As its long-awaited counteroffensive to attempt to change the course of the conflict gained momentum, Ukraine reported yesterday that it has damaged bridges and ammunition dumps in addition to shelling Russia command centers.
The ongoing conflict with Putin’s forces, now in its seventh month, is considered as entering its “third chapter” with the recent drive in the south to retake the Kherson area.
Initial excursions through enemy lines on Monday, two months in the making, before Kyiv yesterday claimed “intense combat” in “nearly the whole region.”
Following previous assaults on Mykolaiv, Moscow authorized strikes on Kharkiv, the second-largest city in Ukraine, which resulted in the deaths of five people. Richard Pendlebury of The Mail provides updates from the front lines. ..
On a lazy summer day, just after 3 o’clock, Mykolaiv is hit by the Russian counterattack to the Ukrainian counteroffensive.
We are hunting for a place to stay the night as we go along a street surrounded with trees in the middle of this devastated, front-line city. My ears tingle as there is an enormous explosion that seems to be happening just above us suddenly and without warning. then another And just then, the tranquil world around us starts to disintegrate.
From a side street, a mother and daughter emerge sprinting hand in hand as fast as they can. The little girl, who is probably nine or ten, is afraid and is dressed in a sundress.
I have to bring my kid to safety, the woman’s look on her face is stern and determined.
As they speed by us, her daughter’s feet barely make contact with the ground. Women who were just conversing on benches outside a floral store are suddenly standing up and dispersing in all directions. A avenue that was previously almost vacant is now abandoned.
More ominous booms. One of my friends recommends, “Outgoing local air defense.” Then a loud thump that is certainly not coming from outside occurs from a few blocks distant. The city’s air raid sirens finally start to sound, along with a hundred cars whose alarms had gone off.
Over our neighborhood’s roofs, a massive column of greasy gray smoke is rising and spreading laterally, and the sky is teeming with birds. We get out of the vehicle and into a shady yard protected by Soviet-era apartment buildings.
Oleksandr Shulga examines his house’s ruins. On a lazy summer day, it’s just after 3 p.m. when Mykolaiv is hit by Russia’s retaliation to Ukraine’s counteroffensive.
My arms reflexively jerk upwards as I cringe at the sound of another huge explosion that likewise appears to be immediately above. I suddenly feel like a puppet on strings. I consider how silly I must seem. However, the sound is so abrupt and near that it has a visceral impact.
An elderly guy is waving his fist at the heavens from a balcony above me. I’ve been informed by a military source that just 26 days have passed since Russia’s invasion without airstrikes, artillery, or missile shelling on his beleaguered city.
A total of 133 people have died and several more have been injured. 37 members of the administrative staff perished in a single air strike during a Russian effort to kill Vitaliy Kim, the region’s outspoken and Putin-baiting governor, in March.
Heavy civilian deaths were also a result of the missile onslaught on Monday, which is how the Mail crew was captured. It struck Mykolaiv hours after the Ukrainian military started a significant counteroffensive into the nearby, 30 miles away, Russian-occupied city of Kherson.
The Russian first line of defense has reportedly already been breached by the Ukrainians by a ten-mile corridor, according to reports from yesterday. The war’s crucial front line in the south has just lately become apparent.
The largest city in a primarily Russian-speaking area is Mykolaiv. However, it did not lay out flowers to greet the invaders. Instead, the Kremlin’s projected push from Crimea to the Black Sea coast to seize Odesa was prevented by defenders, many of whom were volunteers.
Mykolaiv and its environs are now the launchpad for this significant counterattack.
Kherson city, which is separate from the main Kremlin forces on the west bank of the Dnieper river, is reported to be home to 20,000 Russian soldiers.
Will these formations be successfully cut off by the impending Ukrainian attack and destroyed?
Using HIMARS, the very long-range and deadly accurate rocket launchers that the United States gave, the Ukrainians have been striking the bridges across which these soldiers receive resupply for the last month.
However, yesterday video posted on social media seemed to show intense gun and rocket exchanges within the municipal boundaries of Kherson. It is now hard to say whether Ukrainian forces have already entered the country’s first populated center to fall under Russian control.
