Stories that you confided to us

{( row.text )}
{( row.tag )}

Stories that you confided to us

Go to all stories
views: 1168
Anna Sergeevna Voloshina
Diary of War: "I have never seen such huge children's eyes, full of horror, pain, and fear"

The year (2014) began with some strange and disturbing events. There was a solid negative feeling in the air. And it was not at all clear where the human mood would lead. What would happen next, how it would be? It was alarming and not clear, but we would live.

Events developed at incredible speed. Somewhere they shot, someone was killed. Some checkpoints were formed. Incomprehensible checks, strange questions.

June 2014

The plane is a very beautiful bird in the sky. You can watch the graceful flight for a long time. Huge wings glitter beautifully in the warm sunlight, it seems that this bird brings only positive appraisals about its greatness. It turned out that a beautiful bird can be vicious, scary, destructive.

Diary of War:

The crazy buzz of an airplane came out of nowhere. The trees bent down, people crouched down in surprise, and even the animals behaved in a strange way - at first they barked loudly, then hid themselves and did not climb out of the booth for a long time. But this dread was still far away from us, and at a distance, as you know, genuine sensations are not perceived like that.


We live in the media vacuum. Either they lie, or they say the truth - it's hard to figure out. You understand it with your mind; you feel it with your heart: this should not be like this. But your ears hear something completely different.

We were gathering humanitarian aid to send to Slavyansk. Some people brought things, others brought food - we packed and sent everything.

We send it however can: if they have a car - by car, if they go by taxi - that means by taxi. I am very glad that people do not remain indifferent, so we shell live.


Terrible news - the first refugees have appeared. I have never seen such huge children's eyes, full of horror, pain, and fear. How to tell this kid why he was left without a home. Why did the toys stay at home, but he is in another house and how long they will be with someone else's aunt.

Emotions are overflowing - words are not enough. You don’t fully realize and you cannot, and you don’t even want to believe that war has come to our house, or ATO - whatever you name it, all the same there are tears, grief, and trouble.


Someway you do not notice the flow of days, very fleeting, very difficult, alarming and the thought is constantly present: “How could this happen to us? What did we do wrong? Were we born in the wrong place? Were baptized in the wrong way?"


This terrible word "war" has been revealed to us in its full terrible form. There was shooting at Debaltsevo. People were given a "green corridor". It is impossible to remember these horrors without tears and persistent feeling of “pins and needles”.

People who had some kind of transport got into it and escaped from the city, taking their documents with them, leaving their houses, apartments where they lived.

Diary of War:

Many people got to the highway and moved in a huge column towards Svetlodarsk and the village of Mironovsky. All taxi drivers and people with vehicles drove out to meet this column. They put several people into their cars and drove them to Mironovsky, dropping people off in the market area, and already there Mironovsky residents took people to their homes or advised where to stay.

Until late in the evening, cars were running, transporting people from the zone where everything ceased to exist.

One young taxi driver put in his car much more people than there were seats and took a little girl in his arms, who, hugging him by the neck, repeated all the way: “Thank you for taking us, now we are not afraid, my brother, and mom, and me. "

Small children somehow came to be adults at once. They were not capricious, did not cry, did not ask for anything. They silently hugged their favorite toys, which they had time to grab with them. But, perhaps, this was not just a favorite toy, it was a childhood memory of a once peaceful home, hometown, favorite kindergarten, school.

Diary of War:

There was some fear and a dumb question in children's eyes, from which the heart breaks: for what wrongdoing? why? It is very difficult to live with this, it is impossible to explain, and even harder to accept. Children's laughter always brings joy, and children's tears - an irresistible desire to help the child, protect him, save him from adversity. I'd like to ask: "Dear rulers-leaders, do you have any children? !!"

Autumn 2014

Somehow the summer quietly went away. The foliage on the trees changed their outfit. The nights grew cooler, the days grew shorter. It felt like autumn. But with the arrival of autumn, the ATO operation did not go anywhere.

The atmosphere was downright depressing. You did not know what to expect, how to be and what to do in general, what to do in order to distract yourself from thoughts that did not allow you to sleep, eat, or live.

You could endlessly write about your views, thoughts, feelings, but there were people who felt very bad, and they needed help. This life-saving aid was the project of Rinat Leonidovich Akhmetov “Here to Help”.

In our village of Mironovsky, the " Here to Help" headquarters began its operations in November 2014. They made lists, allocated people into categories, unloaded vehicles with humanitarian aid and worked, worked, worked ...

