Firefighters extinguish the flames of a bombed-out house in Orijiv (Zaporizhia) on June 21. Luis de Vega
The roar of the plane’s engine flying over Orijiv incites panic. Even more so than the artillery shells that have been punishing this city in the southern Zaporizhia region for some time. After a few seconds, while those present stare up at the sky and strain their ears to confirm the worst omens, a general race to the next basement ensues. “Everyone take cover!” is heard. Orijiv, a city disputed for months between the Ukrainian and Russian armies, is now one of the sources from which local troops are launching their counter-offensive south. Kiev has it in their hands, but does not stop being punished by Moscow.
President Volodymyr Zelenskyy visited the Donetsk and Zaporizhia regions earlier in the week and reported that his troops were advancing in “all directions”. “It’s a happy day. “I wish the kids more days like this,” he said. On Wednesday, Deputy Defense Minister Hanna Maliar put the advances between 1,200 and 1,500 meters south of Bakhmut (Donetsk) and around 1,300 meters towards Berdyansk (Saporia).
The noise in the Orijiv sky like a threatening bluebottle interrupts the work of a squad of firefighters emptying administrative documents from an official building that no longer has a living window. They placed the red truck to retrieve dozens of boxes of papers and documents that make up the archive, as well as some office supplies, directly from the height of the first floor. They are transferred to the city of Zaporizhia before another bomb attack ruins everything.
Moments later, the firefighters encounter a group of soldiers in the protective depths of the bunker. The soldier in charge is concerned about the possibility that the presence of two cameras, one from the Ukrainian Ambulance Service and the other from EL PAÍS, is used to determine the coordinates of his position. At first he is overcome with the nervousness of the moment and has a hard time dealing with the explanations that everyone present has limited insurance. He asks for the pictures to be deleted, but backs down after a few minutes. Enabling flight mode on mobile phones is mandatory when accessing front or nearby areas. In this way, a technology is equipped with a firewall that serves to locate the enemy by detecting their phones.
Firefighters save the files of an administrative center in Orijiv.Luis de Vega
The military operation launched by the Ukrainian army to wrest the initiative from the invaders is targeting two strategic locations relatively close to Orijiv that the Russians hold under their control. On the one hand, the Zaporizhia plant; On the other side, the corridor on the shore of the Sea of Azov, which facilitates logistics for the occupying powers of the Kremlin. One of the destinations halfway between Orijiv and this strategic coastal corridor is the town of Tokmak.
Join EL PAÍS to follow all the news and read without restrictions.
subscribe to
Vitali Chorni, 34, who currently holds the position in Orijiv, where there has been no water or electricity for months, was the chief of the fire station until last September. He admits that the seven months he worked in the emergency room under Russian occupation went well, but one day, disguised as a civilian, he came to flee with other neighbors. Here “the situation is difficult and complicated, especially in the last three weeks,” he says, describing the hostilities that erupted after the start of the Ukrainian counter-offensive in the first week of June. Chorni’s shift consists of alternating working days.
On the main street of Orijiv, as in many towns facing the battlefront, a grocery store that relies on a generator to stay open serves as a meeting place and information and supply point. While firefighters fill two large drinking water tanks for the neighborhood, the woman of one of them, Anastasia Bolous, 26, serves several soldiers behind the counter. Those in uniform make up the bulk of the clientele, points out this woman, who stays in the shop alongside her work to accompany her parents, who continue to live in Orijiv. About 10% of the 14,000 inhabitants before the Russian invasion still live here. The bread comes to the city from Zaporizhia twice a week and is distributed among the citizens by the emergency services.
Anastasia Bolous looks after several soldiers in the shop she runs in Orijiv Luis de Vega
“We have no choice but to continue here,” says Roman Semenovic, 46, who has resigned, his family in Polish exile. Another employee of the same store, he continues his work in flip-flops, shorts and a tank top as several projectiles whistle through the air before striking a few hundred yards away. The perception of fear and danger seems to have changed for those who have been living in Orijiv for months and in places like this where the war has started.
It is difficult to describe the tremendous sense of insecurity given the prevailing passivity amidst the attack. The self-protection handbook dictates that you drop to the ground immediately, taking advantage of the two or three second interval between the whistle and impact, but no one around does so. They would spend the day crawling.
It’s as if they assumed that nothing can stop fate from being selected in the lottery, which means living in a place where there are daily bombings. Anastasia doesn’t stop finishing off the soldiers while laughing when asked if she isn’t panicking. “Sometimes I’m scared,” he says without attaching much importance to it. Several stray dogs roam outside. Some worry. Others are unimpressed. Burnt-out cars, destroyed buildings and homes, and rubble litter the streets, where, apart from the military, you rarely see a civilian walking or cycling.
Distribution of humanitarian aid among the residents remaining in Orijiv.Luis de Vega
One of the projectiles hits near several houses. The plume of smoke from the fire from one of them alerts the firefighters, who are steering their vehicle in that direction. It is the same with which they unload the boxes from the archive, distribute bread or distribute water. Now it fulfills its function as a truck bomb. They quickly unroll the hose and pull out the ladders.
The impact resulted in only one casualty, who had already been evacuated when she arrived. A group of neighbors watch as the flames engulf the building amid a dense cloud that alternates between black and white for seconds. Inside, some detonations are triggered by contact with pressurized water. Beneath the witnesses’ feet lies the characteristic carpet of green leaves, which usually burst into the air and cover the ground on impact. A few meters away, in the middle of the road, the crater.
“I only fear God,” shouts talkative Viacheslav Koutun, a 72-year-old retired artist who is picking up bread and a box of humanitarian aid from some municipal offices. He looks sadly at the building, a late 19th-century construction whose facades are all riddled with holes and whose empty hole in the roof half is covered with a blue UN tarpaulin. His wife Tamara, 66, joins the conversation: “I’m tired. Let’s see if we can win the war.” “We want to celebrate our victory here at home in Orijiv. Eating meat and drinking beer… a celebration of local produce,” adds the man, gazing at the sky. You don’t just look up when you feel the Russian planes and missiles. Even if, as in this case, you have to beg for everything to end once and for all.
A column of smoke indicates the spot where a Russian projectile just landed and destroyed several houses in Orijiv.Luis de Vega
Follow all international information on Facebook and Twitteror in our weekly newsletter.
Subscribe to continue reading
Read without limits