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Refugees at the border crossing to Slovakia: Hundreds are queuing
Photo: MARTIN DIVISEK / EPA
On the evening of the first day of the war, Dima and Viktoria packed two suitcases: a small one, containing only the essentials, to flee to the basement.
And a big one, with lots of clothes, bread and water, for the flight out of the country.
The Ukrainian couple had been on the phone with their closest friends throughout the day.
A friend cried on the phone.
Another friend looked at a sky darkened by smoke and smoke.
Panic reigned everywhere, Viktoria and Dima remember.
They spoke to their neighbors: Who has a basement?
How many people fit in?
Who flees where?
Dima and Viktoria met each other only a year ago.
After six months, they moved into an apartment together in Lviv, in western Ukraine.
Dima, 31 years old, a tall man with long hair, a plaid jacket and an infectious laugh, has been walking on crutches since a hip injury, he works as a cook.
Viktoria, 28, a small, reserved woman, was a graphic designer.
The two were happy, together they raised their cat Anchovy.
Now they are on the run.
More than 600,000 Ukrainians have been driven from their homeland by Russian rockets, mortar fire and advancing tanks in the past five days.
Most are moving towards the EU, Poland, Romania, Hungary or Slovakia.
The Austrian migration researcher Gerald Knaus says that the size and speed of this refugee movement is "comparable to any other movement in recent years".
Even the exodus from Syria dragged on for years.
In the refugee summer of 2015, one million people came to the EU within a year.
Now that number could be reached within a few days.
Long columns of cars are dragging their way across Ukraine these days.
Frightened people are sitting in the cars, who were often only able to pack the bare essentials.
The EU has promised to take them in.
It should be quick and unbureaucratic.
But first they have to make it out of the country.
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Border post in Vyšné Nemecké: Even the border guards help
Photo: MARTIN DIVISEK / EPA
On Sunday evening, four days after the Russian attack began, Dima is sitting in the front seat of his black Honda.
It's dark outside.
The brake lights of the other cars shine through the windshield.
Victoria is in the back.
The two want to go to Slovakia.
Your destination is called Vyšné Nemecké, a border crossing in a small Slovak village.
Dima and Viktoria have agreed to take the SPIEGEL reporter to Slovakia with them - on condition that their surnames are not given.
The two had already fled on Friday.
Lviv is less than 70 kilometers from the Polish border.
For one night, the two were stuck in traffic at the border.
They said it would take them three or four days to reach the border post.
When they ran out of water, they gave up.
In the driver's seat, Dima is now scrolling through his Telegram messages.
The cars pulled over to the curb on the right.
It's hardly moving anyway, the cat is roaming around in the wagon.
The news is on the radio: they are fighting for Zhytomyr;
Russian troops destroyed Ivano-Frankivsk airfield;
Putin threatens to put his nuclear weapons on alert.
The car radio is playing Simon & Garfunkel, »The Sound of Silence«.
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Viktoria with her cat in the car
Photo: Sara Cincurova
Anyone who makes it to the Slovakian side of the border is greeted by dozens of helpers.
The camp is growing every day.
The Red Cross is there, as is the Maltese relief service, and members of the Greek-Catholic community are scurrying about, recognizable by their wide skirts.
High school graduates and construction workers distribute sandwiches and free SIM cards.
You see smiling, relieved faces.
Even the border guards help, pulling suitcases and pushing wheelchairs for the last few meters.
Around 50,000 people have fled to Slovakia since the beginning of the war.
Thousands are added every day.
The country has declared a state of emergency and set up a tent village for up to 300 refugees.
Firefighters are distributing chicken ragout there, and not all the places are occupied yet.
Ukrainians can enter the EU without a visa and can move freely for 90 days.
The authorities therefore do not even try to stop them.
Most refugees are picked up by relatives and friends right at the border.
Hardly anyone applies for asylum directly at the border.
Impressive transport logistics were created within a few days.
Helpers come from Germany themselves.
"Free transport Cologne" is written on a sign.
Also Dima and Viktoria do not intend to stay in a camp or a dormitory on the border.
Friends are waiting for her in Bratislava.
So far, it has primarily been the Ukrainian diaspora that has been directing the flow of refugees into the EU.
On Monday evening there are still two kilometers between Dima and Viktoria and Slovakia.
Cars are backed up for miles.
Photos show the situation on the Ukrainian side: hundreds are queuing there.
Refugees who made it report a terrible crowd.
Some say that women with children in their arms are let through faster.
Others say that you don't stand a chance with a child.
"I don't know what's going on there either," says an employee of the Slovakian authorities.
First the Ukrainians would control, then the Slovaks - and the problem does not lie with the Slovaks.
In the meantime, Slovakia has sent its own officials to the Ukrainian side to help with registration.
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Dima watches the videos from his hometown
Photo: Sara Cincurova
Dima spent the whole day looking at pictures from his hometown.
Kharkiv, in the far east of Ukraine, is now completely surrounded.
Videos show a burning school.
Bombs hit blocks of flats.
A missile will hit the central square in front of a government building on Tuesday morning.
"Most of my friends," says Dima, "are hiding in the cellars.
Some are fighting.” Then he says nothing more.
Viktoria is crying in the front seat.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy is still holding out in Kyiv after five days of war.
On Telegram he distributes videos in which he calls on his compatriots to fight.
In just a few days he has become a hero.
Ukraine, says Zelenskyj, must now defend its state alone.
Shortly after the beginning of the war he announced a general mobilization.
According to his instructions, no man between the ages of 18 and 60 is allowed to leave Ukraine.
Almost only women and children arrive at the border crossing.
Many men drive their families to the border and then have to turn back.
Some have their children taken to safety by strange women.
more on the subject
At the borders to Ukraine: »A refugee movement of historic proportions« A video by Martin Jäschke
Attack on the Ukraine: when refugee policy turns into neighborly helpBy Giorgos Christides, Steffen Lüdke and Ralf Neukirch
Ukraine refugees in Poland and Slovakia: "I don't think we can ever go back" By Jan Puhl and Steffen Lüdke, Lublin and Vyšné Nemecké
Dima is only 31, but a few years ago he had a heart attack.
Because of the broken hip and the walking aids, he has a disability card.
He can't fight, even walking the few kilometers to the border crossing, past the parked cars, would be torture for him.
During the journey, his wife keeps reminding him of his medication.
Dimochka, Viktoria then says, "please take your pills."
Dima hopes that the Ukrainian border guards will let him through, that the general mobilization will not apply to him.
He's not sure.
Everything now depends on the decision of a border guard.
Collaboration: Martin Kadnar