Heavy civilian deaths were also a result of the missile onslaught on Monday, which is how the Mail crew was captured. It struck Mykolaiv hours after the Ukrainian military started a significant counteroffensive into the nearby, 30 miles away, Russian-occupied city of Kherson. A hurt lady is spotted sobbing in public.
According to Kirill Stremousov, the Russian-appointed deputy commander of occupied Kherson, there was “no difficulty” and the Ukrainian strikes were “fruitless.”
The fact that he seemed to be speaking from a five-star hotel in the Russian city of Voronezh, more than 100 miles from Ukraine and close to 500 miles from Kherson, detracted from the impact of his message.
A spokesperson for the Ukrainian president said: “Almost the whole Kherson area is the scene of heavy conflict.” The Ukrainian Armed Forces undertook different assault operations.
President Zelensky issued a dire warning in his most recent broadcast: “If they want to live — it’s time for the Russian military to flee away.” Go home; Ukraine is reclaiming its own.
I traveled to the southern front near the Black Sea coast just before the counteroffensive started.
More over two hours to the west of Mykolaiv, outside the once-bustling commercial port of Odesa, the glistening water was deserted but for the shadows of two bulk grain vessels waiting to arrive and unload their cargo. Following a deal mediated by Turkey to provide a secure shipping path over the Russian blockade, the first grain supplies from Ukraine since February finally landed in Africa yesterday. Because so much of the poor world depends on Ukrainian grain, the invasion has had an indirect negative impact.
The route between Odesa and Mykolaiv was littered with evidence of the continuing worldwide food crisis. The area was lined with hundreds of fully laden grain transporter vehicles that were waiting in the hot heat. One motorist said, “I’ve just been here seven days, but other men have waited in line for 28 days.” The cargo ships were waiting for the trucks to arrive during peacetime. The trucks are now waiting for the ships.
A few kilometers inland from the coast, Mykolaiv is situated on a peninsula created by the confluence of two rivers. It is a center for shipbuilding, and during the Soviet era, its employees constructed the former flagship of the Russian Black Sea Fleet, Moskva, which was destroyed by Ukrainian missiles on April 14. The city was home to 500,000 people before to the invasion. There are now less than half of them.
Russian lines are not far away and are well inside artillery range. During the day, there is no flowing water, and at night, there is just salt water.
When individuals are seen on the street, they are often either carrying plastic water bottles or waiting in line at stand pipes. It is quite hot.
I had a meeting with the town’s governor, Vitaliy Kim, when I arrived. The specifics have to be left unplanned in order to avoid becoming public in the incorrect areas. My location is told to go to a dark, cobblestone alley where a young guy in in green fatigues is waiting as if he is awaiting orders from his commander. I don’t realize it’s the powerful pimpernel until he approaches me and extends his hand.
Richard Pendlebury was on the front line and was shook by the explosions. The Russian first line of defense has reportedly already been breached by the Ukrainians by a ten-mile corridor, according to reports from yesterday. This southern front line has just lately become crucial to the conflict.
Volodymyr Zelensky-inspired quasi-military attire is worn by Kim. Like his President, he must always be one step ahead of the Russians if he is to survive.
He is credited with being the first to refer to the invaders as “orcs,” after the hideous and vile creatures from The Lord of the Rings. This and other taunts undoubtedly had a part in the incident that occurred at the regional administrative headquarters building at 8:44 am on March 29.
He explains with a sarcastic smirk, “The missile was a Kalibr of an expensive sort and it precisely came through the window of my office on the fourth level.” Then, with utter earnestness, he said, “My team’s whole roster perished.” His own survival is the stuff of legend, and there are many competing theories.
Kim has previously claimed that he missed the meeting because he “overslept” that morning. A military insider in this area also informed me that the Russians launched their attack too early since Ukraine, unlike Moscow, had changed to summer time the previous evening. The Kremlin mistakenly believed it to be 9.44 a.m. in Mykolaiv, when for the despised Governor Kim, it should have been well into the working day. Now he gives me a third version, saying, “We pushed back our morning meeting by 30 minutes.” It was scheduled to begin at 8.30 a.m.
