Some events in David's life

Today, I am so tired that I can barely remember what I did. But according to the photos, we loaded the car and delivered the supplies somewhere in Dnipro. What I do remember well, however, is a visit to an organization we were interviewing to determine if it is a legitimate entity that Operation Change should support. Three young women (20-25 years old) welcomed us and showed us a four-story nursing home they had set up six months ago when 140 elderly people had to be evacuated from villages in the Donbas region. A group of about ten friends had heard about the need and found an old student dormitory as a solution. Now, these ten friends run the nursing home around the clock entirely as volunteers.

I don't understand how they have managed to accomplish so much in such a short time, but they have secured assistance for new windows, room furnishings, rewired electricity, and renovated plumbing. The students' shower was in the basement, which does not work for elderly people in a building without an elevator. Instead, they have managed to install a shower cabin on each floor. However, even though this is a major improvement, nearly 40 people share each shower.

Each room houses four elderly residents, and while the heating is acceptable, moisture seeps in, so black mold is visible on the walls in almost every room, and there is no ventilation. Since the building lacks an elevator, most residents are confined to their floor. The women’s wish list includes refrigerators. The elderly receive meals served in their rooms twice a day, but any additional food—or leftovers they save—is kept in a bag next to their beds. The women worry about what will happen in the summer when it gets hot in the rooms and the food risks spoiling without the elderly noticing.

Poor girls. What an enormous task they have taken on and what tremendous challenges they are facing. One thing Operation Change can help them with in the near future is bedding. Currently, there are only as many sets of bedding as there are beds, which makes changing them complicated.

Full-day trip to a village southeast of Kharkiv, where we delivered hand sanitizer and stoves to a wonderful group of elderly ladies. A Ukrainian version of a sewing circle - except instead of preparing for a Christmas market, they are making supplies for the war. Their men came to unload the truck. They were a fun bunch as well — lots of instructions flying back and forth, with more focus on brute strength than strategy.

The ladies also take care of two bomb shelters, one of which was used as a torture chamber by the Russians during the occupation of the village. Now, it is once again a shelter, but they are trying to preserve the traces of torture as evidence for future generations.

Once the unloading was done, they treated us to a three-course meal with soup, chicken, and blueberry pie. They were such lovely women, and honestly, I would have loved to stay there for several days. But they were also worried. They spoke about soldiers who hadn’t been able to change their socks for 50 days because they were stuck at the front. They are anxious about what will happen now that Trump has become friends with Putin, but at the same time, they know giving up is not an option—it would only make things worse. They are deeply grateful for the support from Sweden and other countries, even though, in reality, we should be the ones thanking them—for taking on the fight against Russia so that we don’t have to.

Mostly warehouse work today, but we also made a delivery of nearly 100 stoves, which are welded together in Sweden and then sent to Ukraine. These are then distributed to soldiers at the front.

When we are not working, we stay in a house with a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room on the ground floor. In the living room, our leaders have combined an office and a bedroom. Upstairs, the volunteers sleep on mattresses on the floor. It is simple accommodation—relatively fresh furniture but often a bit broken. The house was probably built by enthusiastic amateurs and will likely develop mold problems if it hasn’t already. The windowsills have peeled because condensation runs down from the windows. I’m just glad I don’t own it.

The location of the accommodation and warehouse is secret, and we turn off the GPS on our phones when approaching. Every morning, we check to ensure the vehicles haven’t been mined or tampered with. Each person always carries a first aid kit with supplies optimized for self-bandaging in case of an emergency. We have also trained to bandage ourselves using only one hand. We have protective vests and helmets as well, but we only wear them in dangerous areas. Otherwise, we just bring them in the vehicles.

Yesterday was a full day at the warehouse. Today, we first visited a basement where women produce camouflage nets, mattresses, and pillows for soldiers at the front. One might think it would be more efficient to buy these in a store and send them to the front, but the mattresses and pillows are specially designed to withstand frontline conditions and be easy to carry. Additionally, making them serves as a form of therapy to cope with the anxiety of war.

