In early August I returned to northeastern Ukraine, and went with Human Rights Defenders (HRDs) in Kharkiv to rescue civilians from neighborhoods under intense missile attacks.
I had worked with them in June and July, and reported on the dangerous, lifesaving work being done by volunteers who evacuate vulnerable civilians from close to the battlefront, and bring them to the relative safety of Kharkiv city.
There is still an enormous need for this sort of effort. The UN says at least 219 civilians were killed in Ukraine in July 2024, making it the most lethal month since October 2022. The number of civilian casualties have been rising steadily since March 2024.
I joined the Rose on Hand team who operate out of Kharkiv. They have around 60 volunteers working with them, part of a much larger network of groups evacuating civilians.
Yevhen Koliada, Chairman of the Board of Kharkiv’s Relief Coordination Center (RCC), told me following the recent Russian wave of attacks that began on May 10, 37 organizations have been involved in evacuating around 12,000 civilians, and 90 per cent of those carrying them out were volunteers.
Valentina, Anatoly and Lyubov, evacuated from Kupiansk
Alksander from Rose on Hand reckons they have saved about 500 of these. We drove to Kupiansk to pick up three elderly people who wanted to leave the city which is constantly under attack. I have reported from Kupiansk several times over the last year, detailing how civilians cope under severe bombardments.
We picked up Anatoly, and sisters Valentina and Lyubov. Valentina told us how she had stayed at Lyubov’s house the night before, and woke to discover that her own house had been completely destroyed by a Russian missile. “I only have my clothes and some documents,” she said as she got into our van. “That’s all that’s left of my life now.”
Kupiansk is a very dangerous place. Around 45 minutes after we left, a missile strike killed a woman in the district where we had been, and we see plumes of smoke around the fields nearby as rockets hit.
We brought the three of them to the reception center in Kharkiv city where they will get help to relocate and start new lives away from Kupiansk.
The next day we made the five-hour drive to the small village Prykolotne, about 10 miles from the Russian border, to evacuate a family of four. The community has been under intense attack, as the village has a small railway station on the strategically important line connecting Vovchansk and Kupiansk.
Author Brian Dooley wears a flak jacket
On the way we stopped at the ruins of the village school of Kyrylivka, totally devastated in a Russian artillery attack. Patches of scorched earth scar the fields around the road to Prykolotne, and we pass mile after mile of destroyed homes and communities. Russian soldiers are only a few miles from here, and we see no other vehicles on the road for over an hour. A lone farmer salutes us for the roadside.
As we get closer, we stop in the sunflower fields to Dress Up – to put on flak jacks and helmets. These are uncomfortable, heavy and hot in the summer sun, but offer vital protection.
A “Sugar Cube” used to detect drones
Then our small drone detector beeps and we immediately look upwards, scouring the sky to see what it has picked up. These small devices, nicknamed Sugar Cubes, are about the size of a mobile phone, and offer alerts that something is in the air above us. The cost around $100, and are used by activists across the region.
We fear it has detected the dreaded Russian Lancets, kamikaze drones that circle targets before attacking. But the Sugar Cube indicates it’s an Orlan-10, a Russian drone used primarily for surveillance, and we proceed.
Alksander (left) from Rose on Hand with the family rescued from Prykolotne
At Prykolotne, the family is ready to go. There’s a mum and dad and kids of 15 and 12. They only have about 10 bags of belongings between them. They moved to Prykolotne in February when they were bombed out of their home nearby.
“There were over 100 missile attacks in a week,” says mum Alla. She and her family have decided it’s now too dangerous to stay and so asked to be evacuated to Kharkiv city. “I’m a trained medic,” she said. “I want to work, find a job with ambulances.”
We head back to Kharkiv, stopping again briefly when the Sugar Cube beeps. It looks like another Orlan-10, and we continue. We take the family to the reception center in the city, and their new life begins.
And Alksander from Rose on Hand goes home and waits for the call to tell him who will need rescuing tomorrow.
