With a bouquet of roses in his hand, soldier Yuri climbs into the convoy to embrace his wife, who arrives from Kiev to visit him in eastern Ukraine, close to the front, where he is fighting. He is 56 years old. The woman, Vira, 49. But on platform 4 of the Kramatorsk terminal they walk like two young lovers.
Shortly before 7 a.m., Vira took intercity line 712, the daily connection between Kiev and the city of Donbass, 25 kilometers from one of the most active fronts of the war.
After seven hours of travel, the couple is emotionally reunited. The last time they were together was in the summer. “Tears come to my eyes (…) Today is Vira’s birthday. It is a gift, everything is perfect,” says this big man, wearing a cap and camouflage uniform, mobilized with Territorial Defense.
Like many war-separated couples who reunite for a short time in Kramatorsk, Yuri and Vira rented an apartment in the city. “He has three days off. He just got back from ground zero, as we call the last position before the enemy,” says the woman, dressed in an elegant beige woolen robe.
‘It’s really very dangerous’
Andriy, 36 years old, gets off the same train alone. The woman took him to the station in Kiev, where they hugged for a long time before saying goodbye. The soldier is a member of the 66th mechanized brigade and is returning from a 15-day vacation. His last leave was in June.
The couple has a young son, and Andriy did not want his wife to go to Kramatorsk, because “it is really very dangerous.” “I can’t even begin to measure how hard it is” to say goodbye, the soldier says. “It will take three, four days to adjust. The baby looks like my wife,” he adds.
Other men in uniform get off the train and occupy mainly the first class carriages. After a short leave they return to the front for training or medical treatment.
The train is full, including civilians. These come to visit friends who have stayed in the region, or are displaced persons who return for a few days to care for their homes.
After an hour’s break, the train leaves again full, back to the capital, where it arrives after nine o’clock in the evening.
Kramatorsk, an industrial city and major railway hub that had a population of 150,000 before the war, is regularly targeted by Russian bombings.
On April 8, 2022, a rocket struck the station full of civilians about to be evacuated, killing 61 and injuring more than 160.
Platform 4, where train 712 stops, is protected on both sides by sand-laden wagons.
Under a comforting autumn sun, 26-year-old Vania embraces his wife Ilona for a final farewell. He has been fighting as an assault soldier near Bakhmut for a year. “The support of a loved one is important. That motivates me more,” says the soldier. “It’s not like when we arrived we knew we were going to stay with our wife for five days. Now I’m sad,” he adds. “No matter how I come back (from the war), armless, legless, crazy… I know she will always be with me,” said the young man, who, like other soldiers, does not want to give his last name.
“I leave my heart to protect you”
Next door, Serguiy hugs Kateryna, who cannot hold back her tears before boarding the train. She spent two days with her husband, a 34-year-old computer scientist serving in an assault brigade.
The doors close. The soldiers wait on the platform until the train leaves and blow kisses to their wives or girlfriends.
“I have the impression that when I come to see him, I will fly to him with wings. I want to hold him in my arms and never let him go,” says Kateryna, 32, as the train returns to Kiev. “When I leave, I leave my heart behind to protect it constantly,” he continues between sobs.
A few places away, Alina, 23, was only able to see her boyfriend, a 29-year-old aeronautical engineer, at the headquarters for 24 hours. They’ve only been together for a year.
She works in the medical industry and lives in Poltava (center), one of the eight stops of the 712 train, just a three-hour drive from Kramatorsk.
“I can only come once a month and only for one day. If I could come for just five minutes, I would come the same way,” he says with a sad look. “It’s as if someone gave you a piece of candy and then immediately took it away,” he sighs.
Source: DN
