Violeta Savytska, a resident of Mariupol, handed over her diary, which she kept during the terrible days in her hometown during the war, to the "Voices of Peace" Museum. The diary was also published in the printed edition of "Nashe Slovo". It is shocking what Violetta had to go through to survive.
Since 1971, I lived in Mariupol. I graduated from school and technical university in this city. My son Nazar was born here, he studied at the same school as me. We lived, studied, worked, and loved our city. I spent 19 days in surrounded Mariupol during the war and managed to survive.
February 24, the first day of the war.
My sister from Volnovakha called at 5:30 AM.
Her first question: "What's happening?".
I answered: "It's raining."
"Don't you know that the Russian Federation has crossed our borders?". This is how the war started for me. I sat down on the bed, feeling completely devastated. What does it mean? What should I do?
The first thing that came to mind was to withdraw money from an ATM and buy groceries. So I did. I stood in line at the ATM for three hours while it was cold and raining. Everyone seemed sad. A new word has appeared: "WAR".
I called Andriy and wrote to Nazar. Andrii is in shock. Nazar scolded me for not leaving earlier...
Volnovakha is being constantly bombed. My uncle suffered a stroke and was taken to the hospital by ambulance. I am worried about what will happen to him next since the situation in Volnovakha is very dangerous (he passed away on March 2). The sound of explosions can be heard in the distance, and it's very scary. I watched the news, and it only made things worse. After that, I went to bed, feeling anxious. It was the first day and night of the war.
February 25, the second day of the war
Shelling began in the villages around Mariupol, which are located in the east: Sartana, Tolokivka, and the Eastern Microdistrict. My sister called from Volnovakha. The fighting has already begun there. She and her family have taken refuge in the basement. They turned off the lights and are sitting by candles. Andriy also called and said that Poland is accepting refugees. This raises the question again: What should we do?
February 26, the third day of the war
You can hear shelling, far away, in the Eastern Microdistrict. My sister has been sitting in the basement all the time, they are constantly being bombed. She called me and said that the tanks were driving through.
I decided to go, quickly gathered my things, including my passport, and convinced my neighbor to drive me to the train station. But it was too late, the trains never left Mariupol…
February 27, the fourth day of the war
Terrible shelling of the East and Left Bank. Residents began to leave to their relatives and acquaintances in the Primorsky District. Shelling is constant - both during the day and at night.
March 1, the fifth day of the war
Today, there was a bombing in the village of Sartanu near Mariupol, resulting in casualties. The residents were relocated to the Primorsky district by the authorities. It is becoming clear to you that this is a real WAR.
March 2, the sixth day of the war
Intense battles are happening in Volnovas, Karan, Tolokivka, and Skhidny. At 5:30 p.m., the lights were turned off, and the authorities were asking people not to turn them back on. I am sitting in the dark and watching the news on TV. I'm already starting to get used to feeling afraid.
March 3, the seventh day of the war
The hostilities began in my district, Primorskyi. Russian troops approached from the west, and we found ourselves under siege, completely blocked. It is not far from my house - maybe 1-1.5 km away. I could hear the sound of heavy artillery (Hrad).
We have become able to differentiate when the Ukrainians are firing from our side and when the Russians are firing at us. We feel happy like children when our guys protect us from the enemy. Although we have grown accustomed to the fear, the instinct of self-preservation has not kicked in yet.
The water supply and electricity have been cut. There are 40 liters of water, some provisions, and a fully charged phone. Let's hold on!
March 4, the eighth day of the war
Very strong fighting on Flotskaya, very close to us - you can hear everything, and from the fifth floor you can see how buildings on the outskirts of the city are burning. You can hear how "Hrads" work.
It was already dark by 5:30 p.m., and there was no light. it's creepy... I sat in the darkness, looked at the candle, and listened to the endless thunder from the "Hrads". I approached the window - flashes from the launch of shells can be seen on Flotskaya. I hear that it is "Hrads" and that three units are working.
It's cold in the apartment, I crawled under the blanket and listened to this endless thunder... Suddenly, I heard a sound that was incomprehensible to me. I jumped closer to the window and saw a plane approaching, followed by an explosion... Then I understood: it was a plane, then the plane dropped a BOMB.
"Hrady" continue to shoot, but already two units... It seems that our boys have become angels... And still... GLORY TO UKRAINE!!!
March 5, the ninth day of the war
The shelling does not end either day or night, if there is silence, then you start waiting for them to shoot again. They fire from the west and from the east. Something is burning endlessly, from the fifth floor you can see how the neighborhood is burning. They destroyed everything along the ring road, civil and industrial facilities, everything was on fire.
