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On February 24, we woke up to explosions. I don't remember exactly what time it was, but it was earlier than 6 o'clock, for sure. At 6 o'clock, we started calling 

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teachers asking them not to send their children to school, because we didn't know what would happen next. We were still watching TV, we still had electricity. 

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We got ready for work at 7 a.m. and went to work as usual. We met a rather old man, he was feeding the pigeons and said that something was very loud today,

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and my husband said: «Father, the war has started». He didn't believe it, my grandfather said: «Is he crazy?» We went to work. We took the tram, I went to my school,

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my husband went to his school. Luckily, we didn't have any children anymore, the teachers came and went, because the girls called 

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and said that the children were very scared, the children were crying a lot, so that mum wouldn't go anywhere, so that mum wouldn't leave. In such a situation, it's too much to ask a person 

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to leave a child. The teaching staff, who lived close to the school, gathered, and our principal also came. We talked about what we were going to do, 

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and assigned duties. We still had electricity, but we were afraid to leave the school without anyone, especially since our shelter from the bombing was open

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and seemed to be working at the time. In the evening, we returned home, and there was no electricity - some wire was broken in the village of Myrne,

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and we were actually left without electricity, although it was repaired later.On the 25th we still had no electricity We walked (the tram was still running) to my husband's school 

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because he still had electricity to charge the phones. We read the news, we all knew that something terrible was happening. Then we returned home, the electricity was still on, 

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and we watched some more TV.I don't remember, I think, on the morning of the 26th, they switched off the electricity and didn't switch it back on. On Saturday 26th,

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I went to my mother's house, cooked her some food, told her that she had better get ready, because something was going to go wrong, 

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and we went back to school in a taxi with the principal. She tried to give us our work books, so I kept them, although I did not want to take them away 

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because I did not believe that what was happening would continue. We agreed on duties, and Saturday, that was it. On Sunday, I was on duty at school, and my husband was on duty on Saturday, 

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he did not have time to return before the curfew and stayed at school overnight. His school No. 30 was located closer to the outskirts of the city, it had not been shelled yet,

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but it was louder than ours. On the first of March, we moved from Myrne village to my mother's place in the centre of Illichivsk district, to Yuvileynyi cinema, 

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where there was still light. When we arrived, there was no heating, but there was still gas and electricity. On the first day, my husband tried to go to school,

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but he was not allowed to go, because the shelling had already started near the school, at the sports stadium. On the second day, I tried to go to school.

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My husband's students, graduates, drove us to the Pentahon, it was quite loud there, several arrivals on the way, and the tram was already broken. There was a Grad shell near my school, 

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on the edge of the sports ground. We went into the school, into the bomb shelter; there were two children there, and we took them to their parents [so that] they would not 

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be left in a cold school without heating. We suggested that they [move] somewhere closer to the city centre, because if there was an arrival near the stadium, 

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it meant that they must have started shooting. After the hostilities, I went to look at the house, and when I took my children there, the house was intact.

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I don't know what happened to the children. We walked back to my mother's place. On March 6, the gas was cut off, there was no more electricity; my mother had no gas. 

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We decided that we had to go back home to Myrnyi, because there was stove heating and we could cook some food. On March 7, we got ready and went there with my husband, 

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hoping that our house was safe. On the 8th, we came back and took my mother and walked to Myrne. It was already quite loud at Piati Vorota. My mother is already 70 

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and a little bit older, so this transition was harder for her than we thought, but it's okay, we got there. Then on March 17, we went to visit my mother's apartment. 

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Two bombs had already fallen between my son's house and my mother's house, and there were no windows. The door to my son's house was jammed, 

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and it was very good that [no one] was there, because they opened it after the war, even when we left, after the active phase. The children were with my sister-in-law's mother. 

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The last time I heard from my son was on March 2, he said he was at work and everything was fine. After that, I heard from him for the first time around May 20. 

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Then we knew they were alive. On March 17, we did not know whether they were alive. The main thing was that we knew they were not there, 

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because there was no way they would have come down from the 5th floor with a child. We returned to Myrnyi. On March 28, a shell hit our house. I don't know what kind of shell it was, 

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the crater was more than half my height, I'm not very tall. The neighbouring house was destroyed, it is not subject to restoration, the load-bearing wall completely collapsed. 

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Our house was damaged, in fact, 10 houses on our street were damaged. Our roof was damaged, all the windows were blown out; we were cut a little, it was a normal cut, 

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I didn't know we had so much blood, the blood was not washed off. Then, in May, I tried to wash the floor, but it was already stained; I wiped the dust and the blood stains got darker. 

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We didn't have much to eat, we didn't think we could stay in such conditions for a long time. In general, Myrnyi was notable for the lack of water supply. There is a water supply system, 

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but it hasn't worked since March 7. Before we went to my mother's house, we stocked up on 200 litres of water, but it's going slowly.

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We tried to take water from two firefighters' tanks, one near school 50 and the other near the building materials store. The men first threw buckets there on ropes, 

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then went down and took it, but there was not much water, but we had enough to drink. Another point. We immediately started saving food. My mother bought the last bread, 

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I think, on March 1, and we immediately started to share it, so we survived. We still have a loaf of bread left. We have a dog and 3 cats,

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we didn't think we would leave the animals to the mercy of fate, but thanks to a neighbour, they survived until March 7, when we returned. Then we started trying to keep the animals alive. 

