A Casual Drone Attack in Kyiv

Kyiv, Ukraine, November 26, 2023

By: Daniel Miller

It’s a common occurrence in cities west of Ukraine’s Donbas region to hear the strident and disconcerting sounds of an air raid siren multiple times a day. My first stop after traveling by bus from Slovakia was Lviv, a city predominantly governed by Poland and the Habsburgs, and later incorporated into the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic after the defeat of the Nazis in 1944. I wasn’t far from my downtown apartment when I first heard the sound on my second day there. Businesses quickly shuffled patrons outside and locked the doors, while many people continued roaming the streets as if they suffered from hearing problems. Fearing what was happening but feeling the need for confirmation, I asked a couple of girls walking by what the sound meant.

“Umm, it means you should probably seek shelter as soon as you can,” one replied, possibly wondering why I was choosing to visit a country under attack in the first place. Here is a video I took while in Kyiv one night while the siren was sounding. Make sure the volume is up:

It had been five months since the city last experienced any kind of attack from the invading Russian forces, which is likely why everyone seemed a bit jaded and annoyed instead of switching to panic mode and seeking shelter. While aerial attacks are more likely to occur at night and there was still plenty of daylight left, I decided to heed her advice and go back to my apartment.

I spent a week in the city – most of it in the Old Town – walking around, exploring its history, and viewing the unfortunate memorials and murals dedicated to fallen soldiers and slaughtered civilians. The Old Town area emanates a vibe that resembles its medieval past and even became a UNESCO Heritage site in 1998, while other parts resemble an era reminiscent of the early part of the twentieth century.

After my week was over in Lviv, I took a seven-hour day train to Kyiv and arrived a couple of hours after dark, settling into my shared downtown apartment after a brief cab ride. Temperatures dropped to below freezing at night and the ground was covered in snow, meaning that people were using more gas and electricity than a few months prior. Unbeknownst to me, there were small drone attacks the night before and the night I arrived. Around ten drones each night, all of them being shot down by the air defense system provided by the United States.

The attacks barely made the news. I decided not to think much of it since nobody else seemed to care and went about exploring the surprisingly vibrant and modernized city. Skyscrapers are all over the downtown business district and have similar aesthetics to what I saw in certain parts of Central Europe, Warsaw, and Copenhagen. One would have no clue that there was a war going on a few hundred kilometers east if they didn’t read the news. But then again, what else was everyone supposed to do besides continue to live their lives and hope for the best?

A couple of days later, I rented a cheap private hostel room with a balcony in the northern part of the expansive city. I made friends with a girl named Alina, from Poltava, which is less than two hours from the razed city of Kharkiv, who gave me a tour of a few of Kyiv’s most popular attractions.

We first stopped at the base of the hill that houses the ancient and majestic Saint Sophia Cathedral, an architectural masterpiece and UNESCO World Heritage site that stands as one of Kyiv’s most cherished landmarks. Renowned for its stunning mosaics and frescoes, the cathedral was constructed in the early 11th century under the leadership of Grand Prince Yaroslav the Wise, whose reign transformed the city into a prominent cultural and intellectual hub.

About twenty minutes east is the 50-meter-high (164 feet), four-decades-old Arch of Friendship, also known as the People's Friendship Arch, located in Khreshchatyk Park that overlooks the Dnieper River. A notable monument originally intended to symbolize the unity between Ukraine and Russia as part of the Soviet Union, the Arch of Friendship had a large crack painted on it in 2016, two years after Russia’s annexation of Crimea. This crack symbolizes the breaking of ties between Ukraine and Russia and reflects the country's move towards independence and distancing itself from its Soviet past.

Our last stop for the day was at Independence Square, the main site of the Euromaidan Revolution, also known as the Revolution of Dignity, in which a series of protests took place from November 2013 to February 2014 after President Viktor Yanukovych suspended an EU association agreement in favor of closer ties with Russia. The peaceful protests quickly turned violent after Yanukovych provoked them by instituting severe government crackdowns on dissenters that included imprisonments for participating in protests, internet censorship, and criminalization of dissent.

The Ukrainian people showed their inherent resilience – as they have done historically and continue to do today – and eventually forced Yanukovych to flee to Russia, leaving behind his lavish estate in Mezhyhirya, located just outside Kyiv. The estate epitomized his corrupt regime and opulent lifestyle at the expense of the Ukrainian people, which featured luxurious buildings, a private zoo, a golf course, and extensive gardens spread out across hundreds of acres.

The Euromaidan was a major turning point in Ukraine’s collective determination to sever ties with its autocratic neighbor and become more integrated with a democratic Europe. This is something that Putin and other Russian nationalists refuse to acknowledge and fail to comprehend. In their eyes, Ukraine is Russia and there is no Ukrainian identity, they are simply stubborn Western Russians.

I continued exploring the city over the next few days. The air raid sirens were more common in Kyiv than they were in Lviv, and continued to be ignored by most people. Businesses still closed their doors for a while, but everyone continued about their day as much as they could. It was easy for me to quickly become jaded by the sound as well, and when I was awakened by the siren at 3:30 am on November 25th, I was more annoyed that it woke me up than I was worried. My annoyance later turned into confusion at 5:00 am when I felt disoriented by the sounds of fireworks.

