Stories from the frontline

Life Leaving Kramatorsk

Four months ago, the East Life community hub opened its doors for the first time. Now it’s closed them for the last… in Kramatorsk, at least.

ANNA BOWLES

AUG 30, 2026

I am currently in Kramatorsk, mostly to document people leaving. Volunteer teams are now evacuating families from exposed parts of the city rather than to it. Although there’s no danger of the Russians storming Kramatorsk – they just don’t have the vast resources that would take – they are methodically destroying it, and its sister city Sloviansk, from the air with drones, missiles and guided bombs. 

The main streets are covered with anti-drone netting and there are very few people around. You frequently hear the buzzing of FPV drones overhead, and gunfire as soldiers try to shoot them down. I’ve seen dozens of burnt-out vehicles. In this area, the FPVs – or more precisely their operators, the ‘elite’ Russian drone unit Rubicon which has set up in the ruined high rises of Kostiantynivka to the south – are not routinely going after civilian pedestrians; yet. But even those who stay to help others, like Tanya of Skhid Zhyttia/East Life, are departing, before the Russians gain complete fire control (ability to destroy at will) over the roads out.

I wrote about East Life when they opened four months ago. On Friday, 28 August, they distributed humanitarian aid to local people for the last time. Tanya invited me to the office the next day. I had a cunning plan to make myself welcome…

British chocolate!!!

The situation in Kramatorsk is bad now…

Tanya: And it’s getting worse quickly. With Kostiantynivka and Druzhkivka it was more gradual. It really started here in May. Now you can see FPV drones with your own eyes. They make themselves at home. They’re ‘liberating’ us. [She does air quotes.]

We [she and her husband, Vlad] are starting to pack because we plan to leave on 2 September, because it’s very dangerous here now. I realised that I mustn’t leave it to the time when I can’t use our van to drive out my stuff, the fund’s stuff [because the Russians would destroy every vehicle on the road]. Though there isn’t much left. Yesterday we tried our hardest to hand out everything we had left. We were giving out several packs of adult nappies and sanitary pads at a time, because nobody will be left here to help anyone. I know we were the only group in Kramatorsk giving out adult nappies for bedridden people, and we’re closing down.

Operation Change gave us flyers with the evacuation hotline number. I’ve been handing it to everyone and urging them, look, here’s the hotline, call them and find out how to leave with your animals, with bedridden family members.

People came yesterday and brought us sugar, vegetables they’d grown in their gardens, all sorts of things [she chokes up a bit]. Their way of thanking us. They were saying, we’re so sorry you’re leaving. I was in tears, telling them that the situation is at a point where you need to think about leaving too.

Is this office in a particularly dangerous location?

So-so. Nothing has hit us directly here. I’ve tried to avoid having people queueing up. The day the Chudo Market [a chain supermarket] was hit [on 20 August], I was at the office, and it was very loud. And I thought of closing right there and then, because people were here. I was responsible for them, I’d opened the door to them and that’s why they come. The girls [East Life’s four additional volunteers] said, you go, we’ll stay here until you find somewhere in Pavlohrad. But I said, it’s very dangerous here, and I won’t be here, and if something happens and I’m very far away… I couldn’t bear it. I opened East Life, and took that responsibility on myself.

There are a lot of blackouts. Time was, it was once a week, now we’re using the EcoFlow every day because there’s no electricity, but we have to keep working.

East Life is definitely moving to Pavlohrad?

I’ve found a flat for myself. We’ve agreed the rent with the owners, who’ve gone to Zakarpattia and bought a house. For East Life, I’m on the hunt for new premises every day. That’s our biggest problem. I even write to landlords saying, ‘We’re a charity, can you give us a discount? I’ll rent the place long-term.’ Because I know that if I leave Kramatorsk, it’s unlikely I’ll come back – it’ll be like Kostiantynivka, there won’t be anywhere to come back to. They say, ‘No, that’s the price.’

I need somewhere with water, electricity and a toilet, as minimum. I found several places that were more or less suitable if I stretched my budget, but when I said people would be coming there to receive humanitarian aid they were like, ‘Oh, that means queues, that means people. No, we’re not going to rent to you.’

The prices were so high, 15,000 or 20,000 hryvnia (£250/£300 or $335/$450) a month, and then there’s utility bills… I’m really furious, thinking, what’s wrong with you? I’m trying to help people here. It’s not like I’m going to just help people from Kramatorsk and Sloviansk and nobody else. Yes, IDPs will get priority, but if I get enough supplies I want to help the locals as well.

People ask where we’re going and when I say Pavlohrad they say, ‘Oh, that’s not far, maybe we’ll come too.’ I know it’s loud in Pavlohrad, but not like it is in Kramatorsk [laughs]!

