Life in Ukraine

Help doesn’t always begin with a slogan. Sometimes, it starts with a quiet question: “How are you today?” At Gen.Camp, a therapeutic retreat for Ukrainian children affected by Russia’s war, the response is often silence—shoulders hunched, eyes lowered. From that silence, the healing begins.

When the sun is high on June 1, four Dutch and four Ukrainian servicemen descend the porch of the Defense Ministry in the Netherlands. Ahead of them: 2,600 kilometers to Kyiv in just 21 days, a charity march to confront PTSD and raise funds for those still battling its invisible scars.

A group of men draped in blue and yellow flags steps off the bus into a crowd. “Welcome back! Thank you, guys!” echoes from all sides. Moments later, a woman runs in to embrace one of them. This is one of the places Ukraine’s former prisoners of war are brought after exchanges, with more defenders returning from Russian captivity on June 19.

The Vernadsky Research Base is Ukraine’s polar research station in Antarctica. But when Russia launched its full-scale invasion, even this icy frontier wasn’t untouched. Thirty-one polar scientists joined Ukraine’s Armed Forces. They’re now known, unofficially but proudly, as the Military Penguins. This is their story.

When a Russian drone hit Eddy Scott’s truck in a strike on a humanitarian mission near Pokrovsk, the volunteer lost his limbs. But instead of going home, the British sailor-turned-medic stayed in Ukraine, advocating for the war’s wounded and proving that its reintegration model doesn’t just rival the West, but can teach it.

Since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, Ukrainian port workers have operated under constant threat. Every departing vessel carries the risk of being struck, and every container and grain truck moves under the wail of air raid sirens. And yet, grain continues to leave the ports of Odesa.