Winter is coming to war-torn east Ukraine and 90-year-old Vasily Semyonovich is getting increasingly worried.
His home is close to the bombed out ruins of the airport in rebel-held Donetsk where separatist fighters still battle government troops daily.
But as temperatures begin to drop below zero he has other concerns -- how he'll keep himself warm through the months of bitter cold ahead.
"Due to the bombing, there has not been any running water or electricity in this district for over a month," the former miner told AFP.
"The telephone doesn't work anymore and I have to warm myself by turning on the gas cooker."
"If electricity comes back then I will be able to heat my home. If not I will have to live in my kitchen."
- 'God alone knows' -
A veteran of the Second World War Vasily has lived through foreign invasions, political turmoil and the collapse of the country he once fought for.
Now in his twilight years he is seeing violence tear apart his hometown.
"A mortar exploded just in front of my house several weeks ago and shattered the windows," he says.
"It reminds me of my youth when I was sent to the Leningrad front in 1942 at the age of just 18."
Unable to do many daily chores for himself he relies on what little help he gets from outside to survive.
In the kitchen of his tiny house are two buckets of water that a kind neighbour has brought in from a well a few hundred metres away.
His food supplies are meagre: several jars of pickles, some potatoes, and two boxes of condensed milk. Over the past few days he has received a kilo of sugar and rice and a litre of oil in humanitarian aid.
"I haven't got my pension in four months. The telephone hasn't worked for three and I haven't been able to watch television since the electricity was cut," he says.
"God alone knows who is to blame for all this."
The area around Vasily's home is pockmarked by shell craters. Some of the houses are destroyed and torn electricity cables lie across the roads.
"Many of my neighbours have left but the old people have stayed behind," says Vasily.
"I've lived here since 1955. I have several chickens and some cats. I don't want to leave my house and even if I did, where could I go?" he asks.
Further down the street a team of city electricians are working on a damaged pylon.
Anxious local residents come out of their homes to try to find out when or if electricity will come back.
Team leader Oleg, 37, tries to reassure them by promising that work will be finished as soon as possible.
"It is difficult to concentrate on your work and fix the cables when you're up a pylon and you can hear sound of shooting around," he explains.
"We go out several times a day to try to reestablish the electricity in this area," he says.
"But when the bombardments begin we have to return to base. And three weeks ago even our base was hit by a shell."
Winter is coming to war-torn east Ukraine and 90-year-old Vasily Semyonovich is getting increasingly worried.
His home is close to the bombed out ruins of the airport in rebel-held Donetsk where separatist fighters still battle government troops daily.
But as temperatures begin to drop below zero he has other concerns — how he’ll keep himself warm through the months of bitter cold ahead.
“Due to the bombing, there has not been any running water or electricity in this district for over a month,” the former miner told AFP.
“The telephone doesn’t work anymore and I have to warm myself by turning on the gas cooker.”
“If electricity comes back then I will be able to heat my home. If not I will have to live in my kitchen.”
– ‘God alone knows’ –
A veteran of the Second World War Vasily has lived through foreign invasions, political turmoil and the collapse of the country he once fought for.
Now in his twilight years he is seeing violence tear apart his hometown.
“A mortar exploded just in front of my house several weeks ago and shattered the windows,” he says.
“It reminds me of my youth when I was sent to the Leningrad front in 1942 at the age of just 18.”
Unable to do many daily chores for himself he relies on what little help he gets from outside to survive.
In the kitchen of his tiny house are two buckets of water that a kind neighbour has brought in from a well a few hundred metres away.
His food supplies are meagre: several jars of pickles, some potatoes, and two boxes of condensed milk. Over the past few days he has received a kilo of sugar and rice and a litre of oil in humanitarian aid.
“I haven’t got my pension in four months. The telephone hasn’t worked for three and I haven’t been able to watch television since the electricity was cut,” he says.
“God alone knows who is to blame for all this.”
The area around Vasily’s home is pockmarked by shell craters. Some of the houses are destroyed and torn electricity cables lie across the roads.
“Many of my neighbours have left but the old people have stayed behind,” says Vasily.
“I’ve lived here since 1955. I have several chickens and some cats. I don’t want to leave my house and even if I did, where could I go?” he asks.
Further down the street a team of city electricians are working on a damaged pylon.
Anxious local residents come out of their homes to try to find out when or if electricity will come back.
Team leader Oleg, 37, tries to reassure them by promising that work will be finished as soon as possible.
“It is difficult to concentrate on your work and fix the cables when you’re up a pylon and you can hear sound of shooting around,” he explains.
“We go out several times a day to try to reestablish the electricity in this area,” he says.
“But when the bombardments begin we have to return to base. And three weeks ago even our base was hit by a shell.”
