Putin's war is changing Ukraine. Journal of Arkady Babchenko War changes

What could be worse than knowing that your world is falling apart? Do you know that feeling when you realize that not you, not your friends and loved ones will no longer be safe? What does it mean to live with the thought that nothing will be the same as before?

You hardly know what it means to live in war time. But I know.

As far as I know, we were attacked by Hadrian's army. I was very surprised knowing that all the players were against this tyrant. Our intelligence reported that Adrian turned on PAMA, and he chipped people. We also learned that Cassie Rose was involved in the union. Do you know why they did it? To take revenge on me and my team and destroy our home world.

In order to resist the enemies, we created our own army. And we try to attract as much as possible more people.

And by the way, they put me at the head of this army. "Commander Jesse," what does it sound like?

There are several detachments in our army, each headed by one person. I am in charge of the Sword-bearers detachment. We make up the bulk of the army. Everything is quite simple here, you need to be able to tolerably wield a sword.

We have a squad of archers, led by Lucas. It's harder to get into this group. Here you need to be able to shoot a bow, while hitting the target at a distance of at least eighteen meters (the author of this fanfic knows what it is). Usually, the members of this squad stand on the Patrol Towers and shoot deep into the enemy warriors.

The next one is the Submarine Squad. It is run by Nell. This group makes up the smallest part of our army, since we need their forces least of all. Each submariner has his own water pack, which is attached to his back. It hides a long hose with a mechanism that passes water through itself, making real boiling water out of it, and then shoots hellish liquid at a gaping enemy. With the help of a knapsack, divers move silently under water, and to attack, they soar into the air, hanging on a stream of water. But everything is not as simple as it might seem. Adrian managed to make the chips immune to water, otherwise the war would have ended before it even started.

And finally the last one. A hang gliding unit led by Harper. This is the second largest group. His task is to drop bombs on enemies from the sky. Harper was able to improve hang gliders so that they could be easily controlled without resorting to help from the ground.

How exactly do all these mechanisms work, you ask? And I'll tell you: Ivor and Harper figured out that the Heart of the Red Stone works like a big battery. In order to competently use all this energy for good, they split this Heart into a huge number of small fragments. Since one fragment contains as much energy as the whole Heart, our scientists have obtained many small batteries with enormous power. Scientists have invested each fragment in each mechanism, each person.

I'll say one more thing. Our city was under siege, so in order to save the survivors, we sheltered them in our temple. And now complete strangers walk along the corridors. I myself don’t really mind, but the most unpleasant thing is that small children run around everywhere, who do not take into account the elders. They don't understand the danger. War seems to them a normal game. Looking at their serene entertainment, I indulge more and more in longing for my former life. When everything was safe and joyful.

I am writing this story already when the war ended. Again peaceful and calm time. But everything has changed radically. I can no longer perceive the world the way I used to. I still hear the screams of terror war cries. I can feel that metallic taste of blood on my lips and tongue. Before my eyes there are pictures of battles, torn corpses, maps with different areas. Every night I wake up feeling like I'm being watched. And of course, the people who participated in this war have changed. It seems that they have matured by several years, have become gloomier, more nervous. I made friends with many people who had previously seemed repugnant to me. But we have changed not only internally, but also externally.

It hurts me even to think about all this, but I will try to present on these pages the whole story that happened in this war with everyone.

The ongoing conflict is gradually changing the minds of Ukrainians and is leading to the "geopolitical divorce of the century," according to the Atlantic Council report. We are talking about the separation of two countries that were part of the same empire for centuries, writes The Washington Post columnist Ann Applebaum.

“Trade between Russia and Ukraine, whose economies have been intertwined since the Middle Ages, has dwindled. In Ukraine, it has been replaced by trade with Europe and the rest of the world. Now India, not Russia, is the main buyer of Ukrainian food. Ancient religious ties between the two countries are also disappearing: Ukrainian Orthodox Church now officially separated from Moscow. Even people-to-people ties are weakening: as bans on direct flights between the two countries now restrict movement, Ukrainians are less likely to live and work in Russia and travel more to Poland.

Russia's once all-powerful cultural influence is also fading. Ukrainian radio stations are required to air a certain percentage of Ukrainian songs, and many Russian state TV channels are banned on the grounds that they broadcast military propaganda. “Some want to go even further: Last week, the regional legislature in Lviv said without thinking that it wanted to ban all Russian books and music. No one can enforce such a measure in this deeply bilingual country,” Applebaum notes.

