Train to new love: Dates in border cities.

I Can't Imagine My Life Without These Meetings

Saturday. The only train to Kramatorsk arrives at noon. The penultimate stop of the "Intercity" is in Slavyansk. The platform is crowded with military personnel: they are meeting someone. Through the window, I watch as happy faces flicker, smiles shine, and women bend over luxurious bouquets.

The beautiful, slender 28-year-old Anastasia Maksimovich kisses her husband, 29-year-old Ilya Romanov, who is in civilian clothes. For a moment, both faces are obscured by huge pink lilies: his wife doesn’t like roses, chrysanthemums, or daisies. So he buys her any other flowers.

“My husband has been serving for about a year, and he has been stationed in Slavyansk since September. I try to visit him every three to four weeks. At first, I was very scared, troubled thoughts consumed me, but I've gotten used to it. The city is relatively calm. My job allows me to escape for a few days each week, and I leave my cat with my mom. Ilya shares an apartment with guys, but when I come, he rents a separate one for us,” the young woman shares.

In Slavyansk and Kramatorsk, it's impossible to find a free apartment for the weekend. I called ten different realtors. All the housing is occupied.

Anastasia brought her husband some treats: ham, his favorite protein bars, Lindt chocolate — things that can’t be found in the city.

“We love wandering through the streets, popping into our favorite cafes. When I prepare to go home, I leave the flowers he gave me in the apartment, even though it pains me. It’s inconvenient to take them on the train, after all, it’s a seven-hour journey,” says Ilya’s wife. She does not consider moving to Slavyansk:

“I need to keep an eye on our home in the capital, I have a cat, I have parents — and every time I prepare for a trip, it’s a tragedy. I have plans for my career. I am ready to visit my husband, even if he is transferred to another city.”

Anastasia admits that she can't imagine how she would cope without such meetings:

“We miss each other so much; three weeks after parting, such a longing washes over us. I am very glad we have these meetings. There is a family we know where the husband, a soldier, doesn't see his wife because they have children, and she can't leave them. When he came home on leave, the woman noticed that her partner had changed significantly. It got to the point where they are now strangers. Their family is falling apart.”

Before the stop in Kramatorsk, several women are applying makeup, and you can hear them talking on the phone about which carriage they are in. There are even more soldiers on the platform, and even more flowers (entire bouquets). Couples embrace and quickly disappear from the train station: in memory — the arrival nearly three years ago when a Russian "Tochka-U" missile killed over 60 people and injured more than 120.

In the square near the train station, something white flutters in the hands of two elderly people. It’s a wedding towel. The parents have traveled from near Pokrovsk to bless their daughter Victoria and her fiancé Vladimir. They just arrived from Kyiv and will take the same train back in an hour.

“For happiness, for love, for a long family journey, most importantly — for peace,” the father’s voice trembles, but he regains his composure. The white towel, embroidered with swans, flowers, and the words “Na shchastya, na dolyu,” flutters in the wind. The bride and groom bow and express their gratitude. They kiss the bread. The mother and daughter wipe away tears of joy.

“I wanted a proper matchmaking ceremony, for my husband’s parents to come to mine… But the war changed that,” sighs Victoria. “I asked my mom to take the towel that I embroidered during my student years and which had been waiting for its time.”

The couple plans to visit Vladimir’s parents in Poltava, who will bless them with icons. Everyone hopes this will happen somewhere other than the train station.

Some people flee from the Donetsk region, while others choose to live in it

In Kramatorsk, couples have always met where the husband, a soldier, didn't necessarily serve in the city itself. They came from Druzhkivka, Slavyansk, Konstantinovka, Krasnyi Lyman, and once from Bakhmut and Pokrovsk. Bakhmut is destroyed and occupied, while Pokrovsk is hot.

It can't be said that Kramatorsk is the safest place. It may have been at some point, but now shelling has become more frequent. There is an industrial zone here, which is hit daily, and there are also frequent strikes in the city center. Therefore, traveling here is a risk regardless. Those civilians who come here consciously accept that risk.

There are not as many as before: both due to the danger and because the number of soldiers has decreased; they have been redeployed to other areas. However, there are women who decide to move to Kramatorsk to be near their men, to cook for them, to care for them.

Oksana is one of them. She asks not to disclose her last name. She left her husband to be with her beloved Yuri. They have known each other for a long time, but their romance ignited three years ago. Oksana divorced and traveled to Yuri in all the cities where the front lines took him: Kharkiv, Cherkasy, Ternopil, and most recently, Kramatorsk.

“When you go to meet a soldier, you have to be ready for him to show up not for two days, but for a day or an hour, or he might not come at all. And if he does come, he’s constantly in touch with his unit. I call the phone another family member. I always set my mindset: this should be an adventure. Once, I unexpectedly drove to him for New Year’s. I made it just two hours before the celebration. He met me, grabbed me, twirled me around, and started kissing me. I don’t eat Olivier salad, so the only dish we had was bread with “Philadelphia” cheese, spread with caviar. It was the best New Year of my life!” — the woman shares with enthusiasm.

Oksana enjoys Kramatorsk, its streets, beautiful parks, the light blue sky, the flag on the mast, coffee in her favorite cafes. Although there are frequent shellings here, she considers it a city worth living in:

“There is everything here. After the invasion of the Donetsk region in 2014, Kramatorsk became a cultural center where many professors moved with good medical equipment; many cafes and restaurants opened. There is a street with many establishments that are always crowded. A lot has appeared since more military personnel have come here. For example, there are barbershops and mobile kitchen services. I’ve learned to spot couples where it’s clear the girlfriend has come to be with her man: they stroll around the city. Although Kramatorsk is just 20 kilometers from the front, it’s a place where soldiers can take a break from extremely challenging tasks, swim in the river, play volleyball, meet girls — to not be at war for a while.”

The woman revels in her love. She records poems on audio and sends them to Yuri, writes handwritten letters, and sends her favorite books.

“I am rediscovering myself with this man. I am inspiring myself. He is also changing, becoming more open and tender. We are growing in our relationship. Recently, I decided to move: my children are grown, and I can manage my business from a distance. I realize that the war has been going on for three years, and men change. They get tired and exhausted. I know there are many divorces, and there will be even more. But I am optimistic. We are two adults who have chosen love. I am ready to share my resources and support. Soldiers need love. That’s what they need most,” Oksana is confident in her feelings and her readiness to be with her beloved.

I Will Close the Sky Over Her

Marina and Andrey Pleshcheev met in Kharkiv a year and a half ago during a volunteer run of 10 kilometers. They connected over “patriotic views and attitudes towards soldiers.”

We talk in a café away from the center of Kramatorsk. Both are in pixel camo.

She is 27. He is 34. Young, beautiful, cheerful. Very conscious and