Next, we delivered stoves to a group that supports the military with supplies. They treated us to coffee and showed us a small exhibition of items they had received from the brigades they supply. Among the exhibits were parts of a Shahed drone, some things the Russians had left behind, and many paintings created by soldiers as part of their rest and recovery at the rear lines of the front.

Before coming to Ukraine, my relatives collected money and entrusted me to put it to good use here. Operation Change collaborates with many Ukrainian partners, one of whom is a builder who repairs bomb-damaged houses so people can continue living in them. He had come across a youth center that had been damaged in an attack. Since only the rooms with intact walls and roofs could still be used, he wished for help to restore the center. Because Operation Change ensures that funds are used correctly, I contributed 4,000 SEK to support the repairs.

Driving east from Dnipro means getting closer to the front line. There are many military vehicles in traffic, and the number of checkpoints increases, but the atmosphere is friendly when we are inspected. I thought the effects of the war would be more visible, but relatively few houses have been hit by bombs this distance from the front. The most apparent scars are windows replaced with plywood, trenches, and tank barriers.

We stayed overnight with a man to whom we delivered batteries. He and his comrades dismantle various batteries, such as those from power drills, and repurpose them into batteries for drones, which they then give to the military. He lives near Sloviansk, an area that was taken over by separatists in 2014 before Ukraine reclaimed it a few months later.

In the morning, we unloaded a ton of hand sanitizer for a woman who then distributes it to the military. While we were there, a bomb struck about a kilometer away. A little later, we were in another church when another bomb hit. This time, we could slightly feel the windows vibrate. As we sat documenting our work, the pastor suddenly paused for a moment and then told us that his friend had been confirmed dead in the first bombing we had heard.

The pastor was scarred by the war. He said he was bitter about what had been inflicted upon them but did not hate the Russians. He saw Russia as an imperialist empire with many different parts, where the only unifying force is military power. He said that as a believer, he was certain that this is the world coming to its end and that he was focused on preparing for his journey to heaven.

On the way home, we passed the checkpoints again. After showing our empty cargo space, I sat on the truck's loading ramp, enjoying the beautiful sunshine while the soldier interviewed me about where we had been, what we had done, who we had met, etc. Some questions were difficult for me to answer, and I offered to retrieve the documents, but that was not necessary. He noted the answers I could provide on his phone and carefully asked if he could take photos of our passports. It was a strange experience that the man with a machine gun across his chest acted as if I was the one holding all the power.

On Monday, a truck arrived from Sweden, which took a few hours to unload. There were clothes, toys, stoves, medical supplies, hand sanitizer, adult diapers, and much more. Hand sanitizer is used in the trenches as fuel for light and warmth. It is evident that women buy far more clothes than men, as significantly more women’s clothing is donated compared to men's. However, we had to take a short break when TV4 conducted a video interview with Bernard, one of the supervisors down here. Once everything was unloaded, we brought forward one of our trucks and loaded it full of supplies destined for Zaporizhzhia. Two others and I ended the day by starting a drive westward.

On Tuesday morning, we reached a city south of Kyiv. There, we received two trucks carrying fishing nets, which were unloaded and handed over to the military. The fishing nets are used for protection against drones.

Today, the truck was packed again, along with a smaller truck. Before the trucks were sent off, we recorded short videos where we explained where we were going and what the truck was loaded with. This is important for generating publicity, which in turn can lead to donations. Mats and I drove the smaller truck eastward to Kramatorsk, where in the evening we reached a church where part of the load was unloaded. The church supervisor kept asking, "Is this also for us?" and eventually became teary-eyed over everything we unloaded. He told us about the internally displaced people who had fled to Kramatorsk from cities further east and whom they were now helping.

