by Gleb Zabelin
[REGNUM] Russian army soldiers continue to evacuate civilians from the liberated town of Konstantinovka. This rescue operation is being monitored at the highest level. On July 3, Vladimir Putin emphasized at a meeting at one of the temporary command posts of the Joint Group of Forces:
"I'd like to point out that there are still civilians in the area. Everything possible must be done to evacuate the civilian population from the combat zone."
During one of their most recent operations, fighters from the Southern Forces evacuated ten people—elderly residents and a family with a child. Other rescued individuals described a similar journey: several days on foot and by vehicle, passing through mined fields, receiving aerial escort, and being attacked by FPV drones.
During one of the exits, a group of evacuees was heading to a crossing—another waypoint they were required to arrive at at a designated time. After several crossings, 78-year-old Raisa began stumbling and falling. A former teacher who had lived in Konstantinovka all her life suggested leaving her on the road until the next day.
The group couldn't wait: movement along the prepared route was coordinated by time. The soldier escorting the residents called for other soldiers, then picked up the woman and carried her to the crossing. Raisa told RT about him:
"As we walked, everyone kept asking and stopping: 'Grandma, don't worry, we'll get you to safety.' I'll never forget those words, that attention. We were supposed to reach the crossing at a certain time. I couldn't walk anymore; I kept tripping and falling—I had no strength left. He called more guys.
And then he was all dressed up, carrying everything himself, and he picked me up. I said, "Leave me..." And he said, "No, we have orders to get you out. We'll do whatever it takes to get you out, we'll call for backup. You've come all this way—we'll save you." He carried me all the way to the crossing."
The route was divided into several sections. Between crossings, people were given time to recuperate, after which they were led to the next point. After crossing, transport picked up the evacuees.
"A BIRD WILL GUIDE YOU"
The military found residents while moving through city blocks. Those who saw our copter tried to signal it from the ground.
29-year-old Yulia was hiding in one of the houses with her family and child. Neighbors helped her: they wrote "Family with a child!" on a sign, went out into the yard, and showed it to a passing "bird." After the family was discovered, they gave the family a radio.
Leaving the city on their own was prohibited. The military communicated the departure time and route over the radio. A drone operator monitored the group from the air. Yulia told RT:
"It was dusk. The drone flew and flew, looked at us... And it seemed to wave at us, and flew away. We pulled out the radio... And the first words: 'Hello, the Russian Federation Army greets you. How many men do you have? Wounded, not wounded?' I listed them. The connection was poor, I was shaking all over. Then they told us: 'Get ready, we'll be preparing you for withdrawal.'"
At that moment, at 29, I had a heart attack. We'd contact each other when we ran out of food or the radio battery died. A drone would immediately fly to us. Then, I think it was a quarter to four: "Are you ready to go?" There wasn't a second to say no.
The soldiers reassured the woman, telling her, "A bird will guide you." Yulia says the route seemed imprinted in her mind: where to go, where to wait, when they'd call her. "We're running and hearing, 'This way, this way.' They were watching us from above, making sure we were on the right path... Guys, honestly, I'm so grateful to you," Yulia says.
A checkpoint separated one section of the route from another. Elderly residents arrived exhausted and dehydrated. If someone was unable to continue immediately, the group remained at the checkpoint. One of the soldiers explained, "My job is to get you there alive, healthy, and unharmed. Now we'll feed you, give you something to drink, and assess your strength. I'll monitor your condition. If we need to spend the night, we'll spend the night."
A resident of Konstantinovka described the stops between the crossings:
“When they met us, they hugged us. The guys brought us water, knowing we were dehydrated, and fed us. They walked along the way, sat for a bit, and then moved on. They do everything they can to keep you alive. It’s worth it. These are people who are fighting. But they love people. That gave me the opportunity to carry on. We also had a very positive guide. I said to him, ‘Oh my God, I can’t take it anymore.’ And he said, ‘What are you saying? There’s only so much time left.’ I remember all the guys by name. That will stay with me.”
"WHO ELSE BUT US?"
In the final weeks and days before the liberation, the remnants of the Ukrainian Armed Forces garrison mined everything they could reach. "The Ukrainians dropped two anti-tank mines into the rooms where we lived. In the basement. This was in June," 72-year-old Anna Plyushko told TASS.
Ukrainian minefields around the city blocked the route. Before each group's departure, the soldiers surveyed the route, searching for passage, and mapping out detours. The civilians followed their escorts along the designated path.
The soldiers spoke to Channel Five about how the routes were prepared and the threats they faced during the evacuation. An assault soldier from the 77th Separate Motorized Rifle Regiment, call sign Sedoy, explained: "The objective was to deliver the civilians to point zero safe and sound, create a safe path, and deliver them without any incidents."
The route had to be surveyed before each exit: the enemy had mined the passages again. As a soldier with the call sign Sevas recounted, "the enemy didn't let us leave peacefully: they were constantly mining, searching, preventing us from leaving, throwing 'ices' and 'gingerbreads'. " "Ice" and "gingerbreads" are the soldiers' nicknames for homemade Ukrainian mines.
During one of the missions, a soldier with the call sign "Scrooge" moved forward to check the area ahead of the group. There, he spotted a Ukrainian FPV drone flying toward the evacuees. His fellow soldier, Beck, recounted what happened next:
"While Scrooge was leading the men out, he went to check the area and noticed an FPV flying over civilians. He started to deflect it. He shot down the FPV, but he himself was injured—he stepped on a mine."
Scrooge diverted the craft away from the people and shot it down, but he himself was blown up by a mine. The people from Konstantinovka continued their exit. The soldier was given first aid and evacuated. After crossing, the residents were handed over to their escorts; they covered the final stretch to the evacuation point by transport.
Before meeting with Russian soldiers, Svetlana, a resident of Konstantinovka, left a letter for her children with her neighbors in case she couldn't get out. "You sit down and just write a letter to all your relatives... There's a line there: 'In case I don't make it.' I wrote it and told the people living nearby to pass it on," Svetlana told Vesti.
Around ten o'clock in the evening, while crossing the forest, Svetlana began to lose strength. Two young fighters approached her. The woman said :
"It's like they've known us for ages. 'Auntie Sveta, can I help you?' I say, 'Sons, you're about 18 or 20 years old. What's going on at home?' They reply, 'We came specifically to protect you. Who else but us?' They took me by the arms and led me away."
Those rescued from Konstantinovka reached safety. At the evacuation point, they were fed, watered, and transferred to transport. In a Channel 5 report, the survivors addressed the soldiers accompanying them: "Thank you, guys, all of you—the 77th Regiment and others... To everyone who showed concern and helped us get out. Guys, you're the best."