“Vladimir Putin said Russia will be here forever. In the end they left in five minutes and they left like goats,” Melnikov told the Observer, the first newspaper to reach Mylove since her release late Thursday. He added: “Putin wanted to kill us. He ended up destroying his country. Russia’s retreat from Kherson is a huge failure.” Melnikov opened the neighboring gate and pointed to the open shed where the Russians had cooked their meals and hung out in the evenings. They left behind coffee cups, cigarette butts and a glass jar of tomatoes. Garbage and green packets of army rations were strewn about. “They had a radio broadcasting set with aerials and used a warehouse to keep their mortars,” he said. The final moments of the occupation were tinged with resentment. On their way out, Russian troops blew up the school and kindergarten buildings of the village where they lived, and destroyed the radio tower. On Saturday the kindergarten looked like a pile of concrete. a sign posted outside read: “Nails.” They fired the Mylove Pass over a tributary of the Dnipro River and other key pieces of infrastructure. Ukrainian special forces swept in on Thursday night. By Friday morning the residents had put up blue and yellow flags and were celebrating the first hours of their freedom. They hugged Ukrainian soldiers with yellow armbands and offered them homemade pastries. “Our children are heroes. God was watching over us,” said Melnikov’s mother-in-law, Liudmyla. “It was difficult. I didn’t get my pension or my blood pressure tablets.’ A woman greeting a Ukrainian soldier in the village of Mylove. The writing on the gate reads “People – Children”. Photo: Jelle Krings/The Observer There were similar scenes of jubilation in Kherson, the capital of the province, which Moscow captured in the first days of March. Locals danced around a bonfire outside the regional administration building, sang patriotic songs and chanted “ZSU”, the initials of the victorious armed forces of Ukraine. Cars honked their horns. Citizens held banners decorated with watermelons, the much-loved fruit of the Kherson region. The last few days have been a disaster for Moscow. They suggest that Putin’s bold military plan to conquer Ukraine failed, as it did with hubris and magical thinking. His army could not conquer Kyiv and Kharkiv. It has now lost control of its only functioning major city. Demonstrators demonstrated in the spring against Russian rule and on Friday took to the streets again, rejoicing in its demise. Last week’s Russian retreat was a dark affair, announced by Putin’s hapless Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu. The last soldiers disabled the Antonivskiy Bridge, which Ukraine had targeted with US-supplied Himars missiles, and ran in panic to a pontoon crossing. Another bridge was cut at the Kakhovka hydroelectric station, leading to the occupied town of Nova Kakhovka. These were historic scenes. The war, however, is far from over. On Friday, loud booms could be heard on the Dnipro River. Russian soldiers – many of them recently mobilized – are digging defensive positions on the left bank. The two armies now face an expanse of water that stretches hundreds of kilometers. Russia still controls the southern part of Kherson province and a land corridor stretching to Mariupol and eastern Donbas. In Mylove, Serhii Demchuk pointed across the Dnipro to Russian-controlled territory just eight kilometers away. Visible in the fog was the village of Hornostaivka, on the other side of the Kakhovka Reservoir. From somewhere nearby, came the impact of a Ukrainian grad missile, fired at the retreating Russian troops. “You get used to the explosions,” Demchuk said. His wife, Alesia, said: “No you don’t. It is terrible”. A long column of Ukrainian vehicles, including several T-72 tanks, drove through a late autumn landscape of black sunflower fields. The dirt road passed abandoned Russian trenches and piles of artillery shells. The Russians had left behind broken infantry fighting vehicles. Garbage of civilian cars marked with a “Z” – the letter representing Putin’s faltering invasion – lay on a lawn. Damage to the former local authority building in Mylove. Photo: Jelle Krings/The Observer The Ukrainian soldiers were euphoric. “Our morale is high. We know why we fight. This is our land,” said 28-year-old Serhii. He said his hometown of Oleshky – across the Kherson River – was still under Russian occupation. “We’re going to get Oleshky back and everything else,” he predicted. Next to his checkpoint were two burnt-out Russian tanks and the village council building, a Ukrainian flag on a pole. Melnikov said the village originally housed 1,000 people. Between 300 and 400 remained after the Russian takeover. He said: “We asked them why they had come. They answered me: “To make your life better.” When they left, we had gone back in time 30 years. Now we have no electricity, gas or water. Everyone is broke and there are no jobs. Instead of waging war, Putin could have built the roads and hospitals in his country.” The first enemy troops stationed in Mylove were Russian proxies from the so-called Donetsk People’s Republic, the DNR. Their Armenian-born commander was fired for illegally selling gasoline intended for his vehicles. “The next batch was worse. They broke into shops and houses, looking for alcohol. They said they wanted booze and girls. They were dirty, unkempt and often drunk,” Melnikov said. “Like bums. They stole everything they could.” In the city of Kherson and other settlements, the Russians tortured and executed civilians, including police officers, ex-combatants and government employees. Melnikov said they arrested two teenagers in March after they tore down three new Russian, communist and DNR flags from the Soviet war memorial. “An officer put them up against a wall and shot them over the heads. They were made to dig trenches as punishment,” he said. Serhiy Milnikov in Mylove. Photo: Jelle Krings/The Observer He said about 10 villagers actively cooperated with the Russians. One, Tetiana Surzhik, became the new pro-Moscow “mayor”. He advised the soldiers where they could live and gave them the addresses of properties that were vacant. The partners left last week, he said, with the guards. They included a local woman who fell in love with a Russian officer and married him over the summer, he added. A few people were members of the resistance. Melnikov said he would sit on his roof – overlooking a yard of geese – and watch Russian military equipment pass by. He sent the coordinates by mobile phone to his son who lives in the city of Dnipro. He then promoted them to the Ukrainian army. “On one occasion I spotted a Russian missile launcher system. Sent a message. Everything happened very quickly. Ten minutes later it was destroyed,” he said. Putin’s effort to bring Russkiy Mir, or the Russian world, to Mylove took 245 days, he pointed out. “I was here from start to finish. What surprised me is how many of Putin’s warriors seemed unfamiliar with toilets and paved roads. They arrived saying we are Nazis. When they left, it was clear to everyone that they were the Nazis. They destroyed everything.”
