Covering the first 13 months of Russia’s invasion, this fury-filled, important account by the Ukrainian writer turned soldier addresses the difficulty of illuminating war with words
For four years, the Ukrainian writer Oleksandr Mykhed lived in the town of Hostomel, not far from Kyiv. Weekends were idyllic. He and his wife, Olena, would have brunch in a cafe, walk their dog, Lisa, in the forest, and eat prawn curry for dinner. Often, Mykhed started to clean the flat and got distracted. He would pick a book from his library and read a dozen or so random pages. Or he browsed their collection of Ukrainian art.
This agreeable existence came to a halt on 24 February 2022, when Moscow launched its all-out invasion of Ukraine. The couple lived close to Hostomel’s airport. Russian paratroopers tried to seize its runway. Mykhed’s parents – professors of literature – were living down the road in the neighbouring city of Bucha. They watched from their balcony as enemy helicopters clattered above them, an imperious scene that could have come from Apocalypse Now.