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The neighbour helped us with food, and we exchanged money. We didn't have any potatoes at all. We came from my mother's house, and there were a dozen and a half or two potatoes. 

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At the beginning of the war, we had 2 kilos of buckwheat and a kilo and a half of noodles. The day before, I had a fight with my husband because he had bought a kilo 

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and a half of lard and salted it. I asked him why he bought it, we wouldn't eat it, but thanks to that lard, we shared it all... no more than a cup of tea, because there was not much water.

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We cooked soup, 3.5 litres of soup lasted us for a day and a half. We survived because we immediately started sharing. The shelling did not stop, there was nowhere to buy food, 

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everything did not look good. People from the neighbouring streets started coming to our street, saying that the Russians were most likely starting to enter our village, 

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we had to leave because there would be more shelling, they would take over street after street. I was completely overwhelmed. I was running around the house, throwing things,

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leftovers and shouting that we should go somewhere else.  For some reason, I was very scared at the time. It was the beginning of April, the first of the month. 

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My husband calmed me down and said: you have to understand that the only chance to stay alive is to stay here. He was right. We stayed, so we stayed alive. 

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On the 14th, I think, our village was completely taken over by Russian troops, men were taken from our street for filtration. 

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My husband told me from the filtering centre that the children were alive, they were in russia at the time, that our son was wanted, that all the relatives were alive, 

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only my niece's husband died. Then my husband's brother and sister came, it was April. We started to get bread, my colleague brought it around April 15-16. 

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After that, we started to leave the village, started to go to school 45 for water, there were several wells there. In peacetime, it would take about 40-45 minutes,

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but we ran it in 20 minutes, despite the 20-litre tank. Then life started to get better. We applied for humanitarian aid, and after the 20th we received humanitarian aid, 

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so we already had food. I went for filtration, I think, on May 12. That was the first time I saw my husband. He said that by the time he returned from the filtration, 

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I should have the things packed. Well, I came back from filtration, we were conditionally lucky - we turned around in one day. I told my mother that we were packing.

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My mother, like all people of my age, looked at me, and I told her: «Mum, you have to understand that I'm leaving here. If my husband says we have to leave, we will leave. 

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I will not be able to come to you, you are coming with me». She said that was fine. On May 17, my husband came around 12 am. Before that, we had a very loud night, 

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I didn't sleep the whole night, and I fell asleep right away. Then my neighbour knocks on the door and says: «Don't worry, come out». So I came out. Another moment... 

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When I saw my husband at the filtration, I did not recognise him, he was completely grey, well, he had grown hair, unshaven, but completely, completely grey. 

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I thought he was 65 years old, at least. He came back shaved, and the first two days were very difficult for him, psychologically, he had a heart attack. His blood pressure went up a lot, 

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and he was taken from the filtration unit to [the hospital], apparently he had a concussion, to Novoazovsk, they gave him an injection to make him feel better 

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and said that they could send him back to the filtration unit or he could go on his own. He said he would go somehow on his own.He was given a ride somewhere,

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and walked from Novoazovsk to Mariupol. He said he had to get legalised there. We went to the hospital in the 17th district, my dad lives nearby. 

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I knew they were living in a country house in Kamensk, but I couldn't see the house. We left 17th Street on foot, went to see my daughter-in-law's mother's house, 

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which was completely destroyed, and came to my husband's mother's house, which is in the city centre, not far from school 65. My husband's brother was also packing.

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It was clear that we were going to leave. The only question was when and how, but it had to be decided. It was raining heavily at the time, we were very wet, 

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but the traffic was starting to move a little bit. We got from the city centre to Mukhina street by bus, followed my husband's colleagues, a physical education teacher. 

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A bomb had fallen not far from their house, the house was in the same condition as ours - the roof, windows were gone, everything was cracked, the roof was leaking, 

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but they were alive too. Later we tried to find out where the school documents were left, where my husband and his employees were hiding the certificates. 

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The next day, we found out, and he warned his colleagues who could distribute it to children, and we began to decide how we would leave.

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We left on May 23, accompanied by the father of the boy who was taught by my husband, the student's father. Thanks to him, we crossed the border and in Tahanroh, 

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this guy picked us up and brought us to another student of my husband's. We spent the night, took tickets to Rostov, and from Rostov we went straight to St Petersburg. 

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In St Petersburg, we took a taxi to Ivanhorod. My mum and I were released quickly, and my husband was kept for interrogation. My husband didn't keep his phone, it broke, 

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and the only thing I regretted was that I didn't take the card out of the phone; it had bank accounts and everything else. In principle, we solved this issue.

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There was no thought about it at the time. We walked to Narva and waited for my husband with my mother. All the policemen, all the border guards came up to us, 

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asking why we were standing there, how we were doing, if we would come in. I said no, we were waiting and we would stand there until we got there. 

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When we left, we bought a Russian phone card, so I could call my son and tell him that we were already in russia. We didn't cry then, we cried later. 

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We waited for my husband, completed the paperwork, the transition, and were given specific recommendations on how to move on. Kyivstar came back into action,

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I could communicate normally with my son, and we slowly got to Germany. I mean, the way we travelled, we were on time even when we were supposed to be late. 

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In Berlin, the train was a little late for Giessen, so we made it there, and the train from Giessen to Hagen was late, so we made it that way.

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In Hagen, my son made arrangements, and their new friend met us and took us to their place. On May 28, we arrived in Germany.

