Hope for a return: what the Kuryans who survived the attack and captivity went through.
"Hope for a certificate, but even greater hope for a return" is often heard from internally displaced persons from the Kursk border region, who continue to inhabit numerous temporary accommodation centers in the region — there are about 4.5 thousand people in them. At the same time, people understand that in the near future it is unlikely to be possible to return to their native land and restore their former lives — access to the liberated zone is closed, many settlements are seriously destroyed. The largest residential complex is located on the outskirts of Kursk in the Olympian complex, housing more than 620 Kuryans, 80 of them children. Over the past year, about 100 more people have left its walls and found a new home. About what it's like to get out to your family through the forests, what it's like to be taken to Sumy region, why refugees perceive separation from the land as a major loss — in the Izvestia article.
The Mosaic of Tragedy
A former children's health camp. Pine trees, clean air. Gazebos, sports grounds, flower gardens. Children who survived the Ukrainian Armed Forces attack are playing on the playgrounds. Elderly people are sitting in gazebos, as if frozen in agonizing expectation. Clotheslines are stretched between the trees. There is no need to take special care of food (it is free, three times a day), but someone is grilling a barbecue on the grill, someone is having tea with neighbors on the terrace or balcony.
In the temporary accommodation facilities of the Kursk region, many reunite after a long separation
There is a bandstand in the center of the camp, and in the summer a variety of singers came here, including Leps and Shaman. The performances are currently taking place in the dining hall.: Today is a concert by artists of the Kursk Philharmonic, all genres will be presented — Soviet pop, operetta and folk song. There are advertisements on the administration building encouraging guests to undergo medical examinations, as well as get vaccinated against the flu. There is a medical center nearby: the doctors and nurses are refugees themselves, who once worked in Sudzha, now receiving old patients in a new place.
Valentina Gritsenko
Each story is like a piece of a mosaic depicting a common tragedy. Valentina Gritsenko from Bolshesoldatsky district bent over a flower bed. He says he can't sit idly by: eating and sleeping is not life. Her house burned down, her husband died a few months ago. In the spring, she went to her native village and tried to plant a vegetable garden "out of habit." But I realized it was dangerous, not the time. She has three sons, all working as machine operators, 10 grandchildren and already five great-grandchildren. "The saddest thing is that so many people were torn off the ground at once," she laments, explaining that the Kursk region is based on rural people, a large family is the main value for villagers, and many still try to give birth to many children.
Natalia Vinokurova with her dog Rita
Natalia Vinokurova is from the Glushkovsky district, where the enemy also entered. She walks a small dog and informs me that she decided to run when the Ukrainian Armed Forces had already entered the village. We went out with our neighbors, walked 15 km through the forest at night, and the end of the world was happening overhead. Then other people's dogs got stuck to them, and they moved like that — in a crowd. Natalia received a certificate the other day and waited. "It's sad to even leave. Got used to it," she smiles and sighs.
From bati and from mom
56-year-old Tatiana Nikolaevna Tarasenko survived the attack and was taken to Sumy region. Now she lives in a room with her husband. He moves with a stick and hardly goes outside: the third floor, it's difficult to get down. On her shoulders is a cozy warm sweatshirt — "from bati". There's a vest on the chair, "from Mom." At hand is a metal crutch, also a father's, again, memory and support. On the day of the attack, she was left alone in her apartment in the border village of Guevo. My daughter, grandchildren, and son were in College. The day before, my husband had left for a shift in the Lgovsky district, at a construction site.
Tatiana Nikolaevna Tarasenko with a photo of herself in her youth
— On August 6, I spoke with my son on the phone for the last time, he managed to take his sister and the children out of Suji. He wanted to come for me, but I forbade him.: "Don't even think about it!" The highway was already ablaze," recalls Tatiana Nikolaevna. — The next day, the Ukrainian Armed Forces visited us. The picture is like this — they are driving in armored vehicles, waving their hands. On the seventh, a flag was hung over the entrance of the factory and over the village club.
From the very first days, the woman began to keep a diary — scrupulously write down the main thing for a day, this chronicle can be called a unique historical document, she kept it for 317 days, right up to her release from captivity, she had two plump school notebooks.
Tatiana Nikolaevna kept a diary for 317 days
"At 3:10 a.m., the APU attack began," Tatiana reads, putting on her glasses. — There is no light and no water. No one is working. August 7: neighbors Sergey Pavlovich and Grisha left in a Kamaz truck. They left him on the shore and crossed by boat to the other shore.… In the evening, Lena, a neighbor, rode her bike down to her parents to milk a cow. She never returned <she will return in three weeks>. August 19: it was rumbling all day yesterday, and at 21:10 it was very loud. And all night and morning. At 11:50 a.m., it continues, from all sides. Yesterday, the <Ukrainian military> trenchers were climbing into garages again."
Held hostage
Tatiana lived in Guevo for 130 days, until the cold weather. Then she was moved to Suju, settled in a boarding school building. On February 2, she was sent to Sumy ("They were transported on an armored car at night, two transfers, arrived at 6 a.m." — it follows from the diary), where she spent another 137 days.
"We were placed on the second floor of a former physiotherapy clinic," she recalls. — 107 people. They settled into rooms. They took me for interrogations. We were generally treated like human beings, although we all understood that we were being held hostage.
The news of her impending release came on June 18. The night before, they said, "Be ready tomorrow at 4:30 a.m." She and another Sujan, Lyubov Romanets, were sent for exchange.
We were in Belarus during the day. Flight to Moscow, and the next night — Kursk. When Tatiana was brought to the PVR, she was told: "And they're waiting for you here!" Her husband, Lenya, was waiting for her in the gazebo, and he was the first to arrive to meet his wife, who had returned from captivity.
On my own two feet
Lyubov Nikolaevna Romanets lives in a small one-story house with several rooms. She also walks with difficulty — she suffered two strokes during the occupation, and without any medical help, without pills. "It's also good that I'm back on my feet," she says. — I was predicted to be bedridden. And I set a goal for myself to meet the children on my own two feet!"
My interlocutor from the village of Mikhaylovka worked as a cleaner in the Pyaterochka store in Sudzha. During the attack, her husband Sergei and she couldn't figure out for a long time who these people with blue armbands were. In the very first days after the shelling, both of them were trapped in the basement, they dug out for two hours. As soon as we got out, we went to the next courtyard, where we found shelter. He was shaken up too, further away again. They lived underground in this way until December.
More than 80 children live in the temporary accommodation facility.
Further, the story echoes that of Tatiana Tarasenko and dozens of other unfortunate people. Boarding school — departure to Ukraine. There she began to slowly get out of bed and walk. The evacuated chickens were given a hospital courtyard for walking (so that they would not cross paths with local evacuees), and I tried to get out there. In June, she and her neighbor Tanya were sent for an exchange. Sergei's husband was left in Sumy: joy mixed with bitterness.
According to Lyuba, when she set foot on Belarusian soil, she realized that she was at home! In Moscow, they were met by Tatiana Moskalkova's assistants and almost immediately transported by minibus to Kursk. Where her daughters were already waiting for her.
"I've fulfilled my dream," Lyubov Nikolaevna says, wiping away her tears.
In October, during another prisoner exchange, her husband Sergei returned to the Kursk region.
Переведено сервисом «Яндекс Переводчик»