“These petty discriminatory measures express a sense of powerlessness because of the endless war. They are also meaningless because a more fundamental, tectonic shift is already underway. Thanks to the war and anger against those responsible for it, Ukrainians themselves switch to Ukrainian - every year everyone talks about it more people. Thanks to the war, various regions of a huge country are getting closer and closer," the journalist believes. More and more Ukrainians define themselves as Europeans and understand that this means the need for openness and organization in the pursuit of change, she adds.

The Russian invasion, originally intended to punish Ukraine's pro-Western government, has pushed the country in a radically different direction. Applebaum says it's a reminder that Vladimir Putin's ostensibly strategic talents are actually quite limited: his meddling has turned a once-friendly neighbor country into an enemy. “Ukraine is a great reminder that violence can have unexpected consequences, and a short-term victory can lead to defeat in the long run,” Applebaum concludes.

Before the fiery rain fell on Donetsk, Slavyansk, Gorlovka, Lugansk and other cities of Donbass, I simply did not care about the war. I watched films about the war at best, if it was some kind of advertised blockbuster or an old Soviet film on May 9th. Books about the war did not catch on so much. I tried to start reading Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls, but I ran into my own indifference already on page 10. It was much more interesting for me to read about the inner experiences of the characters, about the drug addiction experience of the characters in Requiem for a Dream, about the split personality of the protagonist in Fight Club. The thoughts of a soldier were indifferent to me. Especially read about explosions, trenches, shells, craters, death, blood and pain. Perhaps in this way my subconscious protected me from that side of life with which it was too early for me to get acquainted, but it happened and for which I was not at all ready.

Of course, my environment was the same. People who liked to read about life, but not about death. With the first explosions and hints of fighting my entire environment crumbled. They left and remained true to their way of life. I also remained true to myself, or rather to my inner feelings. I didn't want to leave Donetsk, no matter what. I do not regret this decision and I am even proud of it, because thanks to the war I saw a different facet of life that was previously hidden from my eyes. I got to know the war.

The war did not go unnoticed. I'm not talking about a physical change, but rather an internal one. Something that only I know about and now I am writing about it. Standing in the crowd, being among the people, for some reason I remember those days when Donetsk was completely empty, and cannonade was a lullaby for Donetsk people. Then the whole city was restless and there were simply no safe places. Our "bomb shelters" could soon become mass graves than life-saving shelters. Every day we communicated with neighbors and shared rumors about the upcoming shelling of our area, shared information from the front, which we learned from the militias, who were returning home from the front for several days on a weekend. Then we were all one. Everyone is equal. Each of us did not know if tomorrow would come for him or if this was his last day. We all played Russian roulette together, in which instead of one cartridge there were 5 in the drum and the chances of survival were not great. Before our eyes, what we were accustomed to and what we loved with all our hearts was being destroyed. At this time, the whole world was watching us like cockroaches in a jar.

The most important principle of democracy is equality. No matter how paradoxical it may sound, but it was equality that the war brought. She took everything from us and in return gave us something that is not available in civilian life. We are all equal before death, and in those hot days we not only understood this, we felt it. Especially in those moments when there were reports of the number of people killed in the neighboring area. At any moment, you could become one of them. Nobody was immune. Not a rich man (unless he ran away), not a salesman in the market, not an office clerk in the city center, not a driver, not a soldier on the front line. Ghibli and children. The war spared no one.

Despite all the horrors of the war, it showed us the true values ​​that we are already beginning to forget again. Now I begin to understand why I am terribly annoyed by returnees, majors, poseurs and pathos. For me, they are a sign of a past life. Peaceful life penetrates us. If you look at large groups in in social networks, on the pages of users, it seems that there was no war at all. It didn't exist for them. Looking at them, I remember myself and I feel disgusted. I'm ashamed of who I was before everything that happened. I am grateful to the war for changing me.

With its shells, the war destroyed not only houses, infrastructure and killed people. Bombs turned the familiar world, shook people up and put their brains in place. Having stirred up the swamp of consumption, the war separated the real from the fake. Volunteers went to war to protect their loved ones or help people defend their right to freedom and independence. Some chose to run and stay away. Everyone made their choice.

