Myroslav Otkovych. DEFENDER DIARY

For over a month, the 130rd Territorial Defense Battalion of Kyiv has been defending “strategically important population centers” in Kharkiv Oblast in eastern Ukraine. The defenders find themselves in “operational encirclement” and are under constant heavy fire from artillery, mortars, tanks, helicopters, and everything else the enemy can throw at them.

The soldiers in this territorial defense unit are Kyivans, who, in peace time, had a variety of different jobs, including veteran television reporter Myroslav Otkovych, who is serving in the battalion’s mortar platoon. He agreed to share some of the entries from his war diary with us.

We drove out to the field late at night.

We were ordered to dig in and prepare the mortar firing positions.

Each one of us has their own shovel.

First, we set up the mortars, directed them towards their targets, unpacked the shells and then started to dig.

The top layer of ground was easy, but the tilled black soil soon gave way to ground that was dry and hard.

Beside me, a fellow soldier is complaining that his shovel is very difficult to work with. We trade shovels. Now I am down to my short-sleeved shirt, on my knees, gouging every centimeter, one layer at a time.

I lie down in the hole to measure its depth. I cannot extend my knees and my left shoulder is still above ground. Damn!

If you want to stay alive: dig deeper and keep digging.

Involuntarily, I recall my calm life back in the office.

Just four months ago, I was sitting in a comfortable chair, or driving my car or flying on an airplane to film a report, the only gear I needed was make-up, a suit and stuff like that. I catch myself thinking that this is all so surreal, but I understand that there’s no turning back.

So, I keep digging…

I chop through the roots with a sharp bayonet. My strength is failing. We haven’t slept for a full day. We last ate something the day before yesterday. Water has run out. Dehydration.

I lie down to measure the size of the hole again, this time it’s large enough. My entire body is below the surface, legs extended.

I turn over to lay on my back. I look at the sky.

A countless number of stars. “How are they doing?”, I think to myself, “the stars in the sky, and those here on earth. My Family, the love of my life, all my friends.” I feel like I am among them all and neither here, nor there at the same time. Between worlds.

My trench looks like a grave: a hole in the ground for a body, two meters long and half a meter wide. We are ready for battle.

It grows lighter…

I need to get up. We run over to take cover where we’re less noticeable.

We light up cigarettes…

My throat grows parched, my tongue feels like dry earth in drought. I remembered my late grandfather Petro’s story from the Second World War, about how soldiers were always thirsty. If they found a dirty puddle in the middle of the road, he told me, they’d drink from it. I did not believe him when I was young. But right now, I’d settle for a sip of even that.

The sun rises suddenly, burning the steppe, peering into every nook and cranny, alarmingly announcing the beginning of a new day. Attack is imminent.

The orcs have taken up positions a kilometer and a half away from us. Our order is to provide cover for the infantry with concentrated and accurate mortar fire.

The guys go forward step by careful step, each holding their sector, just like in the movies. The artillery fires one shot at a time.

Meanwhile, I am looking for any signs of dew on the tree leaves. There are none. Suddenly, someone calls out softly: The unit next to us has an entire bottle of water!

We greedily swallow the liquid one by one. Some of it streams down the chin and cold drops cascade underneath my clothing.

My body tenses up by reflex, then relaxes. My body is ready to drink the moisture through the skin.

So delicious!

A little revived, we proceed. Later, I found out that the water came from a nearby muddy pond, with frogs croaking as shells flew over top of them.

It wasn’t exactly a puddle, but…I glanced at the sky again, where my grandfather was smiling.

Now we understand one another.

We will win! #unitewithukraine