DeepState map of the front, 29 August 2026. Red is occupied territory, green territory reclaimed by Ukraine.

Are the other volunteers going to Pavlohrad too?

I think one is coming. She’s packing up her things, but the problem is her husband is bedridden and she needs some way to transport him. I think she’s going to ask volunteers to do it. But it’s insanely hard to find accommodation [in Pavlohrad]. If you do find something, the price is sky-high, and there’s so many conditions – no animals, no children. But what are you supposed to do, leave them behind?

The rest of the team are dispersing around Ukraine. Everyone was sad yesterday. We sat around after closing and talked. I said, girls, don’t be upset. I’ll find somewhere for us to move to and we’ll start work in Pavlohrad.

I’ve bored my husband a bit. Every weekend we went somewhere in Kramatorsk and I took memorial photos. Yes, there’s the plane [a monument in the central park], there’s the flag. I took a photo and ticked the box! [Laughs]

Have you lived in Kramatorsk all your life?

Yes. I was born here. I know every centimetre of the city. I know I’m young but a lot of things havehappened to me in 25 years.

When I arrived at the East Life office, this elderly man and his son were waiting for the Road of Life evacuation team to pick them up.

East Life offered a lot more than just handouts.

I started to do courses in basic psychological first aid […] and I thought, why not try to gather people in small groups to talk about life, to distract them from what’s going on? I brought art materials, tea, invited five women at a time. And it went better than I expected. We talked, I’d prepared what to go through with them – their rights, femininity, helping them to remember that they’re women, remember who they are, that they should take care of themselves. Not just through painting, but to take care of their inner selves. They went away really happy and I thought, wow, we can keep going in this direction.

I immediately wrote [to the BEARR Trust] and they were willing to fund us. They asked me to explain in more detail exactly what we would be doing in the sessions, and for how many people. It’s five at a time and we’ve had four sessions.

Why don’t the women look after themselves?

Well, as they put it, it’s ingrained in them that they should do things for other people and put themselves last. Like, ‘I’d rather help my husband to do something. I won’t even make a cup of coffee for myself.’ Something like that. At some point we need to say, ‘Stop’ and start giving ourselves a little attention. I just wrote, ‘Come along for tea, coffee and a chat’ in the Skhid Zhyttia group. You don’t have to paint grand landscapes, it’s just about having a rest from everyday life.

And during the training sessions, thank God, it was actually quiet! The women forgot there are such things as sirens, guided bombs, all this going on, and really got a chance to relax. Thirty minutes would somehow turn into an hour and a half. I’m not a psychologist, telling people what they need, but it makes them feel just a little better. I want to be a friend to everyone who comes, so they start opening up. Everyone, not just women, has closed themselves off for five years, so to speak. They don’t trust anyone, they won’t tell anyone anything. I want people to open up a little, for them to feel a bit like they did before the war. 

How many of the people who use East Life are leaving?

Hard to say. During the last month fewer people have been coming to us for adult nappies and sanitary items. And very few for children’s nappies. I know there are still children in Kramatorsk, but really not many. A month ago I gave away all the supplies I had for children and said, that’s it. I would really like to support you, but now it’s time for you to leave. Because I knew that if I were to keep giving out nappies, they’d stay here to get them. And I said, no, no, no, I’m not taking on responsibility for you sitting here and waiting for that help. Go somewhere else. Evacuate.

And the number of people coming here significantly decreased, especially those with children. Maybe about 30% fewer people wanting [adult] nappies.

At this point we hear drones buzzing outside the window, and gunfire as soldiers try to shoot them down.

Tanya: I’m so sick of them. It’s just horrible. I remember 2022… Yes, there was incoming, it was terrifying, then there were guided bombs and Shaheds, but it wasn’t like this! You don’t even know which you’re more afraid of. Are you afraid of guided bombs, or this thing that’s buzzing around and you can’t see it? Where is it, what is it? I seems like when I go to bed at night… Yesterday I said to my husband, ‘Listen, is there something buzzing in my head or is it actually buzzing.’ He says, ‘It’s fine, go to sleep!’ But I feel like there’s buzzing in my head anyway, there’s buzzing everywhere.

What made you finally decide to leave?

Our GAZelle van [was hit by a drone, as it was parked outside their house]. Before that I was full of energy, flying around. But when there was a strike right here… And it wasn’t a military target, it wasn’t carrying weapons around. 

With your [really the Roxolani Trust’s] help the GAZelle was repaired, and we’ve moved it to another garage where it can be covered with something. But it made me think. It was nine at night, and I thought, I could have been walking home from the neighbours’. If it had been morning or afternoon, I could have been out walking with my child.

