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move, pulls the child out of the fire, or the grandmother of the hole in the ice, rushes into the breach, etc.

Of course, there are these heroes our war. But I want to write about a different understanding of heroism,

„undress‟, and ordinary. Today, many heroes in this sense are in Lugansk.

The hero is the man who, walking for water for his family will take a few bottles for his elderly neighbor, who will share food, shelter to the needy person at a time when it is the most difficult time.

Heroes of today, they are those who have not give up their work and make it under fire: the drivers of minibuses, janitors, and electricians and, of course, water trucks, medics and rescuers. How many of them have already wounded, and some of them have been killed. These people work without a salary. The fact that they do, saves the life of the whole city, it is not a job, and it is a feat.

I do not rank myself as a hero: sometimes I do something for old women from the yard, but it is nonsense, and it should be so.

And those heroes after the war should get Prizes and awards and human respect. I'm afraid that none of this they will not get. But ordinary people, I hope consider them as heroes. I consider them as heroes exactly!!!

Vera

We accidentally met with a familiar ambulance driver yesterday, who told how after every firing their machine ran through the city in search of the wounded. As the phones didn't work, people just went on the road and stopped ambulance car or car with the militiamen, who often themselves delivered the wounded citizens to the nearest hospital. Every day the emergency room doctors were ready again and again to patrol the broken streets and the city doctors were willing to provide the necessary assistance. I admire these people. Exhausted, tired, with red eyes because of lack of sleep, they were forced to work almost around the clock, due to the lack of specialists. After all, many left the city, and those who remained bore the entire burden of the blockade. Adding to this the absence of all communications and constant shelling, and it seemed a daunting task. But they have coped, expressed no irritation or neglect that had often met in the former, peaceful life. None of them lost the sense of compassion, human decency in these conditions. In my opinion, all who remained here and didn't become a beast in such circumstances deserve respect.

Vladimir

All this time we were like one family - those who stayed here with me to get water at the water source. In fact, the water was, as well as mobile connection cut from us for more than 40 days. They stood firmly, they did not have quarrels with each other instead of it, they were joking and talking about the new world round us. Despite the fact that above our heads projectiles were flying sometimes actively and, at any point we could be torn apart into little pieces by mine that "valiant" saboteurs loved to shoot in crowds. One day, I was with my mother and neighbors, nearly killed in a row for the water. We had left 10 minutes before it all happened ...

After all, as it turned out, the terrorists-separatists, do not deserve the right of drinking water. It should be clarified that "terrorist-separatists" - people who have stayed here, because of the patriotic love of the city, their home, regardless of their political views and ideologies.

Indeed, think of it, only a few women, men, kids are staying in that row. We are subhuman, why think about the fact that one of these people - the doctor who has been saving lives of an incredible number of people for decades, and the man - the builder, who built dozens of homes and kids that are quiet, acting strangely for the kids of their agethey do not play and listen to the sounds of the city all the time in tension, fear of death and 100% alert - are the future scientists, athletes, musicians. We

all become one family, and it is going to be that way, until the heart of the last person from here is beating it`s song of bravery and patriotism.

Vera

There are a lot of militiamen on the streets, who are dressed differently: the dusty, unshaven, tired but cheerful. They can be found everywhere. They are free from military action now and provide assistance to all services: deliver water and food, help in the repair of broken homes. As one of my neighbors said: “If you need anything just stop the car with the militia and they will definitely help”. All people have somehow adapted to the lack of light and water, and sometimes you can catch the mobile connection, with spending a lot of time and effort. Local radio announced about strict energy savings. From this day we use boiler once a day, the vacuum cleaner - once a week, kettle we do not use at all. It's my contribution to savings.

People continue to return to Lugansk. Today neighbors Larissa and Victor have returned. This is the storm of emotions. Joy of the dog Semyon has no limit. They were very close, under the city Schastie, "behind enemy lines". With a heavy heart they watched how projectiles flied to Lugansk from their territory. Sometimes a truck drove past the house, where they were sheltered, tractor and barrel behind it on the trailer. Once, they asked what was there, the locals quietly explained: "Dead soldiers of the Ukrainian army are lying in the truck, they are dumped into the dug ditches and covered some chemistry from the barrel, buried, and the place is spread with a tractor. Thus, thousands of soldiers are

reported missing. Apparently, this is happening all over the front line."

Now our Luhansk and Donetsk lands are a mass grave for the "right" and the "left".

We get used to a peaceful life... Go and rustle with a soft featherbed of the yellow leaves. Choose Sunny areas of the streets and bask in the last warm rays of the cool autumn sun. Hammering can be heard everywhere, people rush to patch the broken roof before the prolonged autumn rains. In the yard of one of the houses we found a neatly folded mountain from long securely downed boxes. There is a lack of building materials and people mend roofs, smashing boxes from under the shells. Green grass is getting closer to the holes from explosions on the lawns. The earth pulls its wounds. You can occasionally hear the deaf clapping, it is a defusing unexploded mines in the houses and gardens.

I like the way our city is living now. Without fuss. Without extra noise. People began to communicate more with each other, they became more friendly. We're almost accustomed to the silence, only destroyed houses and militiamen on the streets still remind about the recent military everyday life.

Natalia

...September is painted with notes of anxious waiting and hope. Because the fragile truce has given a joy to be back home again, close to loved ones and at the same time a sense of impotent rage from what they have done to your city, your house, people who will never be the same. First graders with white bows, whom are so few in September, have became the symbol of hope and belief in better, the symbol of the continuation of life. But the ceremony in my home school has begun with a minute of silence for the third-grader and his mom who died during the summer attacks. And that's a reminder that some things cannot be forgotten, about what will remain forever in the memories and hearts, about our responsibility to the future.

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