Voice of Ukraine

From Ira Kapitonova near Kyiv (Day 528):

We will not hide them from their children,
but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord,
and his might, and the wonders that he has done.
Psalm 78:4

It was a day of scorching heat and endless sirens, turning into another night of terror. It felt like an air raid warning was issued minutes after the previous one was lifted. Not every air raid warning ends with an attack, but the sirens have to be turned on whenever there is a possibility of one. So people must be warned when Russian military planes (capable of firing missiles) take off, or our radars capture air strike activity.

Of course, we are used to these after 17 months of full-scale war. We already know which locations are more likely to be targeted and which places are relatively safe, thanks to our air-defense forces. So an air raid warning for a city far from the front line doesn’t mean that life stops, yet it does mean that you need to be extra alert, ready to react and seek safety if something changes.

This night it started with a massive air raid warning because 15 Russian military airplanes were headed to the missile launch zone. There were Kalibr missiles launched from the warships in the Black Sea and kamikaze drones coming from several locations. There were also missiles launched from the territory of Belarus (to cause more anxiety and possibly get Belarus actively engaged in the war). More missiles are expected to cross into the airspace of Ukraine at about 3 am. It was a great “show of power and terror,” and its main purpose was not military. Of course, the morning news will tell us about the losses and destruction. However, the main goal of all of this is to cause fear and make us lose heart.

For most people currently living in relatively safe locations, this air raid will mostly be just a news report. Some will hear the sound of drones or missiles (like the one that whizzed over our house about an hour ago) or the explosions from our air-defense systems hitting the targets in the skies. Many of our friends in Kyiv will be spending this night in a bomb shelter or (which is more likely) the hallways of their apartments, as that is considered the safest part of the building. Some will donate to a military fund before going to bed, feeling the need to do at least something to bring this horror to an end. Some will cover their heads with a pillow or a blanket to silence the disturbing war sounds and catch some sleep before a busy day. Some will stay awake until all sirens clear, feeling as if their alertness is somehow helping keep everyone safe.

We’ve learned to co-exist with this war. It is not something we enjoy, but it is something we must endure, for giving up is not an option.

Last October, when Russia launched the first massive missile attack on the power infrastructure of Ukraine, we were planting a new raspberry patch in grandma’s garden. We were uncertain about what this attack could mean to us on a large scale (about 100 missiles launched, 11 critical infrastructure objects damaged throughout Ukraine), we were checking in with our friends and relatives in Kyiv who experienced their first extended blackout (up to 12 hours without electricity), but we kept working on the raspberry patch. This summer, we enjoyed our first harvest from this new patch. The berries were unusually large and tasted great. I am sure they were sweeter because we clearly remembered the day they were planted. Those raspberries became an encouragement and a promise to me that uncertainty and terror will pass, but perseverance and resilience will be rewarded with a great harvest. May it be so.