Thrice walked amidst bullets”: Stories of Ukrainian railway workers

Work.ua, in collaboration with Ukrzaliznytsia, aims to share some stories of railway workers who, at the cost of their own lives, saved others and brought us closer to victory.

From the very first day of the full-scale war, all Ukrainians learned that true “iron people” live and work among them for many years.

From the first hours, risking their own lives, they helped others without rest, under fire, in extremely challenging conditions.

The Ukrainian railway became known as the true “road of life.” Evacuation trains became a lifeline for millions of people.

During Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Ukrzaliznytsia evacuated around 4 million citizens, including nearly a million children.

In the toughest days, they transported around 100,000 people per day.

The world acknowledged that courage and selflessness are a Ukrainian national resource.

The selflessness of every railway worker, engineer, train conductor, and train attendant who, under fire, did everything to keep the trains moving.

The selflessness of station workers, factories, and depots that saved, repaired, and produced to help Ukraine withstand, as stated by Ukrzaliznytsia representatives.

The President of Ukraine referred to Ukrzaliznytsia workers as “iron people” with courage and kind hearts.

We remember the evacuation – stories of saving lives, stories of the life of stations and trains, stories of bridge and track repairs, stories of preserving rolling stock and saving locomotives, stories of hauling burning tank cars, and stories of blocking the movement of enemy vehicles, as added by UZ representatives.

Irina Yurchenko – the conductor of the “Kyiv-Uzhhorod” train

Irina Yurchenko’s story begins as a member of a family of superheroes. She is the mother of “Azov” fighter Dmitry “Orest” Kozatsky, whose photos were seen worldwide.

“A child is in distress! She’s dying, please, do something, help,” cries the pale mother, herself still very young.

The baby, just two years old, has a high fever. There are two more young children nearby. They need to be separated.

“Don’t panic, dear. I’ll take care of it.”

Irina calls her friend, a conductor in the adjacent car.

“Galya, what should I do?”

“An ampoule of medicine needs to be administered immediately. I have one, but only one. How can we pass it?” her friend says.

“Attention, this is the ‘life ampoule’! It needs to be carefully passed through the train cars to the last one,” Galya shouts to the people in her car.

And people pass it from hand to hand. Irina receives the medicine. Her hands are trembling. It’s the last ampoule.

“It will be okay, dear,” she says to the almost unconscious mother, “we’ll get through this. Hang in there. We’ll make it!” And I silently scream about myself and pray with that scream.

I pretend that this isn’t my first time and that I know what to do with these ampoules. I open it, pour it into the child’s mouth, and hold the semi-conscious mother close to me. In about twenty minutes, the child opens her eyes. They are saved. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake…

I hide in the bathroom. I exhale so no one sees my state. There’s an SMS from my son: “Mom, we’re surrounded. I’m at Azovstal.” I breathe. I try to calm down. I put on a smile and go back to the train car to reassure the passengers.

That’s when I learned to scream silently… And the photos of my son cry out about Ukraine’s unwavering fight, they cry out to the whole world at the top of their lungs! In September 2022, I was already hugging my Dmitry after his release from captivity. Because I believed. Just as I believe in our Victory!

Irina Yurchenko, along with her son, the defender of “Azovstal,” Dmitry “Orest.”

Vitaliy Nikon – the engineer of locomotive ChME3 № 5516

On the night of February 25 to 26, 2022, Vitaliy received the command to head to the “Kyiv-Passenger” station.

Near the Vozduhoflot Bridge, our locomotive ChME3 № 5516 came under fire from saboteurs who managed to reach the central part of the city.

One of the bullets damaged critical equipment, causing the locomotive to lose power and simply roll. It eventually came to a stop on the throat of the station, blocking the exit for other trains where thousands of Ukrainians were waiting for rescue.

So, resolute and swift action was required.

The provision of “first railway technical assistance” took us no more than fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes under fire. Our “wounded” steel friend probably wanted to escape from this hell as quickly as possible too! We repaired it. It recovered, and our trusty locomotive didn’t let us down.

We cleared the station’s throat for other trains, mostly adhering to the schedule.

Almost according to the schedule. Because people at the station didn’t know what was behind those fifteen minutes of delay. It felt like an eternity.

I’ve walked three times under bullets. I survived. And we will all endure!

Andrey Nechaev – track maintenance worker at the Nezhin District

Every morning since the beginning of the war, I have been inspecting and examining thirteen kilometers of railway track on my section. Not only during air raid sirens, but also under fire. It had to be done, someone had to perform this work.

I identified track damage or other issues and communicated with the management.

That’s how I started passing on information about the movement of enemy equipment and troops.

I met the locals and greeted them with a password: “Rushnytsia, palianytsia, Ukrzaliznytsia”.

Once, I reported a blown-up bridge. Trains were rerouted. I saved precious time for evacuation. Perhaps more than just time.

But my inspections caught the attention of enemy patrols. I was detained by the occupiers more than once.

And there would be questioning at each encounter, stripping down, searches for tattoos and wounds.

Sometimes they took my backpack with personal items, even my salary card.

After the liberation of our territory from the invaders, I inspected the sections several times.

I warned about craters, remnants of rockets, unexploded ordnance on the railway tracks, and mines.

You simply have to do everything you can in your own place. We’re just doing our jobs.

These are just a few stories of Ukrzaliznytsia workers among the many everyday heroism stories. It’s from such small stories of ordinary people who were “just doing their jobs” that the collective Great History of our path to Victory is formed!

Dear Ukrainian Railway Workers! The informational portal Railway Supply congratulates you on your professional holiday and thanks you! Take care, Iron People!

Photo: work.ua