Russians are destroying Kostiantynivka. This small city — despite its proximity to the front — had long remained a place where soldiers and their loved ones could meet and rest. Now it is being shelled with tube artillery, drones and multiple launch rocket systems. We hear about the destruction every day, sometimes every few hours. Water and electricity are disappearing. The mandatory evacuation of families with children is underway.
I had only ever passed through cities of Donetsk Oblast such as Bakhmut, Kostiantynivka or Pokrovsk. During the period of the Joint Forces Operation, they were far in the rear, while we — the military — had to move closer to the front. I saw Kostiantynivka for the first time in 2018, right before New Year’s. Our brigade had shifted to the Avdiivka sector, and since there were no direct tickets from Kyiv, I was picked up from Konstakha [a local nickname for Kostiantynivka — Ed]. The train station struck me as dreadful back then: hundreds of people, swarms of minibus drivers and taxi drivers, stalls selling underwear, bowls, plumbing parts, fried belyashi… Still, I managed to find a small coffee shop where I could wait — and even buy a cake for the guys.
When our brigade moved to the Bakhmut sector in August 2022, we were supposed to settle in Konstakha. But once again, the city did not host us — at that time, there was no running water, and the Russians had just bombed a school building. We managed to find shelter in a private house that still had water, though the owners had already fled. The only problem was the elderly woman next door, who kept praying for the Russian soldiers. So we decided to look for another place and eventually settled in Druzhkivka, where we remained for three years.
But last year in Konstakha, we found a place to work, and we started going there every day. That’s how we gradually began to love the city — for the tasty lunches at Lozhka, Seven Winds or even at the Rout gas station; for the coffee at Aromakava and the cafés with delicious cakes along the main street. We shopped for groceries at Ekomarket — until the day it was hit by a missile, and we saw bodies of local residents being pulled from the rubble. After that, we agreed never to visit large supermarkets again, not only in Konstakha but in other frontline towns as well.
Today, Kostiantynivka feels like two separate cities. One, despite the shelling, is still alive and full of people. They stand in lines for humanitarian aid, trade at the markets, ride bicycles and minibuses. The other part of the city — the area around the train station — is stitched together with fiber optic cables, shattered by air-dropped bombs, artillery fire and almost deserted.
