In the heart of Ukraine, under a sky heavy with smoke and sorrow, a terrible scene unfolded. Two ballistic missiles slammed into the Poltava Military Institute of Communication and a nearby hospital. The world shifted in an instant—more than fifty lives snuffed out and over two hundred others torn apart, either by the blast or by the grief that followed. The institute, once a place of learning, was reduced to rubble, its proud walls now broken and crumbled, a cruel testament to the randomness of war.
In Poltava 51 people have already died as a result of the Russian strike, some bodies under rubble, 271 wounded. Rescue and search operations will continue at night.
History repeats itself, and tragedies follow one after another. When will this stop? pic.twitter.com/IT5E5BYA0S— Western @ netLIKEtheSKY 🇺🇸💫🐍🔥🌞✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️ (@Skyrocket9994) September 3, 2024
The attack hit like a hammer, shattering not just buildings but the fragile semblance of normalcy. The air was filled with dust and cries, the sharp tang of burning mixed with the earthier scent of blood and sweat. People stumbled through the chaos, eyes wide with shock, searching for loved ones or simply trying to understand what had happened. President Zelenskyy, his face drawn tight, spoke directly to his people, to the world. “Some were pulled from the rubble, but too many remain lost,” he said, his voice a strange mix of steel and sadness. An investigation was ordered, but what could it uncover? Another horror in a long line of horrors? The weight of it all seemed almost too much to bear.
Around the academy, bricks lay scattered like teeth knocked out in a brawl. Shards of glass covered the streets, reflecting a sun that seemed almost out of place, too bright for such a grim scene. Trucks meant for war communications lined up along the perimeter, silent and still, while the city itself seemed to hold its breath, caught between shock and the grim resolve to keep going.
“I heard the explosions at home,” said Yevheniy Zemskyy, a local who had rushed to the site, driven by some instinct that couldn’t be explained. “When I saw what had happened, I knew I had to help. This is our city, our people. We can’t just stand by.” His words were plain, but they carried a weight that needed no embellishment—a shared understanding that comes in moments like these, when words fail and actions speak instead.
“Grief… I really want to kill that bastard.”
– Yurii Synyavakyi, Poltava residentThe number of people killed in Poltava currently stands at 51.
Meanwhile, Mongolia rolled out the red carpet to welcome the BASTARD and refused to arrest him. #LetUkraineStrikeBackNoLimits pic.twitter.com/fV3QUmf7Jv
— Natalka (@NatalkaKyiv) September 3, 2024
By the end of the day, the numbers had climbed. Fifty-one dead. Over two hundred injured. And still, the uncertainty—how many more lay beneath the ruins, waiting to be found, or forever lost? Governor Filip Pronin spoke with the solemnity of someone who had seen too much. “This is not just a tragedy for Poltava; it is a wound for all of Ukraine,” he said, declaring three days of mourning. Across the country, people lit candles, murmured prayers, their grief mixed with a stubborn defiance that refused to be silenced.
International voices rose in a chorus of condemnation. The strike was called a “sickening act” by some, while others railed against the “limitless cruelty” of Russia’s actions. Promises of more aid, more weapons, more support flowed in, but they seemed like small comforts in the face of such loss. Words of support can only do so much when the ground is still hot, when the echoes of the blast are still ringing in your ears.
At the heart of the chaos was the Poltava Military Institute, a place where officers trained for the communications that are so vital in modern warfare. Now, it lay in ruins, a symbol of what had been and what was now lost. The Kremlin, ever silent, offered no words to explain or justify. In the absence of comment, the message was clear: no place is safe, no target off-limits.
Poltava… More than
180 people were injured. Unfortunately, many died. As of this time, 41 are known
deceased 😰😭 pic.twitter.com/X7IY7B30v6— Dima Zapo (@DimaZapo) September 3, 2024
These missiles did more than destroy buildings; they struck at the heart of a people already wearied by months of conflict. It was a strike timed to cause maximum chaos, hitting just as people were moving toward safety, answering the air-raid alarms with their usual grim determination. Rescue workers did what they could, pulling the living from the debris, each survivor a small victory in a landscape of defeat.
Zelenskyy, as he has done so many times before, called out to the world. “We need defenses now,” he urged, not pleading but demanding, his tone that of a man who knows time is running out. “Every delay costs lives,” he warned, his words a stark reminder that in war, time is measured not in hours or days but in lives lost and futures shattered.
Here, in this wounded place, what remains is a grim kind of hope. A belief that, despite everything, they will endure. Each strike, each attack, only strengthens their resolve. They have been broken but not bowed, hurt but not defeated. In every face, in every action, there is the quiet, stubborn resistance of a people who refuse to give up, who refuse to let go. And so, amidst the ruins, amidst the smoke and the tears, Ukraine stands, not just as a place but as a promise—a promise to survive, a promise to remember, a promise to never forget.
Major Points
- Two ballistic missiles struck the Poltava Military Institute of Communication and a nearby hospital in Ukraine, killing over 50 people and injuring more than 200.
- The attack left the institute in ruins, transforming a place of learning into a tragic symbol of the ongoing conflict.
- Ukrainian President Zelenskyy addressed the nation, expressing deep sorrow and ordering an investigation into the devastating strike.
- The attack prompted international condemnation, with global leaders decrying the “cruelty” of the strikes and pledging additional support for Ukraine.
- Amidst the destruction and loss, Ukrainians continue to display resilience, with rescue efforts ongoing and calls for stronger defense measures echoing across the country.
Susan Guglielmo – Reprinted with permission of Whatfinger News