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Ukraine: Four Years of War Through the Eyes of the SVD Confreres
Stories compiled by Szymon Golabek
Staying with people when lights go out
Wojciech Żółty SVD (Wierzbowiec, Vinnytsia District)
To be honest, I didn’t even realize that it has already been four years since the war broke out. But that doesn’t mean we are indifferent. From day one until today, we have been there for the people we serve and who live in Wierzbowiec and the surrounding area.
I regularly travel to eastern Ukraine with humanitarian aid. I have been there 14 times. Recently, for various reasons beyond my control, I have been going less frequently. I have experienced many difficult situations, including drones flying overhead. There were also moments when we came under fire, but I do not want to write about that.
At our Shrine of St. Michael the Archangel in Wierzbowiec, together with the SSpS Sisters, we occasionally organize retreats for families who have lost loved ones in the war.
We are currently going through a very difficult time because we have no electricity for up to 20 hours a day. Thanks to the enormous help of the Ełk branch of Caritas, including Bishop Jerzy Mazur, SVD, as well as support from the Generalate of the Divine Word Missionaries in Rome and the Polish Province of the SVD, I was able to purchase firewood, gas cylinders, and gas stoves for those most in need. We also provide food, cleaning supplies, and medicine to those who require assistance.
I know that there are different opinions in Poland about Ukraine and Ukrainians. I always say one thing: “Come and see for yourself what life is like here — and help us at the same time.” I have been in Ukraine for 15 years, and since the war began, I have traveled to the east many times. I have never heard a single bad word about Poland. On the contrary, people often ask me to thank the Polish nation.
Recently, I was returning from Poland by car. A Ukrainian border guard asked if I was a priest. When I answered yes, he asked me to bless their offices and buildings. Interestingly, he was most likely not Catholic.
A Parish Growing Smaller, A Prayer Growing Stronger
Adam Kruczyński SVD (Struga, Khmelnytskyi District)
This war actually began in 2014. Until 2022, it was known as the ATO, or anti-terrorist operation. Four years ago, it turned into a full-scale war, which continues despite negotiations taking place in various parts of the world. No one can predict when it will end.
Here, where I work, the situation seems relatively stable. Children go to school, those who have remained continue to work, and supplies are still available at a normal level.
When I arrived in Ukraine in 1999, statistics showed that about 52 million people lived here. Today, no one knows exactly how many people remain, but it is estimated that the number may be around 28 million — perhaps even less.
I also see this decline in my parish. Before the war, about 70 people attended Sunday Mass. Last Sunday, the First Sunday of Lent, only 15 people came to church. During the week, no one comes anymore. There are no children; young people have left. Only the elderly remain, and they are slowly passing away. The middle-aged generation is hiding, as they can be called up for military service at any moment. I have parishioners who were taken directly from the street into the army without the opportunity to say goodbye to their loved ones.
The great enthusiasm for fighting the enemy that was so visible at the beginning of the war has long since disappeared. Young men are doing everything they can to avoid mobilization.
The people of Struga, where I have been serving for 26 years, are deeply affected by what their relatives and friends — and the residents of eastern Ukraine and other war-affected regions — are experiencing. Recently, hardly a day has passed without the bombing of Kyiv, Kharkiv, Zaporizhzhia, Odesa, and many other cities, not only in the east.
The lack of electricity, heating, and water is a daily reality for many. Residents of large apartment blocks often lack even basic portable toilets. Of course, I do not even mention a peaceful night’s sleep, free from fear for one’s own survival and that of one’s family.
All we can do is pray fervently each day for an end to the war and for lasting peace.
The Siren That Stops the Town
Józef Gwóźdź SVD (Nowa Uszyca, Khmelnytskyi District)
I did not know Ukraine in peacetime. I arrived here in mid-November 2022, after the tragic death of Fr. Jerzy Czarnecki, SVD, and six months after the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion. Fr. Adam Kruczyński, SVD, who was returning after a short stay in Poland, brought me here. Fr. Wojciech Żółty, SVD, is also here. Although we live nearly thirty kilometers apart, both are an immense support to me.
What will forever remain in my memory from that first journey is the darkness. There was no electricity at all. We drove through Lviv, Ternopil, Khmelnytskyi, and Dunayivtsi in complete darkness. Soldiers frequently stopped us at barricaded checkpoints.
Another reality that has troubled me since my arrival is the siren. Frequent alarms — especially in the morning — constantly create tension and subconscious stress. Rockets, drones, and jets often pass over our towns, so the anxiety caused by the sirens is very real. Even if missiles are aimed at large cities, you never know where they may fall.
There is another siren — the most painful one for all of us. It is the slow-moving car siren announcing the funeral of a fallen soldier. Everything stops in pain and silence. Children leave their schools, and people come out of their homes and shops, forming a guard of honor on both sides of the street and covering the road with flowers. As the body of the fallen soldier passes by, everyone kneels, makes the sign of the cross, and bids farewell with tears and prayers.
Since the beginning of the war, 130 fallen soldiers have returned to our small community of about 5,000 inhabitants. Nearly 80 are still missing. More than 200 families mourn beloved sons, fathers, brothers, and grandsons. There are thousands of such communities across Ukraine. The scale of suffering has left many Ukrainians exhausted and depressed. The death toll continues to rise.
Many families are separated. Men are not allowed to leave the country. Distance and limited contact strain family relationships. After two years of service, some soldiers receive their first leave to visit home. Many struggle to adapt to civilian life. They say the world does not understand them.
We increasingly see veterans returning from the front with severe injuries — missing limbs or suffering from deep psychological trauma. Many endure post-traumatic stress disorder. Due to the overwhelming number of cases, professional therapy and medical assistance are difficult to obtain. Some refuse treatment and try to numb their pain with alcohol.
We still struggle with electricity shortages. The harsh winter makes daily life a fight for survival. Electricity is often available for only a few hours a day. I do not think I have ever longed for spring as much as I do this year.
My mission consists primarily in being close to people: praying with them, administering the sacraments, strengthening hope, offering encouragement, and caring for spiritual life and community. For four years now, we have held daily hour-long adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. People come — especially those whose husbands, sons, fathers, and grandsons are on the front lines — to pray for their safe return. And for those who have died, that the merciful God may grant them eternal life. We pray together. People deeply appreciate this.
In this painful reality of war, one truth stands out clearly: many kind and generous people continue to share what they have, help one another, comfort one another, and bring hope.
War, evil, and hatred will not have the last word. Love is stronger. Christ on the cross defeated sin, death, and darkness. May this season of Lent inspire us to bear witness and act with love toward our suffering brothers and sisters. As the Church and the Word of God teach us, we can help through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.
Since I have been here, I have encountered great gratitude and kindness from the local people. They are deeply grateful to Poland and the Polish people. On their behalf, I thank you for every kind of support, both spiritual and material. May God reward you with His blessing for the good you have shown.
