Iron People: The railway workers at the front of the Ukrainian resistance

It’s just after 4am at Uzhhorod station, a few kilometers from the Hungarian border in western Ukraine. On the platform, tall dark blue carriages tower above us, stretching off long into the distance and darkness of the night. At each doorway, there’s a smartly-dressed guard in a white shirt to welcome passengers inside. We’re ushered onboard the darkened carriage—lighting is kept to a minimum for safety during wartime—and find our bunks. At 4:29, spot on time, the train creaks slowly into motion and, in minutes, its gentle rhythm has us sound asleep.

There’s a timeless romance to the railways in Ukraine. Many Ukrainians and foreigners alike have fond memories of discovering the spectacular landscapes—the steppes, mountains and the sea—of this vast land through the windows of its hulking broad-gauge trains. With a 22,000-kilometer-long network crisscrossing Europe’s second-largest country, journeys over 10 hours long are not uncommon. Your sleeping compartment companions are likely to become friends before you reach your destination.

But when Russia launched its full-scale invasion on February 24 2022, the role of Ukrainian Railways (UZ) and its place in the hearts of the Ukrainian people was transformed forever. It has become a powerful symbol of national unity, resilience and resistance. In the first few weeks of the war, UZ safely evacuated four million people from areas close to the fighting to western Ukraine—and 600,000 further onwards into Europe. 

When Ukrainians need it, the railway—and its operators—are there for them.

Now, eight months into the war, Ukrainian Railways (Ukrzaliznytsia in Ukrainian) continues to play a vital role. The railway is Russia’s second-highest strategic target after military installations. Despite Russian forces repeatedly destroying infrastructure, keeping the trains running on time has been a massive propaganda victory and morale boost for Ukrainians. Yet, railway workers have paid a heavy price. Known as ‘Iron People,’ nearly 300 have been killed since the start of the conflict.

The same day Russian missiles began striking Kyiv and other cities across the country in February, Ukrainian Railways started running free evacuation trains. “I don’t remember much from that time because I think my brain makes me forget all those traumatic experiences,” recalls Cay, a Kyiv-based non-binary artist and activist, who runs Rebel Queers collective. 

Cay arrived with a friend to an almost deserted Pasazhyrskyi main station in Kyiv on March 3, just after curfew lifted at 7am. Schedules changed on a daily basis according to need, and soon they boarded a suburban electric redeployed as an evacuation train bound for Lviv.

“Once we began to leave Kyiv, I started to cry,” Cay says. “I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and do something but there wasn’t much I could do that was helpful at that time. I had to prepare myself that we might never come back again. I didn’t know if my home was going to be bombed, destroyed or occupied.”

During the first days of the war, trains and stations were jam-packed with people fleeing from Kyiv, Kharkiv, Dnipro and other major cities. Yet, everyone who turned up was able to board a train for the journey west and all stations were emptied by the end of each day. Orchestras soon appeared outside Lviv, Odesa and other stations, playing classical music to help calm people fleeing their homes. By the time Cay and their friend made the journey, the volume of people fleeing daily had already peaked. Still, fighting along the route forced a diversion, and what is normally a six-hour journey took almost an entire day.

“You could feel this unity on board,” Cay remembers. “When there’s so much pain, it unites people. It’s hard to explain but when you share something this horrible, you’re kinder to one another. You feel closer to people.” Arriving in Lviv late at night, they were exhausted. Without a plan, they stayed for a few days, before eventually crossing the border and settling in Berlin.

Lviv is one of the most spectacular cities in Eastern Europe, with a thriving cultural scene and architectural legacy of grand buildings, from gothic to baroque architecture, to neo-renaissance and soviet modernism. Just 70 kilometers from the Polish border, it’s also the furthest major city from the frontlines. Lviv became a sanctuary as hundreds of thousands of internally displaced people settled there.

We pull into Lviv-Holovnyi, Lviv’s palatial art nouveau station, just after 10am—not a second early or late, again. Built between 1899 and 1904 under the Austro-Hungarian empire, millions of people have passed through this grand transport hub since the full-scale invasion. Lviv-Holovnyi normally welcomes around 5,000 people daily. Suddenly, it had to cope with upwards of 100,000 people each day, relocating to Lviv or en route to the border. Volunteers appeared on the station square to feed people, share information and provide accommodation and healthcare support.