“Why the hell are people shooting off fireworks at this hour?" Then it hit me: I was in Kyiv, and there was an air raid siren earlier. The sound I was hearing wasn’t fireworks at all. The city was under attack from Russian forces. Confused and unsure of what to do, I instinctively turned to Twitter (I’m never calling it “X”) for real-time updates. Locals described a massive Shahed drone attack, but thankfully, all of them had been shot down by the air defense system so far.

Since the metro stations provide plenty of safe coverage, many people seek shelter there in case of an attack. A lot of them lived there for over a month after the war started when Russia occupied territory a few kilometers from the city limits and frequently attacked the city. The nearest station was about a ten-minute walk, which I could reach in about three minutes if I ran. Already dressed, I contemplated whether or not I should stay where I was or risk going outside. Opting to stay, I reasoned that all drones so far had been intercepted, and sunrise was only half an hour away, likely signaling the end of attacks. Instead of just sitting there, worrying, I decided that I might as well get some recordings of the sounds from my balcony. After all, it didn’t matter if a drone landed on me or in front of me, the end result would be the same.

As I was recording, I heard the sound of gunfire coming above me from a nearby rooftop of a tall apartment building. You can see the purple tracer bullets 40 seconds into the video:

Sure enough, the attacks stopped once the sun started rising, despite people claiming on Twitter that one or two more waves were on the way. Seventy-five Iranian-made drones were unleashed that night, seventy-one of which were shot down. The ones that weren’t shot down were targets outside the city, and there was damage to only a few buildings. Thankfully, there were no deaths. It was the largest attack on the city since the war began, and it came on the day that Ukraine honors the millions of victims who perished during the forced Holodomor famine by Joseph Stalin, which is considered by many to be a genocide. It was an order by Putin that was as vicious as it was symbolic.

As daylight approached, more and more cars started filling the streets in what seemed like an act of defiance. “You want to attack us? Go ahead, we will continue ignoring you until something actually happens.”

I waited until the reception opened to ask where the best place would be to seek shelter. The hostel was owned and operated by a family who worked all day, every day. The exasperated wife looked at me and said, “There was an attack? I didn’t notice. I don’t have time for it. If you want to seek shelter, you can go to the metro station or you can go to the apartment building across the street.”

Her attitude, along with the composed demeanor of the drivers on the street, encapsulated the sentiments of many Ukrainians. They are angry and annoyed at what’s happening, but not scared; they’re too busy for that. After a nap, I headed into the city center to see if anything had changed or if there was any damage.

No matter where I went, everyone was out and about, minding their own business as if nothing had ever happened. Alina said she never even woke up and didn’t know anything about it. I stuck around Kyiv for another eight days, but every night I felt the need to stay up until around 3:00 am or longer in case of another attack. Thankfully, nothing happened the rest of my time there, but it did throw my circadian rhythm off for a while.

The next day, I paid a visit to the museum underneath the imposing Rodina-Mat Motherland, a 102-meter (335 feet) statue overlooking the Dnieper River that stands as a tribute to the Soviet Union's victory in World War II and serves as a symbol of Ukrainian resilience and strength. Completed in 1981, the stainless steel marvel is the 18th-tallest statue in the world. For comparison, the Statue of Liberty is 95 meters (305 feet) tall. The statue represents the Motherland calling its sons and daughters to defend the country, embodying the spirit of patriotism and sacrifice. Until recently, the shield was emblazoned with the Soviet logo featuring the hammer and sickle, but it was replaced by the Ukrainian Coat of Arms.

While I was touring the museum, the air raid siren started sounding again, which prompted the museum officials to direct us down into the basement. Thankfully, there was no attack and we were able to continue after waiting for about 45 minutes

A few days later, I contacted a man named Oleksandr in the once-occupied suburb of Irpin, who had also participated in the Euromaidan. He kindly drove me around the neighboring suburb of Bucha and showed me where Russia occupied and decimated the infrastructure and slaughtered hundreds of civilians during the first month of the war. Russian forces entered from the north through Belarus on February 24th in a surprise offensive and occupied most of the oblast until April 3rd.

Around Kyiv, there are many museums dedicated to the current war and the ongoing Ukrainian struggle to extricate itself from the grip of Russian nationalists who refuse to accept the fact that more people prefer democracy and freedom over autocracy and subjugation. It’s been almost two and a half years since Russian forces initiated its full-fledged assault on Ukraine and, unfortunately, there is no end in sight. The war has turned into one of attrition, with morale rising and falling on both sides. But Russia has turned itself into a pariah state because of this. Its economy is declining as more countries cut economic ties while the collective West has vowed to continue supporting its democratic neighbor by all means necessary.

The Ukrainian people possess an indomitable will that is rarely seen in most other places around the world. They would rather die than leave their homes behind and refuse to be forced into identifying as Russian. They are fighting not only for the land that Russia has acknowledged in treaties and agreements since the Soviet Union's dissolution but also for the fundamental rights of liberty and self-determination. Vladimir Putin must be defeated, and he certainly will be. Slava Ukraini.


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