The Russian-Ukrainian war has raged for eleven years, bringing with it daily scenes of atrocities and the unmatched heroism of defenders. These stories shift constantly, like a kaleidoscope, overwhelming the human mind. Yet the world still remembers the terror of those first days when Russian forces invaded. Cities and villages like Hostomel found themselves in the path of destruction.
This is the story of Kateryna Brodatska, a software tester, and how her family narrowly escaped the hell that engulfed her hometown.
The war blindsided my husband Oleksandr and me while we were briefly away on business. The news that Russia had attacked Ukraine and was advancing on Kyiv felt like a punch to the gut—our nine-year-old daughter Nastya and my mother were at home, in Hostomel.
From the moment we learnt that war had broken out, our only thought was to reach Hostomel as quickly as possible. Planes had stopped flying to Ukraine (we had tickets for February 24), so after reaching Poland, we hurried to Lviv to stay with friends who had agreed to shelter us.
At that time, the border was clogged with kilometre-long queues of people fleeing Ukraine. But we weren’t the only ones returning; many men were heading back to defend their homeland. Though friends and family warned us not to go to war-torn Hostomel, what can stop parents when their child is in danger?
For those who remember the terror of those early hours, I only need to say that we lived near the infamous Hostomel airfield to explain our fear. The Russians targeted it as a key launching point for their assault on Kyiv. Despite the heroic efforts of our defenders, they were outnumbered and forced to retreat.
From the first moments, enemy helicopters and bombers circled our homes, and constant fighting cut off electricity, water, gas, and communication. Our high-rise apartment block, like so many others, lacked a bomb shelter. Communication was reduced to brief, fragile messages: “alive and well.” My mother was able to reach us by charging her phone from a neighbour’s car, but the signal was painfully weak.
On February 27, we finally made it to Lviv, but getting to out mother and daughter in Kyiv and Hostomel was a nightmare. People who had fled Kyiv warned us not to go back. The occupiers had swarmed the city like locusts.
My husband left for Kyiv on February 29. He convinced me to stay behind, saying it would be easier for him to move alone. Those were the darkest days of my life. Alone in Lviv, not knowing if my daughter, my mother, or even my husband were alive, I couldn’t eat, drink, or sleep. The fear swallowed me whole. Every minute felt like dying a little more inside.
When Oleksandr finally reached Kyiv on March 1, the chaos was overwhelming. At the train station, there was mass panic. His first thought was to retrieve our car from Boryspil airport, but when he arrived, they wouldn’t let him in. A taxi driver, after hearing about our nightmare, refused to take any money for the ride. People showed such kindness amidst the horror.
Oleksandr turned to Facebook, hoping for help. Thankfully, friends in the Kyiv Territorial Defence responded. But for two agonising days, they couldn’t give the green light for him to move forward. Desperate, on March 3, Sasha decided to risk everything and go alone.
He walked for kilometres under the deafening roar of artillery, bombs, and gunfire. Ukrainian soldiers warned him over and over that he was risking his life, but nothing could stop him. For nothing can stop a father who must save his child. The soldiers finally showed him the safest path and covered him with fire as he crossed those final, excruciating meters to our home.
When Sasha reached our building, street fighting had turned Hostomel into a battlefield. Explosions echoed through the streets. As much as he wanted to rush us to safety, it wasn’t possible. Just then, Russian tanks and APCs began shelling our house. A shell hit the apartment above us, setting it ablaze. The next one struck the children’s room—where our daughter, Nastya, was hiding—but miraculously lodged in the wall without exploding. I could hear her screams over the phone as I screamed at them to flee immediately.
Before they left, Sasha and an elderly neighbour shut off the gas, knowing the building could explode at any moment. They tried to put out the fire in the nearby apartment but couldn’t. In a final act of courage, Sasha persuaded two families to join them in evacuating.
They took nothing but the family dog and cat. Together, they began the perilous journey across a ruined bridge strewn with bodies, while a sniper picked off civilians trying to escape. The refugees moved slowly, their every step dogged by Russian tanks. When they reached our soldiers, the defenders stripped off their own bulletproof vests and put them on the children.
My husband and daughter eventually made it to Kyiv, where they stayed a day before fleeing to Lviv by train. Later, we learnr that just minutes after they left Hostomel, a fierce battle erupted, killing many civilians who had stayed behind. The Russian occupiers took those who survived hostage, torturing and killing them. Torture chambers appeared in nearby Bucha.
My heart nearly gave out when the train carrying my family finally arrived in Lviv. Volunteers helped us reunite under the cover of night.
Nastya later told me she had stepped over charred human bones as they fled, scavenged water from wells, and sheltered in basements while enemy helicopters rained death on the city. She has worked with a psychologist since. The scars run deep, but we are together now, and that’s all that matters.
Since November 2022, we have been living in Krakow. My daughter now attends school, finally socialising, and I hope those dark memories will fade.
People tell me I look better now. I’m still far from the calm person I used to be, but I’m trying. I’m living again, and for the first time in a long while, I’ve started to sleep at night.
I believe in our victory. We will be reborn, stronger than ever.
Ukrainians cannot be broken.
Olena Oliynyk recorded Kateryna Brodatska’s story.
Olena Oliynyk wrote down what Kateryna Borodatska said
*On the cover used a photo courtesy of Kateryna Borodatskaya and a Getty Images photo of Hostomel during the Russian attack
Supported by the U.S. Embassy in Ukraine. The views of the authors do not necessarily reflect the official position of the U.S. Government.
