He found playing the character of an elderly Russian peasant worked better. He brought props to back up his story – a flash drive loaded with Russian songs that he could play in his van, a shovel and a tractor license. The fact that he was born in Russia certainly helped him as well. He was useful during his three months in captivity, doing jobs to help his community, including delivering groceries and distributing medicine. And finally, Oleksiy’s legend helped him escape the occupied zone after he smuggled a veteran of the Ukrainian armed forces, who was being hunted by the Russians, to neutral land and free Ukraine. The Russians had moved into the area around Oleksiy’s village days after invading southern Ukraine in late February. “The first week after the Russian invasion we didn’t leave our homes,” he told Sky News. “I felt tremendous fear, animalistic fear for my life, my family, my friends and my neighbors.” That fear soon turned to anger at the invasion of Russia, the country where Oleksiy spent his childhood before moving to Kherson for naval college. Anger prompted him to leave the house for the first time, making runs to the grocery store and his berry farm. Image: Oleksiy was photographed a few weeks ago after his escape Over time he did more by giving lifts to health care workers and delivering supplies, trips that included passing through Russian checkpoints. Being a Russian speaker helped him in these meetings, but he knew his phone could be his downfall. Oleksiy had begun sending information about Russian military positions he spotted on his travels to a Telegram channel owned by the Ukrainian security service. The friend was asked which knee he would prefer to be shot “I carefully prepared to go through checkpoints cleaning my phone: I deleted Viber, Telegram, Signal, YouTube, all photos and videos and cleared Google queries. But if the phone was checked by experts, they would definitely find something .” When Russian soldiers found an anti-Russian Facebook post on a friend’s phone, they pinned him against a wall for over an hour and asked him which knee he would prefer to be shot at. The soldiers eventually let the man go safely, but it was a warning to Oleksiy. He also started hearing stories about Russian soldiers breaking into people’s homes to search for weapons and veterans of the Ukrainian armed forces. Rumors circulated that in the neighboring Zaporizhzhia region the Russians were demanding that farmers register their plots of land with them. It wasn’t long before soldiers visited Oleksiy’s farm. “A large armored Kamaz truck followed by an armored personnel carrier drove straight into my yard… eight soldiers with machine guns poured out of the vehicle. One approached me and politely asked me how I was feeling. I replied that it was much better before they arrived.” Image: A Russian armored personnel carrier, the likes of which came to Oleksiy’s farm The Russians were lost and were looking to locate a hunter with records of gun owners in the area. However, these meetings did not stop his resistance actions. When morale soared in his village, for example, he turned on the stereo while cleaning his car to blast a Ukrainian folk song that had become an anthem of defiance. “I played ‘Oi u luzi chervona kalina’ really loud and opened the door for people around me to hear. My neighbors didn’t expect this, because it was a dangerous move if the Russians heard. But it worked, it lifted the spirits in the neighborhood ». “I’m running out of patience” Despite Oleksiy’s urge to resist the occupation, his family, including his son and daughter-in-law living abroad, urged him and his wife Svetlana to leave the occupied zone. But Svetlana’s elderly mother needed care and five people worked full-time on his farm, a business he had built up over 13 years. Without him around he worried about their future. “I was hoping that we could have a little patience and we could save the staff and the plants. But every day it became more and more alarming. Investigations of friends and acquaintances, threats of execution for a phrase in my mail, the interruption of communications Patience I’m exhausted.” In late May, Oleksiy began planning his escape, hoping to join the estimated 50% of people from Kherson who had fled to other parts of Ukraine and beyond by this time. He was familiar with Telegram groups – a popular social media messaging service – where they shared tips on how to get out of the occupied zone, as well as information on where Russian checkpoints were located. As he was planning his trip, one of Oleksiy’s employees came to him with a request – she wanted to take her husband and two children on his trip. Her husband, however, was a recent veteran of the Ukrainian armed forces, one of the people the Russians were looking for, and his van was already full. Oleksiy had to make a decision. to help a friend and possibly risk his life or prioritize his and his family’s journey. “It was crazy to take another man and two children. We talked for a long time, I didn’t know how to say that I didn’t have room in the car. We started to discuss what we will do if he is arrested at the checkpoint. He sobbed, asking to save the children and take them to relatives. I still can’t forget those sobs. . . All in all, I figured we’d all go together, to hell with things, squeeze in somehow.” Image: Oleksiy (front center) and nine of the people he carried. The veteran of the Ukrainian Armed Forces has his face obscured to protect his identity Oleksiy had already promised transport to three female health workers and two of their children, meaning 11 people would now have to pile into his truck. “My requests that people take no more than one bag per person were in vain, there was a mountain of stuff,” Oleksiy said. There was just enough room for one last passenger, Otis the cat, who was dragged overboard by blankets and bags after being thrown inside. Image: Otis the cat climbed into the luggage of the van When they started on June 2, they headed east toward the front line at Vasilievka, more than 180 miles away. There were about 25 checkpoints along the route and Oleksiy made sure to play one of Putin’s favorite songs on the radio to show the Russians that he would have no problem. Image: The route north-east on the banks of the Dnipro River No one knew exactly what to expect as he approached the front line. Some people reported getting through in a day, others had to hide from the fighting for several days in a line of cars that stretched for miles. “We arrived by car in Vasilievka at 3 p.m. It was a hot day and three generations of humans – and a cat – ate lunch and sought shelter from the sun with the sound of battle in the background, not knowing how long it would be. A Russian guard let one of the children play with his rifle, and Oleksiy asked if there was any chance of getting through the Russian lines, noting that his mother-in-law did not take the heat well. “I think somehow they remembered us. After 5 pm, the check started, they let 10 cars pass at a time, after checking items and documents.” A miracle of crossing the country They moved forward accompanied by a Russian armored personnel carrier and reached a final checkpoint. The Russians were looking for evidence of tattoos on people who would offer to serve in the Ukrainian forces and ordered the ex-veteran out of the van. “He came out of the bunch with the bags. They checked if he had any tattoos on his body and once again all the passports were checked.” Subscribe to Ukraine War Diaries on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify and Spreaker Not knowing that this man was in the armed forces, the Russians let the group through. “After that we were free and nowhere.” Once in the neutral zone between the fronts, Oleksiy hit the gas. The river bridge separating the Russians and Ukrainians broke and they detoured along a dirt road. Artillery began firing overhead and heavy rain began to fall, turning the swamp they were crossing into a quagmire. A fire truck and two military tractors belonging to the advancing Ukrainian forces had to be called in to pull the convoy of vehicles across the swamp. They finally succeeded, a feat Oleksiy described as a miracle. Once they crossed the Ukrainian fronts, police escorted them along with other vehicles in the convoy to Zaporizhzhia, a city of 750,000 people about 20 miles behind the fighting. On arrival they were registered at the local office, given tea and coffee and given a bed in a local nursery where over 100 mattresses were spread out on the floor. Image: The kindergarten where dozens of beds were made for the incoming displaced persons Oleksiy and his family are now staying with relatives in Zaporizhzhia, while most of his passengers have moved west to Lviv or Odesa. He also volunteers back, helping equipment get to Ukrainian troops and medical supplies to the Red Cross in Kherson. Having grown up in Russia, Oleksiy may be the type of Ukrainian Vladimir Putin expected to warmly welcome his troops. His reaction to the invasion and his resistance show how wrong the Russian president was. “I conquered my fear a long time ago. All I have left is rage.”
