Mariupol survivors: “The city no longer exists”

LVIV, Ukraine (AP) — The heat inside the train car was as overwhelming as anxiety. The Ukrainian survivors of one of the most brutal sieges in modern history were in the final minutes of their journey to relative safety.

Some were carrying with them only what was at hand when they seized the opportunity to escape from the port of Mariupol in the midst of a relentless Russian bombardment. Some fled at such a speed that their relatives who are still hungry in the icy city on the shores of the Sea of Azov are not even aware that they have left.

“The city doesn't exist anymore,” Marina Galla said. He was crying outside the door of a crowded train compartment that was entering the city of Lviv, in western Ukraine.

The relief of taking off weeks of threats and shortages, of seeing corpses lying on the streets and of drinking melted snow in the face of lack of water was overcome by sadness at the thought of the relatives he left behind.

“I don't know anything about them,” he said. “My mother, my grandmother, my grandfather and my father. They don't even know we left.”

Seeing her cry, her 13-year-old son kissed her again and again, offering her some comfort.

According to the Mariupol authorities, almost 10% of the city's 430,000 inhabitants have escaped in the last week, risking their lives in the caravans that leave.

The memories are still very vivid in Galla's mind.

For three weeks, she and her son lived in the basement of the Mariupol Palace of Culture to shelter themselves from the constant Russian bombings, making the decision to stay underground after the horizon was darkened by smoke.

“We had no water, no electricity, no gas, and we were completely incommunicado,” he said. They cooked meals outdoors with firewood in the courtyard, even during times of attack.

And after finally escaping from Mariupol with the aim of taking a train to safety in the west, Russian soldiers at the checkpoints made a terrifying suggestion to them: It would be better if they left for the Russian-occupied city of Melitopol or to the Russian-annexed Crimean peninsula.

It is a suggestion that residents find ridiculous after the Russians bombed a theater in Mariupol on Wednesday where a large number of people, including children, were sheltering, and after authorities declared on Sunday that an art school in the port where there were hundreds of refugees was also bombed.

During the multi-hour train ride, the survivors shared their experiences with other passengers. Even residents of other Ukrainian cities that have been attacked or occupied by Russian troops see Mariupol as an example of horror.

Yelena Sovchyuk, a resident of Melitopol, shared a train compartment with a family from Mariupol. He bought them food, he said. They had nothing but a small bag.

“Everyone from there is in deep shock,” Sovchyuk said.

He recalled seeing on the road the caravans leaving the besieged city. “There is a way to distinguish a car from Mariupol,” he said. “They don't have glass on their windows.”

With great disdain, Sovchyuk said that in the midst of the tremendous devastation Russian soldiers were still encouraging Ukrainians to flee to Russia, assuring that it is for their safety.

The Mariupol City Council has said that thousands of residents were transferred to Russia against their will in the past week. On Sunday, Moscow-backed separatists in eastern Ukraine reported that 2,973 people have been “evacuated” from Mariupol since March 5, including 541 in the past 24 hours.

Sunday afternoon's train with survivors was approaching Lviv Central Station, a city near Poland that has received some 200,000 people fleeing other parts of Ukraine. Some Mariupol survivors broke into tears as they got off the train and were greeted by family and friends after spending weeks fearing to lose their lives.

A mother hugged a tearful teenager at the foot of the steps. An old woman wearing a scarf was helped to get off the train and walked away quietly. Another remained motionless with her bags, watching the scene behind her thick glasses. Her neighbor, who escaped with her, said that some vehicles that left with them in the caravan were attacked.

With her hair disheveled and embraced by her family, Olga Nikitina cried on the platform.

“They began to destroy our city, completely, house by house,” said the young woman. “There were battles on every street. Every house became a target.”

The shots broke the windows. When the temperature in her apartment dropped below freezing, Nikitina moved in with her godmother, who suffers from cancer and takes care of her elderly father. Soon after, Ukrainian soldiers arrived and warned them that their house would be attacked.

“Hide or leave,” the soldiers told them.

Nikitina's gone. The others were too weak to leave. Now, like so many survivors of Mariupol who managed to escape, he doesn't know what happened to those who were left behind.