In the beginning it was difficult, but the team was sociable and responsible. And if there are people who help others, sparing no effort nor time for this, then we will live on, no matter what!

2014 is coming to an end. I really want it to take away all the bad things that happened.

January 2015

Somehow the holiday on the New Year didn’t feel like a holiday. Everything seemed to be right: the tree, garlands, the smell of tangerines, cheerful lights on the tree and the windows, our favorite salad "Olivier" ... But when shells were bursting not very far from our house, somehow we didn’t feel like having fun.

And there was still a birthday ahead, I didn’t even know what to do. We always sang, danced, had fun with all the heart, and now, probably, we would sit with our children in a close circle, sing songs with a guitar, remember how the holidays went and, of course, we would live.

Diary of War:

January 22, 2015

So the war has come to our village. A war about which we could not only hear, but also see its monstrous face.

In the morning, when it was even less than 7 o'clock, there were such explosions that the windows and doors were opened. Several explosions in a row - and a brief lull. On our street seven houses were damaged at once. A young man was wounded (a shrapnel hit his eye) and his little daughter. Ambulance - screams - crying - panic.

Explosions, explosions, and explosions again.

The "basement life" began. There was no light, no gas, no water, and it’s only the absence of frost that saved people, and of course, ingenuity. They put a potbelly stove in the basement, brought firewood, coal, water. It would be warm, there would be hot tea, a kind attitude towards each other and we would live in spite of all the enemies who came to our house with the war.

2015 year

Shelling, arrivals, explosions. We learned to determine which weapon is shooting by its sound. Many people began to prepare for their departure. They left to visit relatives, acquaintances, friends, somewhere far away from this incomprehensible, stupid, unnecessary war.

2015 year

Thus, day after day, in the basement or in the house, we learned to live by the rules written by the war. Most of all I want to forget about it, like a bad dream. Is it a dream or reality? But the life goes on.

We were still providing assistance to the population, distributing packages with humanitarian aid. People were very happy and grateful. Humanitarian aid helped people who have not left, stayed in the village and were trying to stay afloat, no matter how hard it was, to survive.

2015 year

It is true that a person gets used to everything. So we, who are in the ATO zone, are used to it. We got used to shelling, checkpoints, and checks. It's humiliating, insulting, but I really want to believe that this is temporary. When they don't shoot, we want to live and we shell live.

2015 is coming to its end. Let's hope for the best and believe that everything would be fine.


There are no changes. The war is still going on. People are still dying. They are suffering, mothers are crying. If you succeed not to hear explosions and sleep in silence, that's very good. Even a slight lull gives strength, and you understand: you have to live on and you can't give up.

Diary of War:

You have to do something, make something. While sitting in the basement, I learned to weave all sorts of beautiful things from newspaper tubes. It’s a calming activity. But most of the time is occupied by the Humanitarian Center - to assemble lists, find out more about the affected people and provide them with assistance as much as possible. A great help to our village was provided by the Humanitarian Center "Here to help".

Thus, day after day, month after month, time passes. Sometimes I think that everything is fine - the birds are still singing, the trees are blooming ... But suddenly the silence is disturbed by a loud explosion - and that's it, I find myself in true reality, that is ATO.

August 16, 2016

The quiet early summer morning was not so quiet. A shell hitting the house. Shards were scattered. Six houses were damaged. The degree of destruction was very different, roofs, windows, facades.

October 2016

Somehow I have not opened the diary for a long time. Everything repeats itself with enviable constancy: there was shelling, it didn’t let us sleep, but we didn't run to the basement. We got used to everything, even the way they shoot. It sounds very blasphemous, but it is.

2017 year

Here is another alarming New Year. The year is new, but the events are old. Nothing positive occurs. I really want this unnecessary war to end. Until now, it seems that this is not happening to us. Well, we could not live to see this. This is some sort of evil fate.

More and more people are returning to the village. There are schools and a kindergarten. All kinds of entertainment events are there.

We still get humanitarian aid from the “Here to Help” Foundation. I'd like to express my deep and sincere gratitude to all the people who work in this Foundation.

Special human gratitude to Rinat Leonidovich Akhmetov for his kind attitude towards people, for such necessary and timely help. It was this help that helped so many people to survive in such a difficult time.

Help us out. Share this story
Join the Project
Every story is unique. Share your story
Tell a story
Go to all stories