“This is war,” said Anne Grosvold, host of Dagsnytt 18. She referred to a report from the Red Cross on the situation in the Donbas in the summer of 2014. I was standing there in the center of Donetsk, on a bad phone line, to give another report on the plane crash that had happened a few miles away. Pro-Russian separatists drove up and down the main street in large tanks. They smiled and waved to news’s ​​photographer Ketil Kern. They seemed remarkably confident. But “war”? Yes, of course it was war. CHECK: Civilian and military guards check vehicles on their way to Donetsk city. Just days after MH17 was shot down, there were new clashes between the separatists and the Ukrainian army in the city. Photo: Joakim Reigstad / news Of course there is war when the checkpoints are close. Of course there is war when you wake up to the sound of tanks in the street, or bomb blasts right nearby. Of course, there is war when someone shoots down a passenger plane and kills 298 civilians who are going on vacation. The war in the Donbas began in the wake of the Euromaidan and in the shadow of the annexation of Crimea, which received far greater international attention in the spring of 2014. ‘Pro-Russian separatists took control of a number of government buildings in the Donbas. The Ukrainian army responded with a powerful military offensive. EUROMAIDAN: The wars in the Donbas are often referred to as a direct consequence of the Euromaidan. The revolution that was to orient Ukraine in a more western direction. Photo: Stig Jaarvik / news There were tough fights in cities like Slovjansk, Kramatorsk and Mariupol. Over the summer, the Ukrainian army managed to retake more and more cities and territories. But it was still war. A war the whole world got right into the living rooms on a dull summer day eight years ago. It was so absurd that we at the Dagsrevy desk hardly believed the first messages. A passenger plane on its way from Amsterdam to Kuala Lumpur had disappeared over Ukraine. But when the first pictures ticked in from the news agencies, the seriousness dawned on us. Within minutes, the war in the Donbas had claimed nearly three hundred completely innocent civilian victims. GUARDIAN: What is probably a pro-Russian soldier is guarding the wreckage. Photo: MAXIM ZMEYEV / Reuters Photographer Kern and I traveled to Kyiv on the first possible flight. At that time, the capital was about to come to life after a dramatic winter and spring, which had peaked with the revolution, known as the Euromaidan. The pro-Russian president Viktor Yanukovych was ousted from power. Chocolate baron Petro Poroshenko had won a landslide victory in the presidential election the month before. Among other things, with promises to work to get Ukraine into NATO. THE TRAIN STATION: The trip to Donetsk involved over 100 kilos of luggage. Then it was good to get some support at the station in Kyiv. Photo: Ketil Kern / news From a balcony at Hotel Ukraina, the hotel that sits on a hill above Majdan Nezalezjnosti – Independence Square in the center of the capital Kyiv. and which is popular with most TV channels due to the incredible views we gave the first reports. But it was only when we arrived at the scene of the plane crash that it was possible to understand the seriousness. CONTROL: This building housed local authorities in Donetsk Oblast until pro-Russian separatists took control of the building. Here we were registered and got permission to travel to the scene (Swipe and see a slightly strange consequence of giving them the news e-mail) GREETING: For many years afterwards I received the Christmas greeting from the pro-Russian separatists. At the place where the plane had crashed, a fourteen hour train ride and a couple of hours by car past a number of checkpoints, we arrived at what must be one of the closest you get to hell on earth. At the roadside there were rows upon rows of body bags. In the charred wreckage lay those that had not yet been retrieved. Body parts, luggage, clothes, books and sunglasses. There is still smoke from the wreckage. “We have to be careful where we go, so we do not step on any corpses,” I said to the photographer, but it was just as much to myself. The first report from the scene of the plane crash I remember this sight as if it were yesterday. It got so close. There was the clear evidence that many of those on board the plane did not seek any danger. They might have just finished the first round of serving on board. While flipping through their guidebook a bit, or playing cards to get the hours going, they were killed. We could not stay that long. There was a rumor among the drivers that they had driven the various media out to the scene. Pro-Russian forces were on their way. It was uncertain. Put on the bulletproof vest and helmet and get in the car. On the way out, it struck me how poorly secured the area was. TAIL ROD: Photographer Ketil Kern films the tail rudder that lay in the field after the plane crashed Photo: Joakim Reigstad / news It was only a couple of years since I had covered the Kebnekaise accident in northern Sweden where five soldiers lost their lives when a Hercules crashed into the mountainside. There, the crime scene was closed and treated with respect. Here lay 298 destinies scattered over a field. It took many days before the dead were taken care of and allowed to return to their families. There were stories that soldiers had looted the victims for valuables in the hours after the plane crashed. TRAVEL GUIDE: The image of a travel guide to Bali became an iconic symbol of how totally innocent the victims were. Photo: Joakim Reigstad / news I have thought a lot about this in retrospect. Although no one has admitted guilt, the Dutch investigation has established that the plane was shot down by a 9M38 Buk missile from the rebel-held areas of Donetsk. Most arrows point in the direction of pro-Russian separatists behind the shooting. Eight years later, I am back in Donetsk Oblast with my colleague Gunnar Bratthammer. We have lived near the front line. ON THE FRONT: Directly in Dagsrevyen from the bombed-out apartment block in Tsjasiv Jar together with photographer Gunnar Bratthammer. Photo: Anzor Domuzashvili / news We have heard the bombs fall over the cities. Heard the fighter jets fly low over our heads. This is something completely different than in 2014. And when we meet people, this is something completely different than it has been in the eight years since the war started. In a few days, Russian soldiers may try a new offensive. It can be very bloody. Because even though mayors and governors are urging people to evacuate, there is plenty of space on the buses out of the Donbas to other cities in Ukraine that are considered safe. Shops and restaurants are mostly open. At least until the curfew occurs at 22 o’clock in the evening. Those who remain have different reasons for it. Some will not be intimidated. Others trust that the soldiers can defend them against the Russians. But they are also here who do not fear Russian occupation. Those who have lost faith in their homeland. Which has strong ties to Russia. MEETING: Volodymyr Parasyuk is one of the soldiers who has fought at the front line. He believes in a united Ukraine. Photo: Gunnar Bratthammer / news It makes the contrast so infinitely great when you meet soldiers who are fighting for a united Ukraine on the same day as you meet people who are really just waiting to be occupied. But perhaps they are most afraid that the war will end as the European Championship semi-final at Donbas Arena in 2014. A goalless position war that must finally be decided on a penalty kick. But there is a big difference. This is war. This is real war. Which every day takes life. Scratch the whole pictureIn 2012, there was a football party in Donetsk. Ten years later, it is war and bombs that characterize everyday life.
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Donetsk in the last ten years has gone from football party to despair – news Urix – Foreign news and documentaries
