An update from Rev’d Paul Kennedy
Initially I was hoping to take out a pickup truck and supplies, perhaps joining some other vehicles.
Having shared my plans, this grew: two ambulances; one pickup; six drivers; and floor to ceiling supplies were taken out. The tunnel gave us free travel and a charity bought the vehicles with the money raised. We stayed one night in Germany in a private house and one night in Krakow in a supply hub. Costs were kept to a minimum and these were safe places for the vehicles.
Having crossed the boarder, we were hosted for two nights at the Catholic University in the western city of Lviv. The crypt of the chapel had sandbags in all it’s windows as it doubled up as a shelter for the university. One of the priests took me out for a “sherry” which felt very Church of England. I soon realised that it was “cherry” a local liqueur and very Ukrainian. We delivered some supplies to Lviv.
Driving onto Kyiv, we arrived in the midst of, an all too frequent, power cut, traffic lights were down and we had to edge our vehicles out into the flow of traffic. That night, soldiers took the pickup to deliver to Kharkiv. They were so grateful and I felt humbled by their courage and determination. The feeling I often had during this trip was; if only I could have done more. In the morning an ambulance was picked up for Dnipro and a couple of days later the other ambulance was delivered to Kharkiv.
I stayed in the apartment where our Ukrainian guest family lived on the 14th floor of a tower block. I was with Alex, the husband and father. It was a bit disconcerting during frequent night air raids as all we could do was move away from the windows. There are not enough shelters for so many people. As well as sirens outside, there is a phone app which gives details in English. Most people are used to the sirens, and response is limited.
As well as delivering supplies and vehicles, I was able to stay in Ukraine for two weeks and celebrated the Eucharist at the Anglican chaplaincy in Kyiv. It was the first Eucharist for over a year; the last time being when Archbishop Justin Welby visited Kyiv.
I also attended the military funeral of Arsen Fedosenko. Before the war, Arsen was a wine enthusiast and a photographer. Once he enlisted, his photographs changed: bottles of wine waiting to be drunk became Molotov cocktails waiting to be thrown; bottles laid down became shells. There is a brutal beauty in his photography.
Every graveyard has an “Alley of Heroes” where service personnel are buried with too many new Ukrainian flags flying but the most distressing place was Bucha where there was a mass grave; the names went on for many panels although bodies were often unidentifiable.
I am enormously grateful to all who supported this trip. I met exhaustion and determination; courage and grief; defiance in the face of the aggression, and pragmatism with power cuts and water running dry. All who we met were embarrassingly thankful for the modest contribution that we made. Thank you to all who helped. You have made a real difference and maybe saved lives.
Rev’d Paul Kennedy