The cats were the first to fall behind, and the dogs held on longer. I look back and saw them crying. "Guys, I can't take you with me. I don't know where I'm going. And whether I will get there... I'm sorry."
Her town was wiped out by Russian aggressors. The only thing left of Mariinka are the foundations of houses and memories. Yuliia keeps these memories in her heart. They are her fragile talisman and amulet.
Those memories include her home, which she did not want to leave until the last moment. Although she has been well aware of what war is since 2014. Back then, Mariinka was in the war zone. Fortunately, the time of turmoil with the change of government did not last long - the Ukrainian military pushed the enemy away from the city. No one in Mariinka called for "Russian peace," there were no separatists there. Out of 10,000 people, no more than 50 voted for the DPR in the so-called referendum, Ms. Yuliia assures.
She is a chiropractor. Hereditary chiropractor - that's what she says about herself. She treats sore bones and joints, "fixes" backs. In Mariinka, she has recently lived alone in her own home: her daughter moved to Nova Kakhovka during the events of 2014, and her husband died four years ago. "When everything started in a second round in February 2022, people started to leave," she recalls, "I stayed because I have a household - chickens, a pig, cats, and dogs. These are living creatures, how can you leave them?"
As long as it was possible to heat the stove, she baked bread, cooked porridge and soups, and delivered them to the neighbors. Every morning I would run around to see if anyone was alive. Mostly older, frail people remained. Those who could were hiding in basements. Ms. Yuliia hid in the cellar at home during the shelling until a shell hit her house on March 8. Windows and doors were shattered. She says she took the front door by the handle and moved it to the side like a suitcase... Then she moved to her neighbors' house, where they hid from Russian bombs together in their cellar. There was more or less reliable shelter only in the city center - I helped evacuate the elderly there. The power went out and there was almost no communication.
"Many people did not leave until the last," Yuliia recalls. "Because it was a pity to leave home, it was scary to go to the unknown. And this is despite the terrible daily shelling. "I used to count for fun: 65 explosions per hour. These are the ones I heard, because they were somewhere nearby," she says. The Russians were throwing phosphorus bombs at our city every day. Do you know what they are? When such a bomb falls, a large house burns down in 20 minutes. A phosphorus bomb hit one family's yard and burned down their outdoor kitchen. And the next day their car was burned down, the one they were going to leave in."
Ms. Yuliia saw our soldiers walking past her yard every day. In one direction they carry food and ammunition, in the other - the wounded and killed... "Once I was struck to the core. A boy was walking, he was short and thin," the woman recalls, "and he was carrying two chunky men. He was carrying his brothers from the battlefield. Where does the man get so much strength from? And one day I saw guys walking in groups of 20. I asked, "Boys, are you leaving us?" One of them stopped and smiled, "No, we are not leaving you. Look: we have shot the last bullet. Don't worry, we'll be back in a moment." And indeed: in about 40 minutes, these guys are coming back, carrying boxes of shells. "Don't worry," they say, "we drove them back to the border. We have everything under control!". It was so good to hear that."
And then there were close battles... One day our soldier came running in, "Auntie, give me a blanket or a robe! "I tore the coverlet off the door, ran out, and there was a young boy, seriously wounded... How old was he?" 19 "That was the last drop," Yuliia recalls. "I spent the night at the neighbors' place, and then I said, 'Do as you like, I'm leaving'. At dawn, at 4 a.m., I went home, took my backpack, documents, and a few things. I said goodbye to my house. I let the pig out of the barn, the chickens, untied the dogs, and left. The cats and dogs chased me for a long time. The cats fell behind a little bit earlier... And the dogs held on longer. Then I turned back and saw them sitting and crying, their tears were rolling down and falling on the ground. Guys, I say, I can't take you with me. I don't know where I'm going... and whether I'll get out. I'm sorry.
It was hard to go through all this. So I walked about 15 kilometers to the village of Maksymivka. I think the Lord was leading me out of this trap. Because it was so quiet, I was surprised. And only when I entered the village, I heard the shelling started behind me. When I looked at myself in the mirror at the place of kind people who sheltered me, I did not recognize myself. It wasn’t me... They fed me and I took a bath. There was a connection, but I was saving my battery, so I turned on the phone when the shelling stopped for a few minutes to call my daughter and say I was alive."
...Today, Ms. Yuliia lives in Zhytomyr region. Together with several other families who were also forced to flee the area of active hostilities, she was sheltered in the House of St. Joseph in the village of Osykove near Berdychiv. "The owners of the house, Mrs. Valentyna and Mr. Oleh, have become like family to us. They say: do not look for anything, you can live here as long as you need. So, we live here, try to be useful, we do not shy away from any work, we help," the woman says.
"Live as long as you need..." - is the most painful topic. The woman no longer has a home. The war has taken away her past. But not her optimism. From time to time, Ms. Yuliia buys groceries and goes to visit "her boys" at the front line. That's how she lovingly calls our defenders who are fighting for every inch of our native land. She goes to "fix the boys' backs, feed them something tasty." When she went for the first time, she says, she was 20 kilometers from Mariinka. But she did not make it home...
"In fact, I had a desire to go to war myself. But since I am 63 years old, no one will take me to the front. So I decided to help in another way. And I will help as long as necessary. Until the Victory," Yuliia adds in parting.
As part of the Ukrainian-Polish project "Family to Family," Yuliia receives monthly financial assistance. This project, which Caritas-Spes Ukraine has been implementing since October last year in cooperation with and thanks to the support of Caritas Polska, is aimed at helping Ukrainian families in financial need and those affected by the consequences of the war in Ukraine.