How were the Russians made aware of the gathering? “I cannot tell whether there were direct traitors involved, but individuals might accidentally divulge such knowledge, and that is sufficient for the adversary to attack.”
I question him about the reports of an impending counteroffensive, which — at the time, I was unaware — was scheduled to start in less than twenty-four hours. He continues, “I don’t know the specifics of the military commander’s plan here, but I can merely tell you that it’s working.”
“We still need additional long-range, high-precision, and ammo.” Both the people and the will are here. However, to complete the work, we need Western expertise and tools. We’re on our own property. Every person is supporting our armed forces. We anticipate a difficult winter, but the occupants will have it worse.
The largest city in a primarily Russian-speaking area is Mykolaiv. However, it did not lay out flowers to greet the invaders. Instead, the Kremlin’s planned march from Crimea up the Black Sea coast to seize Ukraine’s important port of Odesa was blocked by defenders, many of whom were volunteers.
And with that, one of the most notorious men in Ukraine shakes hands and strolls amiably into empty Mykolaiv.
Even though his destroyed administrative headquarters has gained notoriety, it will still need to be destroyed. I’m reminded of Munch’s artwork The Scream’s wide mouth by the enormous hole the air-launched missile has made in it.
After the victims were taken out, the inside remains almost unchanged. Deep glass breaks underfoot, and victims who stumbled out of the damaged chambers left bloody hand prints on the pristine hallway walls.
White boards, lifeless pot plants, kettles, and other office gear are all throughout the corridors.
Dymtro, a territorial defense soldier who “picked up a firearm for the first time in February at the age of 43,” is my tour guide. He would be “surfing my boat with my father” on this gorgeous day if it weren’t for the invasion.
In reality, his family provides a far more profound illustration of how Putin’s adventurism has alienated the Russian-speaking community in this country. He explains: “We here have a lot of cultural and familial ties to Russia as we stroll along Mariupol Street, which was just renamed from “Moscow Street.” One of my relatives is a Russian army officer, and my father’s sibling resides in that country.
You do not, however, despise your uncle. Of course I detest him, he snarls back. I’m pretty familiar with him. He comes here yearly and never saw any fascists, but he continues to support Putin. This conflict is driving us away from Russia, not from our language. There are a relatively small number of people in the city that still favor Russia.
The Ukrainian counteroffensive starts the next morning. Between firing missions, we pass two of the rare HIMARS (Ukraine only has 16 of them), which are traveling in a convoy. The city has a feverish vibe.
To capitalize on the early victories, reservists who were scheduled to work a day of checkpoint duty in the city are being sent to the front.
The Russians then launch a counterattack on Mykolaiv’s core. Twelve missiles manage to get past the local air defenses and land in our neighborhood in a matter of minutes.
There are 12 wounded persons and two fatalities. The exhortation, “Go to the bunkers,” is repeated while the sirens blare. Go to the bunkers with your supplies of food, water, and important papers.
The humid air is thick with the scent of burning.
In the stairway of our building, a lady informs me, “They are punishing us because we are winning.”
Between alarms, a horse carrying a white landau in the manner of Cinderella passes below my window not once, but twice. Oleksandr, my translator, half-jokingly speculates that it may be a fabrication of my mind or a portent that the end of the world is near.
Some people had very fortunate escapes. A large missile nearly missed the building and detonated in the waters below as civilian traffic, including a blue trolley bus, crossed a bridge over the Inhul River 400 meters away from our position, as shown on CCTV video.
The bridge was likely to be destroyed by the Russians in order to prevent it from being utilized to transfer supplies for the counteroffensive. The Ukrainians had set up these bridges for destruction in the spring to halt the Russian advance. The second foot is now wearing the boot.
Later, there were more Russian airstrikes, and a 48-year-old handyman was killed by cluster bombs in the city center of Mykolaiv.
Mykolaiv, the Russian-speaking city that “saved Ukraine,” continues to suffer as the war’s tide may be shifting in the south.