Evacuees from Mariupol describe how they survived inside the Azovstal steel plant
ZAPORIZHZHIA, Ukraine — When Russian forces invaded Ukraine, 47-year-old Anna Krylova was working the night shift as a gas purification operator at Azovstal, a massive steel processing plant in the southern port city of Mariupol.
Her 14-year-old daughter, Maiia, came with her — no one was at home to watch her.
"We didn't leave that plant for the next 70 days," says Krylova. "As the bombing got worse, we moved further underground."
Russian forces began bombing Mariupol at the very start of the war. Most of the besieged city is in Russian hands now, but reduced to rubble. The Azovstal steel plant, badly hit, is the last holdout.
The Krylovas are among dozens of civilians who were evacuated from the plant this weekend, in a joint effort by the United Nations and the International Committee of the Red Cross, which convinced Russia to hold its fire until some civilians got out. The evacuees arrived in the southern city of Zaporizhzhia on Tuesday. Some are now heading to various cities in Ukraine.
A vast network of tunnels with bunkers lies under the sprawling, Soviet-era plant, reportedly the last Ukrainian-held post in Mariupol. Hundreds of civilians as well as up to 2,000 Ukrainian soldiers sheltered there. But those inside say they never felt truly safe.
"It was really scary because we couldn't go outside," Krylova says. "It was just too dangerous. And inside we kept going from shelter to shelter, because the bombs kept hitting. We were hungry, we were scared, we were under constant shelling."
She calls the experience "like the apocalypse, like a horror film." Her daughter says, "Each day felt like it would be our last one alive."
Osnat Lubrani, the United Nations humanitarian coordinator for Ukraine, told reporters that the U.N. was already planning another evacuation. But last night, Russian forces reportedly began storming the steel plant.
"It's horrifying to think what could be happening there," says English teacher Alex Dybko, who was evacuated along with his wife and young children. "It was already so terrible when we left. The steelworks looked like a mass of stone, iron and dust ... like something out of the Second World War. I never thought I would see this with my own eyes."
Dybko shared an underground bunker with the Krylovas. They pushed together benches to use as beds. The bunker shook, especially at night, when the bombing and shelling was the worst. His kids told him they were afraid to get up and go to the toilet.
"The [steelworks] was hit several times, it was burning several times," he says. "We were trying to manage the fire and not to suffocate. So every day was a fight for survival."
The only bright spot, he says, was that a plant worker sheltering with them found a generator, so there was sporadic electricity.
Many others lived in near-darkness for two months, including 57-year-old Oleh Yurkin, a Mariupol native. He used a headlamp to get around, "but only in areas where we were covered because otherwise the drones and fighter jets would spot us."
He and his wife cooked on a stove made out of bricks blown loose from explosions. Soldiers had stockpiled goods inside the plant and shared them with civilians.
Yurkin is a musician who used to perform in the city's restaurants and cafes. Every single one of those buildings is gone, bombed to rubble by the Russian military.
"Now," he says, "the city is no more."
9(MDAxODcyMTgzMDEyMTgxMTY5NjYxN2I4OQ004))
Transcript
A MARTINEZ, HOST:
The European Union is considering a total embargo on Russian oil as it attempts to show its continued support for Ukraine against Russia's invasion. The news comes as Ukrainian officials say they hope to get more evacuees out of the ruins of the Azovstal steel plant in the southern city of Mariupol even as Russian forces continue to shell the facility. Hundreds of civilians and Ukrainian fighters are still holed up in bunkers and tunnels underneath the plant. They're the last holdouts in a city Russian forces have reduced to rubble. Roughly a hundred evacuees have now arrived in the city of Zaporizhzhia, and NPR's Joanna Kakissis met up with some of them.
JOANNA KAKISSIS, BYLINE: The convoy of vans and buses pulls up late in the afternoon in the parking lot of a home goods shopping center filled with aid workers and reporters. Osnat Lubrani is the U.N.'s humanitarian coordinator for Ukraine.
OSNAT LUBRANI: We've just arrived after a very complicated operation - safe passage operation.
KAKISSIS: The U.N. and International Red Cross organized this mission. As Lubrani speaks, the evacuees walk off two large buses. They're pale, tired and dazed. Aid workers lead them to a large tent where hot chicken soup awaits. A mother and her 14-year-old daughter wave me over.
I'm Joanna. Nice to meet you.
ANNA KRILOVA: Nice to meet you, too.
KAKISSIS: Anna, Maya.
Anna Krilova actually worked at the Azovstal steel plant.
KRILOVA: (Speaking Russian).
KAKISSIS: When Russia invaded Ukraine, Krilova was working a night shift. Her daughter came along because she's too young to stay at home. They did not leave for 70 days. As the bombings got worse and worse, they moved into the massive network of bunkers under the plant.
KRILOVA: (Through interpreter) It was really scary because we couldn't go outside. It was just too dangerous. And inside, we kept going from shelter to shelter because the bombs kept hitting. We were hungry. We were scared. We were under constant shelling. It's like apocalypse. It's like a horror film.
KAKISSIS: Is that how you felt too, Maya, that you were in a horror film?
MAYA KRILOVA: Yes, it was very scary and...
KAKISSIS: Maya does not finish the thought. Her eyes fill with tears. Her mother wipes away her own tears and points to the front of a black sweatshirt she's wearing.
Says all monsters are human.
KRILOVA: (Speaking Russian).
KAKISSIS: It's dirty, so you can't see the letters well, she says. But it's true. It's absolutely true.
Across the table from her is English teacher Alex Dybko and his wife and young son. They shared an underground bunker with the Krilovas.
ALEX DYBKO: So we had some benches. So we put them together to sleep on. When heavy shelling started, children were afraid even to go to the toilets.
KAKISSIS: He says the shelter was shaking, especially at night, when the bombing was the worst.
DYBKO: The building was hit several times. We were trying to manage the fire and not to suffocate. So every day was kind of a fight for survival.
KAKISSIS: The only bright spot, he says, was that some plant workers found a generator, so there was sporadic electricity. Many others lived in near darkness for two months, including 57-year-old Oleg Gurkin. He pulls out a headlamp he wore to get around.
OLEG GURKIN: (Speaking Russian).
KAKISSIS: He says, "We could only move around in areas where we were covered, under the plant, because otherwise the drones and the fighter jets would spot us."
GURKIN: (Speaking Russian).
KAKISSIS: He tells us that he and his wife cooked on a stove made of bricks blown loose from the explosions.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
KAKISSIS: Gurkin is a native of Mariupol. His eyes well up as he shows us a video of himself playing pop songs on his electric piano. He's a musician. Before the war, he performed at restaurants and cafes in Mariupol - those places by the sea, where he laughed with friends and played all their requests.
GURKIN: (Speaking Russian).
KAKISSIS: Yeah. But now, he says, the city is no more. He calls Mariupol a corpse and a ghost. And he says the last bit of life is hanging on under the Azovstal plant, where hundreds of Ukrainian soldiers and civilians remain. He hopes they get out like he did.
Joanna Kakissis, NPR News, Zaporizhzhia, Ukraine.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
300x250 Ad
300x250 Ad