My film team and I travelled high into the Carpathian Mountains of Ukraine to reach an off-the-grid safe house for orphaned children of war.
It was my first time in the Carpathian Mountains—it is the perfect place to discover beauty from the ashes of tragedy and rebuild springs of hope in the soul of a child.
I’m an American who has spent my fair share of time in the Colorado Rockies and Shenandoah of Virginia, but the Carpathians are unique. Here, the natural world feels sacred. These hills have witnessed the footsteps of generations, Hutsul shepherds, freedom fighters, monks, and poets, each leaving behind whispers woven into the wind. Towering spruce and beech forests blanket the ridges, opening now and then to reveal serene pastures and wooden chapels with steeples that pierce the sky. Streams tumble through moss-covered rocks, feeding crystal lakes that reflect a land seemingly untouched by time. Ever present magic.
I am remembering the scene from the movie The Sound of Music, where Maria Von Trapp, portrayed by actress Julie Andrews, must escape to the mountainous Alps for refuge from the Nazis. She is given a verse from the Bible:
"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.”
— Psalm 121:1–2
On this day, my friend Marysya is my guide. At twenty-five, she is a journalist and international runway model who gave up Paris to help the next generation of Ukrainian girls — an extraordinary woman known for her tender heart for the suffering of orphans. Her own father was killed by Russians on the first day of the full scale invasion. It is not a tragedy that goes away in the life of a daughter and Ukrainian patriot.
With Marysya today is a small detachment of girls in their mid-teens, whom she is training as journalists and humanitarians. Still in the throws of their youth, these young women speak and act with an uncommon dignity and poise rarely found in adults twice their age. Marysya’s protege, sixteen year old Kateryna, is exceptional. She will serve as my interpreter for the interviews. Marta is fourteen, and she will assist with iPhone B footage and translations. Our host for the day is Olha Makoviichuk, a woman who carries the enormous responsibilities of bringing in support for the children’s facilities. Beside me for this adventure is my film crew - we have traveled thousands of miles together over the years. Leading the film project is John Luc - as good a field DP and as anyone in the business - This stop is special.
We arrived at our destination just after sundown. The safe house was hidden in the forest—a repurposed dormitory retreat center, with thirty-one children and seven very loyal and professional ladies who have given their lives to play the role of mothers to the motherless.
Today I will interview nine children — three girls and six boys, each more fascinating than the next. Great interviews are not interrogations, but deeply human conversations. That requires time. There is not a lot of that, but I am a father and I think of how I would speak with my own children. Where appropriate and comfortable, I begin by showing pictures of my daughters. The girls seem to enjoy hearing about children their age on the other side of the globe and finding common points of interest - music, books, dancing.
The Russians have not only tried to rob them of their parents, but to steal their childhood. This safe house is a place where they get to experience childhood once again. They have friends with shared experiences. Adventures in the woods. Arts and crafts. Simple meals and warm beds. The sound of deadly rockets in the air and machine guns is far away.
One of the most impressive Ukrainians I have ever interviewed was 13-year-old Katya from Kharkiv. She witnessed Russians execute civilians by the river of her town, was captured by the invaders, and imprisoned for many months before escaping. She made a solo journey of more than a thousand kilometers, crossing Russian-controlled Crimea using her wits and her will to survive.
Had she not escaped the Russians, it is likely she would have been kidnapped and deported like tens of thousands of other Ukrainian children. The Russians kill the parents and steal the children. Next they abuse them, force them to renounce their nation, and prepare them for military service with the goal of sending them back to kill their relatives. But Katya was clever. And she was not interested in becoming a victim. Even at twelve she had enough common sense and moxie to study her enemy, look for weaknesses and find a way to escape.
I showed Katya images and videos of my own daughters.
“That’s so cool,” she said in response to a video of my daughter on a carousel.
Katya was excited to talk. She wanted to make sure that I knew that she was from Kherson - where so much action had taken place.
I was impressed by her gratitude and amazed by Katya’s zest for life. Before the war, she was a competitive ballroom dancer who travelled to Bulgaria and more than 20 cities in Ukraine. She trained in all the classic styles, including tango, but her favorites were waltz and cha-cha.
She told me she loves to paint and read detective novels—her favorite.
The only time her enthusiasm for life broke was when she discussed what she had witnessed and experienced at the hands of the Russian occupiers.
In those moments, she became deadly serious, cautious with her words, as if she was discussing something both terrible and holy.
No child should ever have to witness what Katya has seen. No child should have to endure such hardship. But following the full scale invasion of Ukraine, this proud ancient people have been forced to endure what few Americans can imagine.
Because of the war crimes of the Russian Federation, Ukraine has the highest mortality rate in the world and the lowest birthrate. It is a country of fatherless children where newborn babies are true miracles. It means the life of every child is extraordinarily special.
In the course of my interview with her, it seems clear to me that Katya is among the best of the next generation of Ukrainians - indefatigable, undaunted, with a mysterious inner strength.
She has now been here in the mountains for just over a month at the safe house. In this Carpathian safe house she can rest and find peace because “Russians won't get me here.”
Her little portion of a shared room is decorated as you might imagine from a war orphan with the perseverance to escape Russians and survive on the road alone for nearly two months. On her bed is her stuffed animal of choice—a large plush lamb. There are books on her makeshift counter. On the adjacent table are a few brushes and watercolor drawings beside a vase with fresh flowers. Over her bed, a Ukrainian flag is proudly pinned to the wall.
Kateryna and Marta interview me for local broadcast.
Katya is happy now. She doesn’t want to leave. The staff and fellow orphans are now her family. This does not surprise me - at the safe house I observe a lot of thoughtfulness, between the children. Between children and staff. People are genuinely kind. The children put their heads on the shoulders of their guardians at the center and receive warm loving hugs. The kind they would receive from a real parent. It seems clear that these children bond with one another. They find hope in the midst of common tragedy.
Katya dreams of a day when she can dance again. She wants the nightmares to go away. She hopes Russians will soon be defeated and she can feel safe. She is injured, but not broken. A hopeful young warrior, not a victim. She wants to live her life.
I believe she will.
Enjoy the brief behind-the-scenes clip. We hope to timely complete our documentary on children of war, including this segment on “A Safe House for Orphans.” Stay tuned.
Slava Ukraini,
DW Phillips
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DW Phillips is a constitutional attorney, a filmmaker, and journalist who directs Ukraine Story, a foundation for documentary reporting.
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