Surviving winter in a decimated Ukrainian village

IZIUM, Ukraine – Winter in Ukraine’s eastern steppe brings an inescapable cold. The wind blowing through damaged homes, the shattered windows, the chill in your bones – it feels as if it will be permanent.

But winter is still weeks away. For a handful of families who live in a string of destroyed villages along what was once the front line near the city of Izium, these dwindling autumn days are all the time they have to prepare for seasonal survival.

The villages Topolske, Mala Komyshuvakha, Brazhkivka and Sulyhivka were ravaged by relentless artillery barrages and air strikes after Russia launched its full-scale invasion in early 2022.

Families who have returned after Ukraine’s liberation of these enclaves lack basic amenities such as electricity, gas and running water. So they prepare for the long cold by gathering essential supplies: food, water and firewood.

On a cold November day, Mr Victor Kaliberda, one of the four residents of Sulyhivka, trudged towards the pickup point for firewood in neighbouring Brazhkivka. With no car, he hoped that one of his neighbours would help him move the aid that is provided by volunteers.

Firewood is essential to survive the winter months, but with forests still littered with landmines, gathering the vital material can be deadly. Growing and storing food is also critical.

A few minutes’ drive away, in the village of Mala Komyshuvakha, it is Mr Oleksandr Kokovych’s 58th birthday. His wife, Ms Halyna Lievleva, has prepared duck, potatoes and salad.

They endured last winter with a generator, but it has since broken. Their day ends at sunset – which comes increasingly earlier now. They heat water for tea and their meals on their gas stove.

What lies ahead for these residents is a complicated puzzle of resource management, perseverance and faith that will get them through the coming days and freezing nights.

For now, they are on their own. Everything, it seems, needs repair. The ground underneath power lines must be cleared of mines before they are restrung. Gas pipes require mending. Damaged roofs and windows are in dire need of tarpaulin, plastic and tin sheets.

The destruction of these villages is generational. They were cleaved apart during World War II, when Nazi and Soviet front lines surged over them, hugging the same terrain used by Russian and Ukrainian forces in 2022.

Residents here use the earlier war as a barometer of their current sacrifices. Stories passed down from yesteryear are now lessons of survival.

In Sulyhivka, Mr Kaliberda and his friend Zhenia live a short walk from each other, past destroyed farm equipment plastered with Russian graffiti and homes overgrown by vegetation. To earn money, they sell the scrap metal that now litters their village. To pass time, they drink.

As the days grow shorter, warmth is more elusive, and the sounds of scurrying mice make sleep difficult.

Even the cats require warmth and care. They serve as the first line of defence against a rampant mouse population that has overrun the villages at a level not seen since World War II.

“People have lived here for 80 years and have not seen mice like this,” said Mr Vitalii, a local resident helping to split firewood in the village of Topolske.

For the villages’ older residents, many tasks require help from those who have returned, or those who stayed behind during the Russian occupation.

Neighbours help one another with foraging, firewood and shepherding animals; they trade tactics on how to combat mouse infestations.

“On this street, we weathered through occupation like a family,” said resident Liuba Nilabovych, 66, one of the few living in Topolske.

Mr Vitalii, with his motorbike and sidecar, is vital in Topolske at this time of year. He and his friends are handymen for hire. They buzz up and down village roads, slinging wood and chainsaws, overshadowed by the war’s destruction and an approaching winter chill.

NYTIMES