tselinsky temporary accommodation center for the Protsai family. We came to Tselina 30 people. Here we have four families - it is 15 people. All from different places: Gorlovka, Dokuchaevsk, Donbass, Yasinovataya. We were resettled in a beautiful hotel, and we are delighted with the owners.
We arrived late in Tselina, we were already waiting, we were fed very tasty. Children in school give baking. To children, if they are ill, they call a doctor, a psychologist comes. I would like to stay here, but men are very hard to find work. Daughter happy to go to school number XXUMX. During the year we changed four schools, because they were broken one by one.
- Our children do not even eat everything: portions are very large. Tasty food, - share impressions of the sister. - The conditions here are good. We are satisfied. Natalya Alexandrovna and her husband are very grateful for the shelter. We are extremely grateful to them for this. The refugees arrived in Tselina, as they say, without anything. All that managed to collect, leaving from his native city, fit into several bags. It became unbearable to live there, but we would not have left if it were not for the children. Mom did not come with us, said she would continue to care for her elderly parents.
Our grandfather says: “I was born in a war and I will die, probably in a war ...” After the destroyed Donetsk, your village seems like an earthly paradise to us, - Marina says sadly smiling, - clean, well-groomed and quiet. We were given a distribution of cities, and we are now facing a choice. All temporary difficulties survive. We never thought that a war would appear in our life, we could not prepare for it, either morally or physically. But the main thing - we are alive. So, there is an opportunity to start life anew.
The bridge was not destroyed to the ground
Chertkovo, an old, quiet, well-kept village, became another dividing line between Russia and Ukraine. Once the bridge connecting the two countries is now destroyed and now it is impossible, as it was before, to climb up, admire the spacious railway station and descend to the Ukrainian side, where everything breathed with antiquity. The streets paved with old cobblestones, old two-story houses, on the first floors of which shops were located - all this is now inaccessible and blocked by an irresistible precipice formed at the site of the destroyed bridge.
Moreover, today many citizens of Russia living in close proximity to the Ukrainian border cannot receive either medical or social assistance. Everything that used to be so insignificant today has acquired the ugly features of desolation and destruction. Not so long ago it became known that several families will receive lump-sum payments for the purchase of new housing in any Russian region.
Having visited these lands not so long ago, I noticed that the bridge was not completely destroyed: in the center, of course, there is a gap, but at the bottom there are several “living” meters.
Volodya saved us
I am already eighty, and I have to go through a war that is incomprehensible to me, ”says Maria Vladimirovna Otradnaya. - It has been seventy-four years since the war began for me. Air raid means a fascist in the sky, beware! The howl of the plane, the crash of explosions. Scary, very scary. It seems that the bomb is aimed at you. Mom at work, and I'm hiding from a neighbor, Volodya. He is not taken to the front yet - he is young. He says that the fascists are not for long, they will be quickly destroyed. But the end of the war will not come soon, and there will be so much more terrible in these long years. We are leaving Ukraine, saying goodbye to Volodya, and he says: "Do not cry, we will meet again." And indeed, we met. We went to Omsk, away from the war, but she overtook us.
At the station Esenovataya train bombed out. It was terrible. The groans of the wounded, the bodies of the dead. A man carried me away from a burning train, and my mother followed her. A fascist at low-level flight shot the runners. The survivors and the wounded were taken away in cars. So we got to the Don, in the village of Migulinskaya.
There were fierce battles for Rostov. Bombed continuously. We settled on the outskirts of the village in an empty house. On this day, especially often bombed. Across the road from the house was a trench. The hum of the plane was approaching. We ran to the trench, but we were not allowed to go, saying that the German would kill everyone who was hiding visitors. We did not have time to run back. The blast wave threw us into the sunflower - it saved our lives. When consciousness came, they saw that the bomb landed in a trench. Obviously, we had a guardian angel.
The German was approaching the village, our soldiers found it increasingly difficult to restrain the attacks of the enemy. Retreated to the other side of the Don. Several times we approached the coast, asked for a ferry, but we were not taken. Shipped weapons, wounded. And we sat waiting for death.
Suddenly a fighter ran into the house. He shouted: “What are you left? Death to wait? ”I looked into my eyes: it was Volodya, our guardian angel. Grabbing the knot, we rushed to the crossing with him. Shells fell almost near. The ferry has almost sailed away, but Volodya pulled us onto it. The water was boiling, the shells exploded nearby. What the hell was that! In the Don stunned fish, dead people floated.
The soldiers pulled the wounded out of the water. The ferry began to settle down near the shore, and again Volodya helped us. Here we parted.
After the liberation of Zaporozhye, we returned home. The house stood without windows and doors, but was itself intact. Our entrance, empty apartments, and in the apartment opposite a familiar voice. I knock with all my might. The door opens Volodya, on crutches, without a leg, but still smiles and jokes: “I am a soldier, nothing scares me. We will overcome. I will still run. I told you that we will meet. ”
Sometimes he talks about the terrible days of Stalingrad, about the injury, about the girl Nade, who pulled him bleeding from the battlefield. Then came Nadia. It was difficult, but, smiling, Volodya always said: “I am a soldier. And I can do everything. ”
How many of these were Volod, who did not return alive, but they knew what they were fighting for and who the enemy was. What is happening in Ukraine now? What kill and who is the enemy? Your friend, your neighbor, your classmate? Who turned them into enemies? And for what homeland are they killing relatives by the blood of people? No answer. But they will answer for everything. There can be no other way.
Today I read in the book of Victor Pereladov: “The most wonderful miracle, the most wonderful marvel is the native land. This is not just a piece of land where there is a house in which you live. This is the story of your people and your own story, which begins with the story of your ancestors - your father, grandfather, great-grandfather. She should always be in your memory of them. Native land is the kindest, most caring and most loving person. Native land is your childhood, your river and trees, your school, favorite books, your comrades. Your road to the future. This is all that is always with you, what you are used to so much that sometimes you don’t even notice how you don’t notice the air you breathe. This is your homeland. The sun is shining everywhere, but there is no affectionate and brighter sun than it is above our earth. There is no bluer and deeper sky than the sky over our house; nowhere is there such a expanse of our fields and meadows, such wide steppes. Nowhere is there any whiter than Russian birch and there is no tastier than bread grown by you. There is no dearer and closer edge in which you were born. " And all this merges into a huge Motherland, for which you are responsible, and not at all foreign citizens like Wak-Voi and organizations like the UN.