At the time of the active phase in Donetsk, there was no thing that always made me sick - pathos and gloss. There were no trendy girls and boys in cool cars who considered themselves the masters of life, because mom and dad gave them the right amount of money. It is worth noting that if everyone were in their place, they thought the same way, because at that time absolutely everything was decided by money. At that time, the cult of money ruled in Donetsk. People lived for money and for money. Propaganda of a carefree life poured from all cracks. Alas, money will not save you from a flying mine, much less restore your physical or mental health. Therefore, they fled from Donetsk.

And vice versa. There were those who found the strength in themselves and went to war. They sacrificed not only their bodies, but rather put their souls on the line. After the war, they will not be able to return to their normal lives. Those who had families, children, will come home and do their usual business. But there are those who went to the front at the age of 18. Their peers study at institutes, go to cafes, have fun in clubs. Perhaps they wanted the same, but internal debt does not allow. I do not think that even after the end of hostilities they will be able to find themselves in civilian life. They will have to drag out a miserable existence. They will remember the war with regret and consider it best time in their lives because they knew the meaning of their lives. After all, in war everything is easier.

“War replaces difficult gray areas Everyday life eerie unperturbed clarity. In war, you usually know who is your friend and who is your enemy, and you know how to deal with both.

(from an article by William Broyles "WHY WE LOVE WAR").

Now we see people coming back. This is certainly good, but they continue to promote the lifestyle of the consumer, considering the act of consumption as their highest achievement. The line between people who survived hell and those who have sat out is huge. That's probably why I can't bear to watch their way of life. With the return of these people, the swamp of consumption began to suck us in again. What we were torn from in 2014 is now engulfing us again. We are now faced with the threat of a repeat of 2014, but this is not about war, but about the fact that our society may not be ready again. Once again, people relaxed, believing that the war was over. But it's not. The current state of the situation cannot last long. Sooner or later, it will break through and a new round of armed conflict will follow. Allowing ourselves to relax is unacceptable in our position.

Lada Egorova

War changes a person. No matter how much you want to believe that you are able to return to civilian life as yourself, this is self-deception. War, any kind of it, is hardening. It makes you be indifferent - to death, to submission, to fatal orders. And it doesn't even matter what kind of war you took part in. Having come into contact with her once, you will never leave her again, carrying her like a child in your body, memory and soul.

Abstract somewhere your house still exists. He is, there is a city in which you should be expected. This thought warms exactly as long as you do not come there. And then you no longer feel that home is home. In general, the spectrum of your feelings shakes constantly. Values ​​are lost, moral foundations are lost, idealistic views are forgotten.

Basically, you don't care much. The joke about twinning is rightfully considered the most fun joke. And most hot topic(and for humor too) is death. Of course, this is war. You are callous, rude, always abstracted, directed at yourself. You're slowly going crazy. Uncomfortable here and uncomfortable in a peaceful life. That is why you are rushing about, trying to find peace of mind at least somewhere, throwing yourself into various spheres of life, but deep down knowing that you will not find anything.

You return to the ranks of the fighters, but the fighters among them can be counted on the fingers. Lumpenized society. A society that has lost its purpose, staggering like zombies in an attempt to find the meaning of being here. Another war. War with yourself. War on stupidity. War on degradation. You have to fight every day. And not always victory is on your side.

And in my hometown on the streets, in former locations general leisure, in shops you are approached by once close people or just acquaintances. They are trying to speak. But their words are empty. How empty and uninteresting you are the topics of these conversations. So most often you say that it's time to go. You apologize and quickly walk away. Because you are no longer you. And this city, peaceful and passive, no longer understands your experiences.

And at home (that is, in a concrete box with a warm name that does not reflect reality now), the family expects you to be the same whom they once accompanied to the war. Not gloomy, not closed in itself and day by day in my head not sorting out fragments of events. They expect you to be cheerful and cheerful, to believe in kindness and compassion, to love and give love. No. You are not ready to open up, they are not ready to accept the new you.

Explaining your feelings is like banging your head against a blank wall. They feel the same way. And it seems that there is no place for you anymore. Not in this house, not in this city, not in this community.

You can leave the war. Run away and go far. But the war will never leave you, tearing through the memory of what you tried to bury.