She went to the neighbors. Two women and a 10-year-old boy. They are terribly afraid, sitting in the corridor and praying... Another terrible shelling, the whole house is shaking, the windows are shaking... Night is coming, another war night, I am more afraid of it - long darkness and explosions, explosions, explosions…
March 6, the tenth day of the war
The shelling is even more intense, there is no silence, and everything is thundering and explosions, explosions, explosions. Bombs are dropped from an airplane. This plane circles around my city in our blue sky, drops bombs on our heads, and flies to its airfield.
In the evening it turned out that our gas was cut... And again the question is how to survive... There is no electricity, water, gas.
March 7, the eleventh day of the war
This morning was surprisingly quiet, which was unusual but amazing. We joined our neighbors in searching for firewood and ended up finding some boards at a nearby construction site. We know we shouldn't have taken them, but we used them for our bonfire. We cleared out the entrance and our men started a fire, boiled water, and gave drinks to our grandmothers while cooking some food. Unfortunately, I burned my hand and chin while cooking, but I kept going. One of my friends didn't have any groceries, so I shared my food with her. We also set aside some food for the single grandmothers in our group.
What is the situation in the city? It's unclear. There's no communication and no one seems to know anything. Suddenly, a military car appeared in the neighboring yard. We ran up to them, stopped, and found out that Mariupol was still a part of Ukraine. However, the East and Left Banks are no longer there. All the buildings have been destroyed. I can't even begin to imagine the devastation and loss of life. Where are the people? How many people lost their lives?
March 8, the twelfth day of the war
In the morning, the shelling started again and it was very intense. Several houses on a nearby street were destroyed. My friend is very scared and has decided to take shelter in the basement. She made a bed out of wooden boards and covered it with a blanket. It's hard to believe that we now have to live in the basement to stay safe, but survival is our top priority.
Today is Women's Day, March 8, we organized a little buffet with the girls. Some food is still left. They gathered on the second floor of our building, talking about their dreams, wishing courage to our Armed Forces, and trying to smile. However, the shelling did not stop and it became too dangerous to be in the house. They had to go to the basement. The night is still ahead…
March 9, the thirteenth day of the war
The first night in the basement was terrible. It was sheer horror…. Bombed at night, bombed in the morning. "Hrady" and the plane. Shelling is constant, I can't get out of the basement, we can't light a fire. We found something to eat and we sat, bound by fear, the house shook to the foundation, and I endlessly read the prayer, Mother of God, protect us…
Somewhere around 9:00 p.m. - a tremendous explosion, the house shook, and we heard glass falling - I understood that the windows were falling out. SHOCK! There is only one thought in my head - what is there on the outside?
I waited for silence and went outside. Glass had fallen from the wooden frames, but most windows were intact. Thank God, the house survived. We were shelled with "Hrady", the projectile fell 200 meters from the house on the football field and on the opposite end of the house.
We waited for the morning, the day is no different from the night, the only difference is light and dark. Shelling by "Hrads", the plane of the "fraternal nation" flew in about 6-7 times with the "gifts", machine gun rounds...
March 10, the fourteenth day of the war
The shelling continues, and of course, the plane does not forget about us. Today they (Ukranian aid) brought drinking water for us. A lot of people from the nearby yards gathered to get some. The line was huge. However, when we heard the roar of a plane, everyone got scared and ran down the entrances in fear. After a while, the silence prevailed, and the line formed again. People took water and brought it home. Later, they decided to light a fire and cook food.
Shelling again. I measured the distance, it’s 5 steps from the fire to the entrance of our building and 4 steps down the stairs to the basement. We are running here and there, the shelling is endless, our food is burning on the fire... let it burn... Somehow I managed to fry small cakes (Korzhyky), they are covered with soot, overcooked, but hot; there is also some tea left - it feels like a luxurious life…
March 11, the fifteenth day of the war
The morning of the fifteenth day of the war greeted us with a frost of -7, very cold, +7 in the apartment, and a little warmer in the basement. Shelling, shelling, shelling, and then some more cannons joined in. Our neighbor's glass fell out of the window. She found nails and a blanket to cover it. At least something. The plane doesn’t want to leave us. Why do you “love” our unfortunate city so much, it is almost razed to the ground…
March 12, the sixteenth day of the war
Gunshots were heard on the nearby central street and there was a sound of tanks passing by. It is unclear whose tanks they were, and there is no communication. There are rumors that a Russian plane was shot down.
