Russian Drones Just Miss Former CIA Director: a View From a Train Near the Polish Border

The third evacuation was different.The first two times our train from Kyiv toward Poland stopped because of Russian drone attacks, passengers moved quickly but relatively calmly away from the cars. The third time, the urgency in the railway official’s voice had changed.JOIN US ON TELEGRAMFollow our coverage of the war on the @Kyivpost_official.People were shouting, “Run!”So we ran.We had been told to get at least 200 meters from the train, away from anything that might attract a Russian drone or send shrapnel flying if it were hit. We crossed a dark, marshy field, sometimes over old wooden planks. Then came the sound I will remember: the whine of a jet-powered drone somewhere above us.I’m 85, and after running for a while my lungs went from burning to feeling as though they might burst. Eventually I couldn’t keep up with the younger passengers, but I kept moving.We reached the edge of a lake, where people dispersed into bushes and under trees. The advice was to stay low, partly to reduce exposure to shrapnel and partly to be less visible from the air.Some passengers were crying. A few small dogs looked as unhappy about the proceedings as the rest of us.Two young women remained standing. Other passengers shouted at them in Ukrainian to get down. I didn’t need a translation. The tone was approximately: Sit down immediately or we will personally kill you before the Russians have a chance.No one thought this was a drill.Then we heard another explosion. Other Topics of Interest Ukraine Faces New Russian Jet-Powered Drones | Stefan Korshak While Ukraine can intercept many conventional drones and ballistic missiles, faster jet-powered Geran drones are creating increasingly difficult threats. My companion Clara Kaluderovic was receiving information from Ukrainian security contacts about drones in the area. At one point we were told that an interceptor had brought one down. Others were still somewhere nearby.This happened after a week in Kyiv during which air-raid alerts had become almost part of the background noise. Ukrainians know this experience far better than I ever will. But for a foreign journalist, being hunted out of a train and into the bushes near the Polish border made something very clear: Russia’s effort to make normal life impossible does not stop at the front.Railways matter enormously in Ukraine. With civilian airspace closed, trains are the principal arteries connecting Ukraine with Europe. Diplomats take them. Journalists take them. Aid workers take them. Families take them. So do Ukrainians leaving the country and Ukrainians determined to return.Make those trains frightening enough and you begin to isolate Ukraine.After one of the attacks we could see heavy smoke. Initially, from my angle, I thought a church near the railway had been struck. Later, after comparing photographs and talking with others, I learned that I had been wrong. The drone had hit the locomotive of a train standing beside ours, behind the church.That correction matters. One obligation of eyewitness journalism is to distinguish what you thought you saw during chaos from what the evidence later shows. It was an exercise in humility.We also saw damaged railway track. Another strike hit near a gas station. Trains began collecting in the area as movement toward the border stopped. At one point there were passenger trains around us and, beyond one of them, a long line of fuel cars.Looking at the fuel cars I could see from my train window, sitting in a stationary railway carriage suddenly seemed considerably less attractive than it ordinarily does.Gen. David Petraeus was also traveling in our group. Earlier in Kyiv, he had told me that Ukraine and Russia are “redefining the very nature of warfare.” He was talking primarily about drones, sensors, electronic warfare and the extraordinary speed at which battlefield technology is evolving.Now we were experiencing one small part of that revolution ourselves.The important question was not whether Russia knew precisely who was on our train. I cannot establish that, and speculation is not fact.What can be established is the effect.Hundreds of civilians were repeatedly driven from trains in the middle of the night. Rail traffic on one of Ukraine’s essential connections with Europe was disrupted. A locomotive was damaged. Railway infrastructure was hit. And passengers who had thought they were nearly safely across the border discovered that the war could follow them almost to Poland.One Ukrainian woman I met while we were outside was surprised and seemed deeply appreciative that an American had come to Ukraine during the war. Of course I loved what she said, but, I found myself thinking the sentiment should run the other way.Ukrainians have been living with versions of this for more than four years. For me, hiding under bushes while Russian drones passed nearby was extraordinary. For millions of Ukrainians, calculating where the nearest shelter is, listening for drones and waiting for the all-clear have become grotesquely ordinary.Eventually, electricity returned to our carriage. My laptop began charging. Someone produced hot water and I made a cup of Earl Grey tea.Civilization restored, at least temporarily.Russia may be trying to persuade foreigners that traveling to Ukraine is too dangerous, too inconvenient and simply not worth it.If that was the message, it failed with me.I came away with more resolve and more energy than ever. I cannot wait to return to Ukraine.And when I do, I intend to come back on that same rail line.