Roxolani Trust provided Tanya with a drone detector.

You said to me, ‘Tanya, I’ll come in August if Kramatorsk is safe enough.’ I told you I’d wait for you, and I did, and you came. Mission accomplished, now I can leave calmly! 

Yesterday as I closed the doors I felt so sad that I won’t be opening them for people any more. But never mind, if this place closes something new will happen, something in Pavlohrad, and it will continue from there. I haven’t closed down East Life, I’ve just closed the doors here, where it’s got very dangerous. I’ll open them somewhere you can walk the streets more or less normally. Just not here!

Tanya and her silent but endlessly supportive husband, Vlad.

Help Tanya with her goal of reopening East Life in Pavlohrad by donating via PayPal or GoFundMe.

https://annabowles.substack.com/p/life-leaving-kramatorsk?r=17e8q4&utm_medium=ios

Anna Talks Ukraine

I’m a Brit who spends a lot of time volunteering in Ukraine, especially the east, which is worst affected by the war. I travel, conduct interviews, dodge missiles and try to see the situation with minimal filter so I can help people back home do the same.

……………

‘He picked up a weapon and made a video for his wife and children saying he was going to Ukraine to kill’

There are many foreigners fighting for Russia, often having been duped into frontline positions with promises of relatively safe roles in the rear. Ukrainian soldier Max captured a Cuban mercenary.

ANNA BOWLES

AUG 16, 2026

After the Cultural Forces concert for recuperating soldiers at a military hospital I wrote about in my previous post, Max from Brovary, near Kyiv, a military instructor, told me his story.

Tell me about your experiences.

Max: I’ve been fighting since 2022. I’m a volunteer, and I was in the infantry at first, then transferred to a drone unit. I also teach. I take people to the positions in person and teach them how to behave in a given situation. How to behave with weapons, with a drone, with an anti-aircraft gun, how to protect vulnerable points.

You’ve been injured?

Yes, more than once. Shrapnel wounds, gunshot wounds, wounds from FPV and glide bomb strikes… Knee, legs, torso… a lot, in the course of four years.

But you keep fighting? You don’t want to leave the country?

No, I don’t want to leave the country, for the usual reasons. I have a family, I have children, I have a country, which I have been protecting since 2022. I protect its interests, not the interests of the state, the deputies or the bureaucracy. 

It doesn’t matter to me who’s president, or whether political parties change places. For me what counts is Ukraine, and that means Ukrainians. It’s Ukrainians who should decide what to do next – whether to defend ourselves or give up and move on – not people in America or the EU. If the Ukrainian people support the war [i.e. Ukraine’s defence of its land] we will continue to the end. If the Ukrainian people say that’s enough, stop, that’s what we’ll do. The president, the prime minister, the defence minister are all given certain responsibilities, and they carry them out, but that doesn’t mean they can influence the position of the Ukrainian people.

Max at the hospital.

Do you think Russian soldiers believe that they are fighting for the truth?

For what truth? Let’s ask a Russian soldier what the truth is. He came to take our land, to take our identity as Ukrainians, to take our freedom.

And what would he answer?

Well, he could answer like this: take his parents by the hand, lead them to a toilet and say, ‘Look, here’s our faith, here’s what we’re protecting.’ [Russian troops have notoriously been documented stealing toilets and other household furniture and items to send home.]

Ukrainians built everything we have. No one gave it to us, not the state. This is my garage, my house, I built it or renovated it. Then a Russian comes, looks at it all – the toilet, the washing machine – and he wants it. Because they don’t have gas in their homes, from Moscow to Tyumen.

Are there many foreigners fighting for Russia?

We’ve had foreigners from Nigeria, Cuba – I’ve seen them personally – Armenia, Pakistan, Iran, North Korea – a lot from North Korea. They’re experienced fighters. But most foreigners are fighting for money, not patriotism. Ukrainians are fighting for their country, their children, wives and parents. 


Cultural Forces run a library for soldiers. On the table above:

Top row: Crimea is Ukraine: The true history of Crimea 2024; A child’s picture with the words ‘You are our heroes! We thank you!’; A thank-you certificate (text not legible); Transformed by Trauma: Stories of Post-Traumatic Growth.

Middle row: Not After 30 Years, a novel by Viktor Lohachev; pamphlets produced by/for Defenders of Ukraine; Jack London novel or compendium (title(s) not visible); Since the Yezhovshchina [the worst period of Soviet repression, 1936-8] by Olha Mak; unknown.

