The Press in Ukraine | Leave everything behind, even the men

(Krakovets) On day 15 of the war, they decided to leave.

photos: Martin Tremblay
The Press

Hastily, they took away what was most precious to them. Not much ; their whole life now fits in a suitcase. Without looking back, they headed west, ready to plunge into the void.

Finally…ready…

Who can be ready for this?

They simply had no choice.

The journey to the Krakovets border, which leads into Poland, was long and perilous. Mikola, his wife Irina and their children, Lev, 9, and Rima, 8, came from Irpin, the northwestern suburb of Kyiv shelled by the Russian army. Over the days, their building was emptied of its tenants. The sound of boots has become deafening. It was go or die.

They chose to survive.

They only have a brief moment left on Ukrainian soil. The wind is freezing. The children warm themselves around the fire which burns in a metal barrel, a few meters from the border post.

Wrapped in a pale pink coat, Irina holds back her tears. Already, she dreams of returning.

She suspects that she will only find ruins.

Very quickly, the hour of departure rang. Irina and the children rush into a bus, on their way to Poland. They lose everything. A country. A house.

And Mikola, who stays behind.

We entered Ukraine on Wednesday through another border post, that of Medyka, a little further south. Although the photographer Martin Tremblay and I had expected the worst, the crossing overwhelmed us.

A Polish taxi driver had left us as close as possible to the border, which we had to cross on foot, dragging our suitcases, our helmets and our bulletproof vests. We first passed a handful of women pushing children in shopping carts. Then others.

Soon there were hundreds of them. And then thousands. An uninterrupted stream of refugees, ever bigger, ever more impressive. A flood of haggard and tired faces. Lost and broken.

We made our way against the tide through the crowd. Volunteers had pitched their tents along the paved road that winds up to the border post. Some were warming up soup, others were grilling sausages.

On the Ukrainian side, the line still stretched for hundreds of meters. In two weeks, 2.5 million Ukrainians fled the country. Women, teenagers, children. Many, many children. And cats. And dogs.

But almost no men.

The men stay to defend the homeland.

They stay. Like Andreii Krisa, met at the Krakovets border post. He enlisted to guard one of the countless roadblocks erected on the roads of Ukraine.

This morning, his wife Oksana is taking a one-way ticket to Poland. Without him.

They stay. Like Oleg Denk, who will return to Kyiv to fight. “It’s more terrifying to watch the news on TV without doing anything,” he says. On site, we have a rush of adrenaline; we are less afraid. »

They stay. Like Oleksandr Georgiev. He bids farewell to Lilya, his wife, and to Daniel, their 8-month-old baby, “long-awaited”, he confides with a sad smile.

He will return to Kyiv, too. Despite the vice that is tightening around the capital. Despite the apprehended massacre. He will return there despite all that – or rather because of all that. “Because it’s the right thing to do. »

They stay. Like Volodymyr Zelensky, the president who challenges powerful Russia, at the risk of paying with his life. “We will continue to fight for our land, no matter what, in the forests, in the fields, on the shores and in the streets,” he said in a Churchillian-tinged speech on Tuesday.

They stay. Because Ukraine is full of heroes.

Because it’s the right thing to do.

But also… because they are forced to.

Daniel Vergeles wants to leave. Desperately.

He missed his chance.

Daniel Vergeles wants to leave, but he has no right. Martial law, declared on February 24, prohibits all men between the ages of 18 and 60 from leaving the country.

“Now is the time for every Ukrainian to protect his home by taking up arms. Not just to help our soldiers, but to rid Ukraine of the enemy, once and for all,” the interior minister said on February 24.

Ukraine has 200,000 soldiers and 300,000 reservists. This is little compared to the 900,000 soldiers and two million reservists of the Russian army. Hence the idea of ​​mobilizing all the men of Ukraine.

So far, no civilians have been forced to fight – only to stay home. But everyone fears that conscription is the next step in this dirty war that is getting worse and bogged down.

On Wednesday, the United Nations called on Ukraine to take a “humane” and “compassionate” approach to men trying to flee war.

The vast majority of those I met at the Krakovets border crossing told me that they were determined to stay in the country, come what may.

But men are defying martial law. They use irregular crossing points to flee their own country. Clandestine networks are organized.

They find it unfair that they are forced to stay in a land of fire and bloodshed. Unfair and… sexist. “Because I have a penis, I can’t leave,” Tyrhan lamented in a recent interview with the New York Times.

Tyrhan earns his living by making cartoons. He never held a gun in his life. Not even as a toy, child; he preferred stuffed animals. Terrified, the young man waited for seven hours at the border, hoping to flee to Poland.

Among the crowd, people looked askance at him. The tension mounted. What was this man doing in his prime among the refugees? He pretended to ignore them, even when they started shouting over his head, “Shame! Shame ! Shame ! »

At the border post, they forced him to turn back.

Mikola will not return to Irpin. He’s not suicidal.

In his previous life, he worked on construction sites. He never served in the army. He has no idea what he could do to contribute to the war effort.

For the moment, he has no head for that.

For days, only one thing occupied his thoughts: getting his family to safety. It is done. He has no other plan. He doesn’t know what to do or where to go.

At the border post, he watches the bus depart for Poland, his wife and children on board. Without knowing when he will see them again or if he will live to see them again.