“The biggest fears people had were for their children,” remembers Roman Senyshyn, the 38-year-old director of Lviv station, responsible for managing this unprecedented exodus. “The most important role the railway workers had to play was keeping everyone calm and avoiding a panic.”

Even on days of intense Russian attacks, over 90% of trains usually still arrive on time; a figure that surpasses many other European rail networks without wars to contend with, such as the UK.

Temperatures hovered around minus 10-15 Celsius, while Russian attacks on the network made the evacuation more complicated. Yet, Ukrainian Railways quickly adapted and repaired the damage to keep the evacuation operation going non-stop. Trains kept rolling into Lviv throughout that apocalyptic first day of the invasion, as they do to this day. In those crucial first weeks, many railway staff worked around the clock.

“From February 21 to March 10, I only managed to get about 10 hours of sleep,” explains Roman, who started work at the station in 2007 and became director in 2021. “On March 10, I finally felt able to take a break and go home for 15 minutes, to change clothes. Then I was straight back to the station. It was a very sad time for everyone. But we succeeded in doing everything to allow people to evacuate safely. Everyone saw the railway carry on working and that was the strongest message we could send.”

The calmness and effectiveness of the evacuation were warmly appreciated by Ukrainians. The special evacuation trains have embedded themselves in the popular narrative around the war so far—a story of pride. This accomplishment was recognized far beyond Ukraine’s borders, too. Roman and others involved in the evacuation have been invited to share their experiences with other countries—particularly the Baltic States, who fear a similar situation.

Once the Ukrainian military repelled the assault on Kyiv after a month of ferocious fighting, the focus of the conflict shifted to Ukraine’s east and south. Slowly, at first, people began to return. The priority for UZ became bringing people home and reconnecting recently liberated areas, such as Irpin, Bucha and Borodianka, with a reliable train connection.

Today, Lviv station remains a key hub—as it always has been—but things are calmer. The station continues to keep people moving, despite repeated attacks on the network.

In early October, Russians began launching strikes on the electricity grid. But while many districts across the city lost power, Lviv station carried on as normal with diesel generators. Waves of missile and kamikaze drone strikes have left cities across Ukraine without power and water in recent weeks but UZ has shown its ability to keep trains running, repair damage quickly and keep delays to a minimum.

Even on days of intense Russian attacks, over 90 percent of trains usually still arrive on time; a figure that surpasses many other European rail networks without wars to contend with, such as the UK. In addition to delivering tonnes of humanitarian aid and reconstruction supplies by rail, remarkably, UZ’s grid has even been able to restore power to recently liberated villages in the east.

Rail is fundamental to both the Ukrainian economy and the war effort—a lifeline throughout Ukraine and to the rest of the world. With international flights grounded, visiting world leaders such as US Secretary of State Antony Blinken and EU chief Ursula Von der Leyen arrived in Kyiv by train. There are kilometers-long queues of lorries at the log-jammed land borders and major ports have been occupied or blockaded by the Russians—which costs Ukraine’s economy $170 million per day. Rail capacity has been significantly boosted to take over the lion’s share of import-export responsibilities—which includes millions of dollars of heavy weaponry—and new freight connections have been opened with Romania and Moldova.

“When the war started, everyone was all over the place. That morning, I called my colleagues and they said, ‘We’re going to work.’ We’ve been working ever since.”

- Larysa

Back in 2020, UZ’s new leadership announced ambitious modernization plans. In 2021, the railway returned to profitability for the first time in years. As Ukraine’s largest employer, with 230,000 staff, UZ felt a responsibility to create more jobs and stimulate the economy—which has shrunk by almost a third since the invasion. When war broke out, thousands of key workers went to serve in the army, yet still UZ accelerated its program of electrification, refurbishing existing trains and introducing new ones, such as the double-decker ‘City Elephants.’

All trains are now equipped with medical kits and a number of special medical trains have been introduced. Evacuation trains are always on standby, ready for whenever fighting escalates. But passengers will notice little difference, except all windows are now covered in protective plastic and lights are turned off at night for safety. A fellow passenger gave us sobering advice to sleep with feet towards the window—rather than heads—in case the train is shelled.