Bottom row: Jack London novel or compendium (title(s) not visible); Genocide of Ukraine in the 20th Century; Collected Works by Tarjei Vesaas; How are you, Brother? How are you, Sister? How to talk with those who have undergone traumatic experiences.


Ivanna told me you took a Cuban prisoner.

Max: Yes. I met four Cubans fighting for Russia in the Siversk area, and took one of them prisoner. The other three unfortunately were killed, for the propaganda of the Russian Federation, for an idea that Cubans themselves don’t support. I can say that, because when I took him prisoner he was sure he was in the Russian Federation [i.e. sincerely believed that occupied Ukraine was part of Russia].

When I took him prisoner, he dropped his weapon and shouted out, “Putin!” I shouted out [in English] “Ukraine forever! ZSU!” He didn’t understand [“ZSU”, which stands for Armed Forces of Ukraine], and said he was from Cuba and had signed a contract.

And so I got to know him, and was kind to him. I gave him first aid, painkillers, put a tourniquet on him to stop him bleeding and keep him conscious and able to get to our positions.

Do you know what happened to him after that?

I only know that he’s gone back to Cuba. He was very, very lucky to survive. I hope people like him don’t act in this stupid way in the future. When he joined a Russian motorcycle brigade of his own free will, it was for money. But I think no amount of money in the world is worth a man’s life. I understand that he was young, 25 years old, But that’s not an excuse for coming to Ukraine to kill our people. If he turns up in Ukraine again, I won’t make the mistake of letting him live.

I let him live because I felt sorry for him. He just dropped his weapon and I felt sorry for him and let him go. Another time, he would not have come out of that forest alive.

He knew when he came here what might happen. He picked up a weapon and made a video for his wife and children saying he was going to Ukraine to kill. I have never forgiven him for this and he should know that if I should suddenly see him in civilian life, he will die.

A memorial to fallen Ukrainian soldiers stood behind Cultural Forces as they played – and beside Max as he told me of his feelings about the captured Cuban.

About 20,000 Cubans are thought to have been recruited to fight for Russia. But there are many South Americans fighting for Ukraine too. For example, this recent news report is about Colombian volunteers storming a Russian position


That interview snippet is from four months ago. The situation in Kramatorsk has significantly worsened; some of my friends, interviewees and contacts have now left, or are in the process of leaving. I am returning to Ukraine at the end of August and wherever I go I will bring you as many honest stories as I can.

………

Anna Update from yesterday :

Currently we have no power or water and I’m hiding in the bathroom because apparently it’s a guided bomb party out there tonight. But there is internet! Which means my husband can tell me about the water dripping through the light fittings in our kitchen ceiling at home. The human mind being what it is, this concerns me more than my immediate environment.

I’m sat here trying to transcribe another post but it’s slow going because I’m also trying to bring in donations for literal on-fire emergencies, respond intelligently to local activists who are at the end of their rope, set up more interviews, organise a van for an org whose car got smashed up, keep contacts appraised on the latest via DM… A quote from one of the local orgs is below…

HOLY ****, I JUST SAW UN VEHICLES IN KRAMATORSK!!!! Two Land Cruisers. We’d just come in from Sloviansk via the Yasnohirka road and were heading south down Oleksy Tykhoho Street, and passed them heading north. What were they doing??

4 comments

  1. Roman Sheremeta :

    Trump: “The level of animosity between Putin and Zelensky is causing the war not to end.”

    My response: No, your buddy Putin is causing this war and your betrayal of Ukraine is what’s prolonging it.

    • All the empathy of a retarded spastic as usual. You keep thinking he will tone it down, but it keeps getting worse.

  2. I know from my own experience with my friend who has been providing med evac vehicles and comfort items to the frontline since 2014 that chocolate is great for people under stress and hardship. It’s a great pickmeup and always offers at least some short term relief.
    It’s just sad that the tropical zones that produce cocoa contain so many scummy putlerist regimes.

  3. For first time, Ukraine shows its British Rapid Ranger air-defense system mounted on Spanish off-road chassis. Its crews call it “close-range storm”
    This 500-kilogram missile system is designed to catch what radar misses.

    BY
    OLENA MUKHINA
    03/09/2026

    Follow Euromaidan Press
    A crew from Ukraine’s 1030th “Aquila” Anti-Aircraft Missile and Artillery Regiment is loading the RapidRanger with anti-aircraft missiles ahead of a combat deployment. Source: Ukraine’s 1030th “Aquila” Anti-Aircraft Missile and Artillery Regiment

    https://euromaidanpress.com/2026/09/03/for-first-time-ukraine-shows-its-british-rapid-ranger-air-defense-system-mounted-on-spanish-off-road-chassis-its-crews-call-it-close-range-storm/

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