This is the desperate eviction from Kiev. Cars bounce from armor to armor, slowly approaching as terrified refugees fleeing Putin’s bombs pack their belongings and head for Western security.
Vehicles loaded to the brim with huge suitcases tied securely to roofs and every possible part of the space occupied by family valuables.
A woman was trapped in a car sitting with her cat in a passenger box while her husband drove.
I joined the big getaway this morning after security advisers told me and the rest of the British media that it was time to leave.
Earlier, my sleep was shattered at 3:30 a.m. by air raid sirens, followed by thunder explosions and sounds of long-range gunfire echoing in the capital – and the gloomy realization of the Russian army on the doorstep and what it could lead to. to that of those who choose to stay.
The tough choice we faced was to risk Kiev with the possibility of heavy fighting, civil unrest and a possible food shortage, or to return to a safer place. And thousands of its citizens also chose the latter in what turned out to be a desperate escape from Russian conquest.
We quickly packed up a month later in the Ukrainian capital and headed west, just as the Russians were entering from the opposite east in their brutal quest to take Kiev.
Nick Craven is on the road with thousands of refugees fleeing Putin’s security bombs in the West
The UN estimates that up to five million Ukrainians can flee their homes, and if the scenes in Kiev are something, it will be a miserable race to get out
The Ukrainian army has built checkpoints on the 540-kilometer road to Lviv, which turns the already long journey into a grueling marathon, as huge queues of traffic accumulate.
Driving in a mustard-colored car with the words “press” and “television” hoping not to be attacked by Putin’s soldiers, our convoy of five cars, also made up of other journalists, headed for Lviv, near the Polish border.
When we left our hotel in the city center, the streets around Maidan Square, which is in the heart of Kiev, were deserted, except for a convoy of Ukrainian armored vehicles.
Driving in a mustard-colored car with the words “press” and “television” hoping not to be attacked by Putin’s soldiers, our convoy of five cars, also made up of other journalists, headed for Lviv, near the Polish border. .
But it quickly became clear that this would be a painful journey full of danger.
When we left our hotel in the city center, the streets around Maidan Square, which is in the heart of Kiev, were deserted, except for the column of Ukrainian armored vehicles.
On the main highway, we encountered thousands of people fleeing by car or on foot, carrying what they could, from the Russian attack on their favorite city.
The UN estimates that up to five million Ukrainians can flee their homes, and if the scenes in Kiev are anything, there will be a miserable race to get out.
Hundreds stood by the road, laden with their meager possessions, frantically trying to lift an elevator from all sorts of cars heading west. Families with young children, the elderly, young people and even some men in military uniforms all have one thing in common: to escape.
After more than an hour of driving, our progress was alarmingly slow, with only a mile or two covered in virtual traffic. The distant sounds of air raid and automatic firing sirens continued to echo in the background, only intensifying the growing tension of the hordes fleeing the city at snail speed.
An enterprising young man swept through the gaps in the electric scooter traffic – though who knows where his battery would take him?
The distant sounds of sirens for air attack and automatic firing continued to echo in the background and only intensified the growing tension of the hordes, which were fleeing the city at a snail’s pace.
On an overpass we saw groups of soldiers waiting to greet the enemy at the gates
Vehicles are loaded to the brim with huge suitcases tied securely to roofs and every possible part of the space occupied by family values
The tough choice we faced was to risk Kiev with the possibility of heavy fighting, civil unrest and a possible food shortage, or to return to a safer place. And thousands of its citizens have also chosen the latter in what has become a desperate escape from Russian conquest.
On the opposite lane of the bilateral lane, there were almost no cars moving east, the direction from which the Russians were advancing, except for small convoys of military vehicles.
On the hard side of the road we heard a strange rhythmic bell from an oncoming vehicle, which turned out to be an army truck with a punctured wheel moving on the rims. The windshield was shattered and the panels of his body were punctured with bullet holes.
On an overpass we saw groups of soldiers waiting to greet the enemy at the gates. One had an RPG, but there were not many signs of another weapon capable of stopping the advance of Russian armor.
The Ukrainian army has set up checkpoints on the 540-kilometer road to Lviv, which turns the already long journey into a grueling marathon as huge queues of traffic accumulate.
After nearly two hours on the road, we had barely covered four miles – and we were still out of sight at the checkpoint we were crawling to.
Our security advisers had informed us that before starting the journey, we should always keep close to the vehicle in front. After passing the first checkpoint, we would decide if and when any of our five vehicles should be refueled, which would be another headache.
Each of us sits in a clumsy bulletproof vest in a helmet-wide car while we hear huge chunks of air strikes not far away.
But we are very happy to be with the British former military advisers, who could easily cope with any challenge we will face in the future.
For the ordinary Ukrainian people in the cars around us, leaving their homes with everything they can carry, their future is much more uncertain.
Chaotic scenes have already been reported at Polish border crossings far ahead of us as millions struggle to leave their homeland, perhaps forever.