Public gatherings to celebrate Ukrainian Independence Day on August 24 were prohibited, so as not to become targets of Russian attacks. Still, air raid sirens sounded throughout the day, across the country. UZ marked the occasion by unveiling the Victory Train: seven carriages painted with murals to commemorate heroes from each of the seven occupied regions Ukraine is determined to recapture.

On Independence Day, guard Larysa stands outside the Victory Train, waiting to depart from Uzhhorod. Larysa explains how she has continued to work, traveling back and forth across the country, ever since the invasion.

“When the war started, everyone was all over the place,” she remembers. “That morning, I called my colleagues and they said, ‘We’re going to work.’ We’ve been working ever since that first day. Everybody in my team of 28 stayed and kept working, none of them evacuated.”

The other Victory Train guards are hesitant to have their portraits taken but Larysa steps forward, posing proudly in her uniform with its sparkling epaulets. As we wait for departure time, flicking through photos and videos on Larysa’s phone is a chronicle of the conflict as it unfolded. She shows photos of packed platforms and evacuation trains in the early days. Underlining the threat the Iron People constantly work under, she shows a picture she shot at Kramatorsk station just days before a Russian missile strike on April 8, which killed 60 civilians (including seven children) and wounded more than 110.

Larysa has taken on responsibilities above and beyond her job. She shows a photo of a family from Rubizhne waving her goodbye at Lviv station. After their house was destroyed and they lost everything, Larysa found them a house in a village in Khmelnytskyi Oblast.

A Russian rocket strike on a train at Chaplyne was the deadliest attack of Independence Day, which also marked six months since the invasion. “It was a tragedy, we lost four of our train guards,” laments Vasyl maintenance manager at Lviv depot. “Four of our carriages were burned to the ground. There’s no way they can be repaired.”

Outside the depot, candles and four portraits laid in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary pay tribute to fallen colleagues.

During the Cold War, the railway network was a strategic military asset. Recent modernization efforts have attempted to move UZ from a rules-based, top-down organization to a more modern, results-focused management style.

Yet, part of the reason Ukrainian Railways was able to respond so effectively to the Russian invasion is the lingering quasi-military institutional memory. Railway workers understand what they need to do and do it, without making a fuss. “Do we feel part of the resistance?” asks Christina, the depot manager. “Of course, everyone feels that in their own way.”

Cay returned to Kyiv the way they had come, by train, arriving in Kyiv on April 11—where they began volunteering. “I have huge respect for the railway workers and what they keep doing,” Cay reflects. “Especially in those first days, they did something incredible. Just like some people started volunteering or joined the army and took up weapons for the first time in their lives, this was their fight: helping people get to safety.”

In those first weeks, volunteer groups circulated messages calling for people to bring food to the railway guards because they had been working non-stop, without any sleep. Today, they’re still held in high esteem as people across Ukraine recognize the immense contribution they continue to make. In a time of war, the simple act of getting people from A to B can take on huge symbolic meaning and help hold the Ukrainian nation together.

The unbreakable nature of UZ also bears testament to a difficult journey Ukraine embarked on long before the war. Until the Maidan uprising in 2013-4 (known here as the Revolution of Dignity), most Ukrainian institutions were dysfunctional and riddled with corruption. Since Maidan, Ukraine has undergone a profound democratization process and undertaken significant reform and painstaking modernization of key institutions, such as the military, financial system, e-citizenship, and, of course, UZ. Most Ukrainians were largely oblivious to this work happening behind the scenes. But when everything was tested to destruction by the invasion and held firm, Ukrainians—and the world—could finally appreciate how much had been achieved.

As we talk, eight months after they first evacuated from Kyiv, Cay is again preparing to travel by train to Berlin to take up a month-long artists’ residency. “Of course, I see everything differently now—not just the railway workers,” they reflect. “I have this trust now. The Russians may keep bombing tracks and stations. I might have to evacuate again if Russia and Belarus try to invade Kyiv again because occupation is the worst possible situation to end up in. So, anything could happen. But I still have this feeling that Ukrzaliznytsia is going to be there for us.”