‘We Are Coming From Hell’: A Ukrainian City’s Evacuees Tell Survival Stories

After a month of relentless artillery fire, a convoy of buses and trucks finally pulled into the outskirts of Oleshky, the small town that had been caught in the crossfire between Russian-backed forces and the Ukrainian army. For those who had stayed, the journey to safety had felt like a continuous nightmare, a story that unfolded in the cramped, dimly lit interiors of a makeshift shelter, where the sound of distant shells punctuated the silence. When the vehicles pulled into the parking lot of a nearby school, the first sight of familiar faces – the parents of children who had been absent for weeks, the elderly who had lost the ability to walk without pain – was a relief that seemed too good to be true.The 24‑hour trek had started in the early hours of the morning when the convoy commander, a former school teacher named Mykola, called for volunteers to move the heavier equipment and the most vulnerable..

“We have to keep moving, keep going,” he shouted over the roar of engines and the crackling of radios. The route, through the dense forests of Kherson Oblast, had been marked by sudden bursts of gunfire and the ever-present threat of minefields. Many of the evacuees, including a family of four, had to abandon their livestock and even their few possessions to avoid being caught in the crossfire.The night after the convoy reached the safety of the school, the evacuees gathered around a small fire to share what had happened in Oleshky over the past year..

The air was thick with the smell of burnt plastic and the metallic tang of gunpowder. The town, once a bustling market hub, had been reduced to a ghost of its former self; streets littered with debris, shops boarded up, and the once vibrant market square now a scarred patchwork of craters and crumbling brick. One of the evacuees, a middle‑aged woman named Olena, recounted how her house had been hit by a missile, leaving a hole that could be mistaken for an art installation..

She said the night she had been forced to flee, the sky was lit with an orange glow that made the whole town look like a scene from a war film.While the physical destruction was undeniable, the emotional toll on the people of Oleshky was even more profound. Several families shared stories of how they had to hide in basements for hours at a time, listening to the distant booms and feeling the tremors of their own bodies. In the months since the conflict began, the community had adapted to a life of uncertainty, learning to trust only their instincts and each other..

“We have no time for the usual rules,” said a young man who had fled with his brother, a former university student. “We are living with a ticking bomb.”The convoy’s arrival was a small victory for a community that had long struggled to maintain a sense of normalcy. The school’s makeshift infirmary had been set up within hours, providing first aid and psychological support to those who needed it..

Nurses, many of whom were locals, were on a relentless shift, treating shrapnel wounds, treating dehydration, and offering a semblance of hope to the wounded. For the children, a sense of relief was palpable as they ran into the schoolyard, laughing as their parents caught their breath. A nine‑year‑old, who had spent the last week hiding in a cellar, had tears in his eyes, but a bright grin as he was reunited with his mother.Yet, for many of the evacuees, the relief was short‑lived, a brief respite in an otherwise bleak existence..

The same day the convoy stopped, the Ukrainian army announced a renewed offensive in the region. The announcement, made on a local radio station, sounded ominous to the evacuees, who had already spent months in a war zone. “We do not know what the future holds,” said Mykola, who had taken the lead in coordinating the evacuation..

“We have only one day to get them to safety.”The sense of urgency was palpable as the evacuees gathered around the buses, many of them exhausted from their ordeal. The weight of the decision to move again, to leave their new refuge, was a heavy burden. But the people of Oleshky had endured enough..

The sense of community, the bond between them, had been forged in the crucible of war. “We will survive,” said Olena, her voice shaking. “We have survived before..

We will survive again.”The convoy’s departure was bittersweet, the smell of the camp air lingering in the lungs of those who remained. The school that had become a temporary safe haven would soon be empty, its halls echoing with the memories of the people who had lived there for weeks. The evacuees had a sense of gratitude for the care they had received, but also a sense of disappointment that the safety they had found was temporary..

They knew that the war was far from over, that the threat of shelling and fighting was still looming, and that their stories of survival were just one of many in a war that had left an indelible mark on the Ukrainian people.In the months to come, the people of Oleshky will have to rebuild and decide what to do with the remnants of their lives. Whether they return to their homes, move to a different town, or remain in the safe haven, they will carry with them the trauma and resilience that had defined their journey. The story of their evacuation, from the chaos of the combat zone to the temporary relief of the school, is a reminder of the human capacity for survival in the face of unimaginable adversity..