“Everything that could shoot fired here.” The village of Nezlamne (formerly Potyomkine) of the Vysokopillia community in the Kherson region almost turned into a ghost village. Here, on the outer street by the highway, in 2022 the front line ran. Every house sustained damage.
After deoccupation less than a third of the residents returned. Many took advantage of housing certificates, leaving their shattered yards behind forever. However, those who returned fully justify their village’s new name. How the unbreakable village and its residents are being rebuilt — in this piece.
Trap by the highway
Previously this village was called Potyomkine. Local elders still use the historical name – Third Number, because in the 19th century the settlement was founded as German colony No. 3. The new name – Nezlamne – it received after deoccupation.
Among the ruins of the remaining buildings stand isolated walls, and the paths are overgrown with grass. The corrugated roofing has completely fallen off. Fleeing the shelling, people abandoned cars, houses and belongings.
The elder of the Voznesenske starostynskyi district, Valentyna Chernenko, recalls how Russian troops entered here on March 13, 2022.
The village saw looting: in the belongings of Russian paratroopers killed in Nezlamne valuable jewelry was found.
The Armed Forces of Ukraine liberated the village on June 26, but since neighboring Vysokopillia and Novovoznesenske remained under enemy control until the beginning of September, Nezlamne found itself in a fire trap from both sides.
“Everything that could shoot fired here. And our troops were positioned in this ‘pocket’. Because of that, literally all the houses were completely destroyed,” says Valentyna Chernenko.
At the time of deoccupation only 18 people remained in the village, who were later evacuated due to constant shelling.
“I came for the first time as part of an investigative team. It was such a terrible scene that I still get chills: everything destroyed, emptiness all around. And suddenly a man comes out of one yard. He was then the only one left in the whole village,” the elder shares.
In the middle of the settlement stands a building with brick walls riddled with shrapnel. Only the bare wooden frame of the roof remains, through which the sky is visible. Nearby stands a burnt-out car, and livestock grazes on the vacant lot.
“And this was our Orthodox church,” comments Valentyna Chernenko.
How and why did people return to the ruins?
Today 113 residents already live in Nezlamne, including 25 children. Before the full-scale invasion 492 people lived here. Despite the destruction of all buildings in the village, the first families began returning to spend the winter as early as late 2022.
The very first aid was provided by volunteers and religious organizations – they brought tarpaulin, OSB boards and plastic sheeting.
A local resident passes us on an electric scooter. Maneuvering between craters from munitions, she greets the elder. Valentyna Chernenko explains: she is a mother of many children; her husband was killed at the end of 2022. Religious organizations built a new timber-frame house for this family from scratch – from the very foundation.
We meet local resident Nina on the street. She tells how before the war the village prospered and people rushed to plant flowers by their yards. Nina’s family spent Easter 2022 in evacuation, leaving via a “green corridor”. But they couldn’t endure being away from home.
“My husband has a sick heart, and his soul was in great pain. People took us in, gave us somewhere to live, there was a roof over our heads – everything was there. But he longed for home and felt very bad. But I want to say: when we returned, he just blossomed,” says Nina.
The woman adds that they also returned out of respect for the defenders: “So that the guys who defended our land and gave us the opportunity to return here would know that what they did was not in vain.”
Nina shows her house, which seems split in half: one part painted blue with whitewashed shutters, and the other – bare brick. Instead of windowpanes – OSB boards.
“Every corner of the house had been hit. Russian forces shelled us from Myroliubivka and Petrivka. The roof was completely destroyed, walls too, windows and doors were blown out. It was simply a tear in the soul to see what we saw. The garden was covered with nurs (unguided aerial rocket projectiles – MOST). Every 2–3 meters there were craters: knee-deep in some places, waist-deep in others. We buried and filled all of these by hand,” recalls a resident of Nezlamne.
Steel collection in the yard
Traces of the war are still everywhere here – locals collect deadly metal lying right under their feet.
Sixteen-year-old Yaroslav leads us to his yard to show his “collection.” Here are piled shrapnel fragments, mines and casings, and in a neat row stand the remains of rockets. Green grass is already pushing up through the rusty metal.
The boy calmly sifts through the scrap with his hands and explains what exactly the Russians rained down on the village: “This was lying all over the village. Here — a 120mm mine, but it’s an illumination one. It would fly, break apart and light up. And these are nose cones from an ‘Uragan’ — well, cluster ones. And the cups from a ‘Grad’, it turns out…”
Two sides of the same village
Today Nezlamne lives as if in two different dimensions. On some streets life bustles – children run, houses get painted and livestock is tended. But there is another side. The outer street along the highway remains in ruins. Not a single house there has been restored, and so far no one has returned there.
Before the war this street was considered the richest and tidiest in the village. Now some of its residents have already received government certificates for destroyed property and bought housing in other regions of Ukraine. These empty ruins will have to be demolished in time.
“Such respectable owners lived here! Everything was neat, clean, beautiful. The whole village was thriving. It’s painful to look at this now,” says Valentyna Chernenko.
Leaving Potyomkine at the beginning of 2022, people returned to Nezlamne. But what makes this name real are not the documents, but the surviving walls painted blue, the fresh repairs in rebuilt rooms, and the children’s laughter that again rings out on streets cleared of metal. Despite every house bearing traces of impacts, people continue to live here: riding electric scooters and planting fields.