March 13, the seventeenth day of the war
During these days, we learned to distinguish between different weapons based on their sound, I guess you can call it “a war experience”. However, a new weapon has emerged with a distinct and unfamiliar sound. The constant explosions have created an atmosphere of thunder all around us. Our neighbor was watching the news on satellite, powered by a generator, but it did not bring any optimism. As a result, everyone's mood is at an all-time low.
We are currently experiencing shelling in the area causing our house to shake. There is a fire nearby, but we are unable to determine the source of it. As a result, we are unable to leave the basement for safety reasons. Our water supply is running low, so my friend and I have set a limit of three glasses per day. We have limited eggs and potatoes, allowing ourselves one egg and 2-3 potatoes per day. We are doing our best to conserve our resources and keep ourselves safe.
Men from a neighboring house went to the well to fetch some water and were caught under fire, five of them died
I left the basement and went up to my apartment. I sat in the kitchen and read a prayer in front of the icon of the Mother of God. The shelling continued and the house shook violently. There comes a moment when fear no longer matters, when pain and resentment tear you apart, and only one question remains: WHAT FOR? WHY? WHAT’S NEXT?
March 14, the eighteenth day of the war
In the morning, we heard a plane, and bombs were dropped again. I don't know what time it was, but it was already light outside. The shelling subsided a little, so I went out to the entrance to observe the surroundings. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and suddenly, I noticed two planes in the sky. The first one was big, and behind it was a small one. Later, I found out that it was a bomber and a fighter. They appeared from over the sea, circled the city, dropped three bombs, and disappeared over the sea. It all seemed like a scary movie, and I couldn't believe it was happening to me. Why are they killing us?
I got information from a neighbor that on the 8th floor of a 9-story building nearby, you can get a phone signal. My relatives have not heard from me since March 2nd and I have to tell them as soon as possible. We should go to that building immediately. I went with my neighbor and discovered that there is Internet and “Viber” (a messenger) works. I quickly sent a message to Andrii and Nazar with just three words: "Hello, I'm alive." Maryna and I were so happy because we managed to get in touch with them and we're alive!
March 15, the nineteenth day of the war
The night was a complete horror. We sat together, trembling in our house. In the morning, when my friend went out to the entrance, she met her neighbor Dmytro. He had received information from her daughter in Dnipro that they had been given a "green corridor". There was no reliable information, no communication, and no police presence.
We decided to leave the city as God willed it. Dmytro, Maryna, my grandmother, and I got into two cars with a friend. We started to leave the city, but there was a huge traffic jam, and we stood there for almost two hours. Finally, we arrived about half a kilometer away, but we could still hear shelling.
We decided to take another route to try to get out of the city. We left the highway and took the direction to Mangush, as indicated in the "green corridor" route.
In the evening, we had to spend the night in a seaside village. The next morning, we continued our “journey” and headed towards Berdyansk via the highway. At the edge of Mangush, there was always a traffic police post. It was at this post that I first noticed the flags of the so-called “DNR” and the Russian Federation. I found them disgusting and ugly. How dare they? It used to be our traffic police post and it is our land, but not our flags anymore.
We drove through the occupied territory, and after praying again, we noticed that everything inside us shrank. Our destination was Vasylivka, where the Armed Forces of Ukraine were stationed.
It was a journey of 196 km filled with fear and terror, but we had to make it there. We drove through roadblocks and reviews, and were asked questions like "Who are you? Where are you going?" We finally reached Vasylivka but had to drive through a small village where the bridge was blown up. We saw a silhouette of a military man and realized it was a Ukrainian flag. We were happy to see a chevron with a Ukrainian flag, which meant that it belonged to us, the Armed Forces of Ukraine. Tears of happiness we couldn’t believe it.
We continued towards Zaporizhzhia, and the traffic was moderate with many cars on the road. We only had 15 km left to Zaporizhzhia, but we heard guns in the distance, which made us feel uneasy. Suddenly, an explosion occurred to the left of us, followed by another explosion to the right, causing panic in the column. Some cars, including ours, drove at a speed of 100 km per hour to Zaporizhzhia, while others drove to the edge of the asphalt.
We witnessed a car damaged by shrapnel. There were injured people, including a ten-year-old boy who was covered in blood. We were driving fast along the edge of the highway and only had one wish - to reach Zaporizhzhia as soon as possible, guards let cars into the city without checking.
ZAPORIZHZHIA
WE ARE ALIVE.
We are very grateful to volunteer Alona Shliakhova for the translation