I am here assisting Operation Change, a Swedish organization that started with just a few passionate individuals and has since grown to around 120 volunteers. Much of the work is done in Sweden, collecting, packing, and shipping supplies. The efficiency of Operation Change is impressive. Initially, I thought we would be delivering supplies directly to villages, hospitals, orphanages, etc. While this was common in the beginning, they have since built many contacts and now mostly deliver larger loads to individuals who then handle further distribution. Bernard and Jennifer are the "managers" on site, and I am deeply impressed by how they keep track of everything in the warehouse, instruct us on what needs to be done each day, and coordinate with the Ukrainians on what they want delivered in three days. Everything must also be documented. The Ukrainian customs office registers all incoming supplies. Operation Change then has to report where the materials go. That’s why we carry paperwork for each recipient that must be stamped and signed. It is a time-consuming process, but it prevents corruption, and Operation Change has a strict rule that everything must be traceable. Additionally, we take photos of the recipients along with the supplies they receive.

The journey began yesterday with a flight to Rzeszow via Warsaw. Already in Rzeszow, the war made its presence felt, as this is the airport that receives a lot of military equipment destined for Ukraine. Around the airport, anti-aircraft defenses are deployed, and trenches have been built.

Time was a bit tight, so I took a taxi to Przemysl, where I met my fellow volunteer. The station in Przemysl is divided into two parts. One side faces west and has the Western track gauge. The other side faces east and has the broader Eastern track gauge, and to get there, one must pass through passport control.

We settled into sleeper cabins with four beds and got to know a father and his two 15-year-old twin sons. Denis was very happy to speak English. They are Ukrainians but had already been living in Poland before the war. The father and one of the sons happened to be in Ukraine when the war broke out, and instead of being able to board a plane, the father had to drive his son to the border. He himself stayed behind.

The things the father told us were horrific and emotional, and tears came often. In the beginning, they barely had any weapons and were sometimes only armed with knives. One of his worst experiences was helping evacuate children from Mariupol—children who, despite starving, were so traumatized that they didn’t react when given a piece of bread to eat.

He spoke about when he was a sniper and ended up in a situation with Russians both in front and behind him. Wounded, he had to crawl back to safety. After six months of service, he was injured and had to leave the army. Paradoxically, it was a fellow Ukrainian who injured him. They were working on a trench when a soldier fell and landed on his leg so badly that he can no longer serve. The fortunate thing for him is that he still has all his limbs and is relatively mobile. However, the psychological scars are far greater and torment him day and night. Now, they were on their way to Zaporizhzhia, where his mother had been hospitalized.

After a night on the train, we arrived in Dnipro around lunchtime, where we were picked up by the two Swedes who have been here almost permanently since the full-scale invasion began. Within an hour, we were sent on our first task: dropping off a truck at the repair shop and picking up the one that had been fixed.

Otherwise, today has mostly been about information and training. GPS must be turned off when we are at the warehouse, accommodations, or recipients. Vehicles must be parked optimally for evacuation. Photos must not be taken in a way that reveals our location or where we are delivering aid. Yes, there is a lot to learn. Tomorrow, there will be more training and work at the warehouse in preparation for an incoming truck with supplies from Sweden.

For those who don’t know, my employer and I reached an agreement in December that I am "released from work due to lack of work" and will receive a salary for X months before leaving the company. It’s a solution I’m very satisfied with, and I’ve had no trouble keeping myself busy. In fact, this last week has even been quite stressful. Today, I produced 530 promotional mailings for Elena’s company, EKG-expert, under the shining February sun.

My mother’s cousin, Dag, had a lot of Super 8 films that his father, Valfrid, had filmed during the 60s, 70s, and 80s. This fall, we had them digitized, and today we held a screening for the family. Elena prepared the food, with a common theme of Ukraine. She cooked some dishes herself, while Ukrainian refugees provided the rest. Dag planned which films we would watch and acted as a commentator. I took care of the technical setup.

There were 31 of us who got to enjoy rolling wheat fields, tractors, garage relocations, but also girls in miniskirts, weddings, and the family's biggest bow tie. Even though we spent the entire afternoon on this, there are still a few hours of film left to watch, and I realize that I want to watch all of them together with Dag, as his storytelling about what we see on screen is at least half the fun. And today’s screening made it even better, as so many others could contribute their own insights.