A Naas man’s reflection on a year of war in Ukraine

A Naas man’s reflection on a year of total war

By Kevin S from Naas 

One year. One long, horrible year. On the 24th of February last year I woke up to a text from a United States Army captain that I know who was sure the invasion would not take place. Sleepily checking my phone in my university accommodation in Galway and seeing "Welp, I was wrong!"; I knew that it was the news I had felt would be coming for some time. Shortly afterwards I began to see the initial casualty reports roll in, and my heart broke for Ukraine.

Since that morning last February, I have been privileged to have done my small bit to help Ukraine from at home in Ireland and abroad along with some incredible friends and colleagues without whose help nothing could have happened. During the height of the Battle of Kyiv, four Dutchmen and I drove supplies to Poland for refugees and the Ukrainian military in an epic 48-hour transcontinental round trip from Nijmegen to Warsaw and back in an old Hyundai and ancient Nissan Micra with a rickety trailer attached. I have also been fortunate enough to have co-arranged an event that raised €1500 for the Red Cross, been a student advisor on a university working group dealing with Ukraine and the war, and have proposed and co-arranged a shoebox collection in the University of Galway to help spread joy at Christmas that saw shoeboxes full of presents be delivered to 138 Ukrainian orphans in Ivano-Frankivsk and Kharkiv.

In January, however, I was honoured to finally got the chance to play my biggest part in this war yet.

On attachment to a major international organisation’s Romanian branch, I spent 8 freezing days in an outpost on the Romanian border doing refugee aid work with some of the finest individuals I have ever met. I also got to finally make it into Ukraine itself and to do an aid run to the wonderful people of Kamianets-Podilskyi near the Ukrainian border with Moldova. What I saw out there when my colleague Tony and I were taken to visit a refugee camp near the city broke my heart. Kids from occupied areas whose homes and lives have been ruined by the Russians without even proper shoes.

Just socks and sandals in below-freezing conditions. Yet did those kids greet us with tears and frowns? No. They greeted us with smiles, literally clambering all over us. Why? Because Ukrainians, even from a young age, are the most resilient, amazing people I have ever met. Two days later, back on the Romanian side of the border, I heard my first air raid alert. Missiles were flying towards Chernivitsi, only 40km from our outpost. Thankfully, those missiles did not find their targets, but in Dnipro a missile launched by the Russian Air Force hit and collapsed an apartment block killing 46 people, including six children. The 14th of January 2023 is a day that will be forever burned into my mind because of that. It is a sound I hope to never hear again. It reminded me of how lucky we were to not come under cruise missile attack on our trip into Ukraine, and how real and dangerous the situation is no matter where you are in the country.

Just because we are not seeing images of the dead and dying nightly on the news anymore, it does not mean that people are not dying daily. Ukrainian soldiers and Marines, many of them ordinary people, men and women, who have been called up or volunteered to defend their homeland, are still freezing in the trenches, under constant artillery barrage. Pilots are still flying against a numerically superior foe, many times a day, against overwhelming odds, or are exhausted from sorties trying to shoot down cruise missiles aimed at civilian targets, protecting innocents that they have never met. Sailors are still bravely holding the line at sea, clearing mines so that grain shipments needed to save millions worldwide from starvation can go ahead, or tackling a Russian fleet much bigger than them to stop cruise missile launches. Humanitarian aid workers are still risking their own lives to save others, and often are intentionally targeted. Do not forget them, and do not forget what they are standing up for.

The very same values of freedom, equality, and democracy that we hold dear here in Ireland. We are privileged to be living comfortable lives in a peaceful country. Others are not quite so fortunate and we must do everything we can to keep supporting Ukrainians during this dark period of their country’s, and the world’s, history.

It has been the greatest honour of my life to help Ukraine and the Ukrainian people. If I could tell Kevin a year ago, watching the casualty reports and reading the stories of the Ghost of Kyiv how much his own life would change, the experiences he would have or the, I am sure, lifelong friends he would make, he scarcely would have believed me. Am I proud of the part I have played in this war? Yes, I most certainly am. But I have only played a very, very small part so far. I am not writing this for clout, nor do I want any praise. Far from it. Those who know me know who has written this.

Those who do not, it does not matter who I am. I am writing this to show how much my own life has changed with this war too and to show people that this war, and all the suffering, is still ongoing, even if it is not headline news every single day. People like my friends who have fought and are fighting on the front line, or who are veterans of Kyiv and Mariupol and Kharkiv, or my friends who volunteer to go to forward areas or into Ukraine repeatedly to bring humanitarian relief are the real heroes of this war. In fact, every Ukrainian man, woman, and child is a hero. To go through what they go through daily, some under direct fire near the front and others under constant threat of a cruise missile cutting their life short in their own homes, and still be able to function is in itself heroic. I am reminded of a video that I saw in the first few days of the war. People, old and young, in a Kyiv metro station sheltering from a massive air raid. Instead of cowering and crying, they were singing. Singing hymns.

Why? Because light and justice will always prevail against evil and oppression.

One day, one glorious day, we will all sit together on some summer's evening amidst the sunflowers and raise a toast to fallen friends, who will live on in our hearts forever.

Slava Ukraini.