Before the Russian invasion, Bila Tserkva was a suburban town ideally located for people working in Kiev. From now on, this commune of 200,000 inhabitants has above all the sad privilege of being on the route of the missiles sent by Russia to the Ukrainian capital from the Black Sea.
For the second time in less than an hour, the warning sirens sounded in this city located about 75 km south-west of Kiev. “This is a warning: turn off the gas and electricity, take your first aid kit, supplies and water and take refuge in the nearest shelter”, says a small voice in Ukrainian from the top speakers from a supermarket.
“The shelves are empty, they are bombing, the missiles are falling from the sky,” grumbled Yulia Ivashchuk, a mother of two, as she left the store empty-handed. “There is no more lactose-free milk for my youngest. What else can happen? I’m not sure I want to know,” sighs this 45-year-old woman.
Fired from the Black Sea, some missiles have slammed into the city’s airfield and factories since Russia’s assault on Ukraine began on February 24. A housing estate of opulent new houses being built near the Ros River, a tributary of the Dnieper River, was also pulverized over the weekend.
No one here understands why this happened or why Russia invaded Ukraine. “Putin has gone crazy and is splurging,” says Serguiï Zabojny, another supermarket customer. “He behaves like a lunatic, and people are afraid that he presses the nuclear button”, adds this entrepreneur of 63 years.
Kiev and its three million inhabitants are cut off from the rest of the country on three flanks: fighting rages in its northern and western suburbs, and the roads to the east are blocked by Russian tanks and fields of mines.
Loophole
The south therefore represents the only escape route as well as the only supply route for food and fuel.
In Bila Tserkva, it was now feared that the Russian tanks brought up on the western flank would quickly swoop down on the town. “Everyone is worried. We hear the sirens several times a day, ”says Andriï Zalezniak.
“They have already touched us a dozen times. It’s hard to count all the explosions. It feels like all the days are merging into one,” the 39-year-old carpenter continues, while helping clear the rubble of one of the three houses destroyed by the weekend attack.
In the sky, Russian fighter planes are regularly heard. In the street, people show each other the images of cruise missiles flying towards Kiev, only a few hundred meters above the ground, which they filmed with their phones.
According to Andriï Zalezniak, the family of six who lived in one of these houses were lucky not to be there the night of the airstrike. “They could have all been killed,” breathes Bodgan Remmeny, amid the charred remains of the house’s garden shed.
Today, Bila Tserkva now looks like a city about to go to war. In its main supermarket, which is still relatively well stocked, the dairy section is empty and the alcohol section is closed.
Alcohol sales were indeed banned across the country when the government decided to authorize, in the first days of the war, every citizen to take up arms, to form a new army of volunteers. Queues lengthen along grocery stores and bank branches.
Unlike Kiev, Bila Tserkva is not lined with checkpoints with their stacked sandbags and men armed with assault rifles directing traffic at intersections. At this point, it’s neither peace nor really war: as in Kiev before the Russians seized its western suburbs, some inhabitants show optimism and bravado.
“If the Russians come this far, they won’t go any further,” says student Bogdan Martynenko, while smoking with friends in a parking lot. “We have territorial defense units, our police, our men. We all know each other, they won’t dare,” he said, smiling.