How 48 Ukrainian children were saved from Kharkiv kindergarten hit by Russian drone

Despite moving forward, Oleksandr Volobuev’s body is tilted slightly away from the camera, as if bracing for the deadly air still swirling with debris and falling smoke.

With intense concentration on his face, the Major General from the Civil Protection Service of Ukraine clutches tightly to a precious package wrapped in his coat for protection – with two small pink shoes sticking out of it.

It is a stunning image of a dramatic rescue from a nursery school in the eastern city of Kharkiv, after a devastating direct hit by a Russian drone.

Unsurprisingly, this story went viral, capturing the imagination of Ukrainian and global public opinion alike.

With 48 children trapped in a shelter in the burning building, this was not the only act of bravery that day, and not by far.

But few photographs better encapsulate the growing impact of Russia’s large-scale invasion on daily life, with Ukraine’s most vulnerable people now bearing the brunt, including children.

“We received a call that there had been an attack on the kindergarten,” Oleksandr Volopov told me. “And of course, when we knew there would be children, we set off anxiously.”

Little did he expect that by the end of that day, as a result of carrying that little girl to safety, he would find himself hailed as a national hero.

In a split-second moment captured on camera, the Ukrainian people saw not only the reality of Russia’s new strategy – its increasing attacks on civilian infrastructure – but also a stark depiction of their own resilience and defiance.

It is impossible to know why the Honey Academy, which is based in a sturdy two-story brick building in Kharkiv’s Khlodnohirsky district, was hit by a witness drone.

The low, menacing hum of those Iranian-designed weapons, which carry a lethal payload of 50 kilograms, is now all too familiar, not only to soldiers on the front lines, but to Ukrainians everywhere.

While they can be devastatingly accurate, the large quantities Russia launches — with multiple waves of drones in each attack on cities across the country — means some glitches are inevitable.

Russia has regularly denied targeting residential areas, but maps of the city show no clear military targets in the immediate vicinity of the kindergarten, and the Ukrainian government has certainly spoken of this as deliberate.

President Volodymyr Zelensky said shortly after the attack: “There is no justification for an attack on a kindergarten, and there can be no justification at all.” “Russia is clearly becoming more impudent.”

Feder Ohnenko was also with one of the emergency teams rushing to respond to the strike.

Normally, as a press officer in the Civil Defense Service, he is not closely involved in work on the front lines.

But this time, after seeing the disaster unfolding in front of him, he knew he had to act.

“There was a huge explosion and there was terror in their eyes,” he told me when he found the children gathered in the basement of the building.

Fortunately, after the air raid warning issued before the attack, the children took shelter in the school shelter there.

But as the fire continued to burn, destroying the roof and filling the building with smoke and dust, they remained in danger.

His colleagues, as well as members of the public who came to help, came forward one by one to retrieve a child.

Like Oleksandr, his commander-in-chief, Feder was photographed carrying a child to safety. In his case, he was a young boy, in the middle of rubble and smoke.

He explained: “I was reassuring him all the way that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about.”

“When we came out of the building, there was a car on fire. Our boys were putting it out. And you know, I was surprised that the child didn’t cry. There was definitely fear in his eyes.”

“I told him, ‘Go ahead and hug me as tight as you want. I’m very big, and as you can see in the picture, he grabbed me very tight.’

In the end, he played two roles: rescue work and his day job as well. The press officer’s helmet camera panned around, capturing numerous close-up photos and videos that have since been broadcast around the world.

The children were taken to an emergency reception point in a safe area, a few hundred meters from the nursery.

Not everyone was hurt, but there is no doubt about the danger they faced.

An adult woman working nearby was killed in the attack and nine others were injured, one suffering serious burns and another having her leg amputated.

For all the rescuers, Feder told me, there was a constant awareness not only of the dangers of fire, falling buildings and smoke, but also of the possibility of another strike.

Russia is known to have struck the same target twice, which Ukrainians see as a deliberate strategy to kill emergency workers.

The day after the nursery attack, a so-called “double hydrant” killed a firefighter and injured five of his colleagues in a village a short distance from Kharkiv.

Ukraine believes that Russia has turned to civilian targets out of desperation over its inability to achieve significant gains on the battlefield.

Both Oleksandr and Feder say what they saw in kindergarten did little to change their view of the enemy.

“From the beginning I had only one feeling that we had to go through all this and win,” Oleksandr told me.

I asked him what kind of future he envisioned for the lives of the 48 young people he helped save.

“Of course, just a good and happy life,” he replied. “But not only our children. I would like all children to live in peace.”