Vitaliy Asinenko watched anxiously as his friend sat on a crane, hovering over power lines in a village just a few kilometers from the front line in eastern Ukraine.
The air turned static as a blanket of clouds rolled toward the horizon, but the 46-year-old electrician’s worries were bigger than the storm.
“In weather like this, you can’t see the bombs coming,” he said, his helmet strapped to his head.
For months, Russia has attacked Ukraine’s fragile energy grid and power plants with airstrikes, cutting off electricity to millions of people in what Kyiv calls a war crime.
Along with a team at Ukrainian energy operator DTEK, Mr Vitaliy has been tasked with repairing the damage caused by Moscow’s routine attacks near Pokrovsk, a town less than 15 kilometers east of the Russian advance.
“We need to make sure that civilian shelters and humanitarian aid distribution points have strength,” Mr Vitaliy said. All around are the ruins of buildings scarred by artillery, a reminder that Russia has closed in as its soldiers advance in the eastern Donbas region.
‘Possible targets’
“Three months ago, it was much quieter,” Mr. Vitaliy said. “Today, there is a risk of drones going missing, so it is very dangerous,” he said.
He said his team had become a “target” like the military, and that several of his colleagues had been injured in the area.
Meters above in the basket of a Soviet-era crane, Mr. Vitaliy’s friend quickly cut and connected the mass of copper wire torn by shrapnel.
In the distance, an explosive boom rang out.
“He’s a rocket,” Mr Vitaliy said confidently from his position on the ground, a flicker of worry appearing in his eyes before returning to work.
The team admits that everyone is scared, but they can recognize the sounds of war.
“We listen to the hum of drones and artillery fire, so we know just how dangerous the situation is,” Mr. Vitaliy explained.
The team’s work was never-ending, with more bombs falling in the east every day.
Electricity is a precious resource for soldiers and civilians near the front lines, many of whom are aging and need electricity to keep the water running.
Add difficulty
Repairs have been made more difficult by the Russian use of highly destructive glide bombs, in the rise over three months ago, the head of the local village administration, Volodymyr Rudenko, said.
“The front is closer,” the 60-year-old said, warning that Russia was advancing on Pokrovsk at “about 100 meters a day”. He urged residents to leave.
Relatively unscathed before May, the village’s pre-war population of less than 3,000 has now fallen by about half, with only miners and elderly residents remaining.
In the debris-strewn streets, 77-year-old Vira walks around the village with a friend, inspecting the damage caused during the night.
The electricity in his street is still not restored.
“My pension is only a little, what do you want? Where are you going?” she asked, pulling her scarf tighter over her head.
He explained that he lived in two houses for fear of bombs, and had a garden where two or three cabbages were still growing.
Mr. Vitaliy, who leads a team of electricians, is humble about the work he does.
“We are here for them. If it wasn’t for the civilians, we wouldn’t be here,” he said.
“Heroes”, as the locals call them, try not to stay too long at the site, even though they are used to facing explosions.
“You are brave… or stupid,” Mr. Vitaliy said with a smile.
Suddenly, the shell tore in the air with a whistle, the force of the explosion sent the worker on the crane crouching in the basket. “Let’s get out of here! Come on!” Mr. Vitaliy shouted as he hit his men.
The electricians ran to the armored vehicle, as the crane quickly backed away.
He said he will be back tomorrow.
But his efforts were not in vain. The next day, the village fell.
