Taking a pickup to Hector
‘This could be the last goodbye’
Door Sean Campbell
By Sean Campbell
Sean Campbell
July 26, 2024
Departing for Ukraine
It’s 4.30 on a Friday morning in Groningen. The early dawn has begun brightening the sky, casting a dim light on a metallic gray RAM 1500 pickup truck parked on the Van Brakelplein.
The car is filled to the brim with backpacks, generators, and storage boxes. Nick Schoonbeek, a UG international relations alumnus, throws his gym bag on the backseat before getting in. Time is ticking and he has a 2,500-kilometre drive ahead of him to Kharkiv, Ukraine.
The plan is to deliver the truck to Nick’s buddy Hector, who quit his studies over a year ago to join the Ukrainian army. Hector – who trained as an army medic in his home country of Finland – and his squad are in dire need of supplies. But most of all, they need that pickup truck. ‘It’s our number one priority. It’s not just a means of transportation, it will also keep them safe. That’s what they need the most’, says Nick.
The truck is our number one priority
Ever since Hector left, Nick and his friends have done all they can to raise awareness and money to help him. By reaching out to local news outlets and putting up stalls at markets to collect donations, they have successfully raised 15,000 euros and spent it all on this one vital pickup truck. ‘I love that we all got together for this.’
Their actions even piqued the interest of Dutch television broadcaster BNNVARA. A small crew consisting of a presenter, producer, and cameraman will join Nick halfway through the trip for the programme Voorvechters, which follows young activists and will air later this year.
Jelmer, fluent in both Ukrainian and Russian, will be the driver. Jelmer is an old hand by now, having been to Ukraine and back six times. This is Nick’s first trip. He’s excited and nervous. Not about driving into a war-torn country, but to see his best friend again. ‘That’s what I’m looking forward to the most.’
First stop: Warsaw, Poland. A sixteen-hour drive.
July 27, 2024
On the road to Kyiv
It’s day two and the BNNVARA crew has joined. The mood in the car is relaxed, even though the guys have been held up at the Polish-Ukrainian border for four hours. ‘I wasn’t bored at all. I wouldn’t mind doing it again with these guys!’ Nick smiles.
They’re driving through the vast Ukrainian countryside. Apart from Soviet-era Lada’s and the occasional golden-tipped orthodox church, all Nick has seen for hours is blue and yellow. ‘It’s the same landscape everywhere. Just yellow wheat fields and blue skies.’
Suddenly, it clicks. The two colors in the Ukrainian flag represent the country’s landscape. ‘It genuinely looks like it does on the flag’, Nick says. ‘Some people might find it boring, but I think it’s pretty cool.’
He knows there’s a war going on, but strangely enough, here, you don’t really notice. ‘People are just living their everyday lives,’ Nick says. ‘It almost feels like we’re driving through Poland or Germany.’
July 28, 2024
Traces of the war
But by the time they arrive in Kyiv, 2,000 kilometres into the journey, the situation has totally changed. Here, the chilling sound of air raid sirens can be heard regularly, blaring through the streets. And the people hardly seem to notice, as they have grown accustomed to the noise. One night, the entire city, which houses three million citizens, is pitch black. ‘The Russians bombed the power stations.’
I’m mainly anxious to see Hector again
The traces of war become more apparent with every kilometre they drive in the direction of Kharkiv, a couple of hours away from where Hector is stationed. Military vehicles are everywhere and checkpoints delay their progress. ‘They’re stopping us to ask what we’re doing and where we’re going, and they keep checking our papers.’
Nick is growing more anxious by the hour. Not because of the fast approaching war – the Russian border is only 40 kilometres away after all. Hector’s stories have prepared Nick for what is to come. ‘I’m mainly anxious to see Hector again.’
July 28, 2024
The reunion
It’s not going to be Kharkiv itself where Nick will finally see his friend Hector again. The BNNVARA crew has safety concerns and so they choose a nearby village, roughly twelve kilometres from Kharkiv. Everything’s now set up to film the reunion.
It’s 2:30 p.m. Around ninety minutes have passed since they got there. And then, finally, a car comes driving around the corner. The passenger door flies open and out comes Hector, sprinting towards the first familiar face he’s seen in over a year. He yells as Nick embraces him and picks him up. ‘How are you?’ Nick asks once Hector’s back on solid ground. ‘Exhausted’, the latter answers.
‘It was an emotional reunion for both of us. We couldn’t hide how we felt’, Nick says afterwards. And for two quite stoic individuals, that does really say something.
He was… I wouldn’t say upset, but pretty intense
The war is not something Hector likes to talk about. He’s doing that more than enough already. And so the conversation turns to small talk, their friends in Groningen, and the new friends Hector has made in Ukraine.
It doesn’t take long before they slip back into their old ways, joking around like nothing’s changed. ‘We’ve still got the same sense of humour, the same inside jokes, the same things we talk about’, Nick says. ‘But I can tell how much the war has affected him. He was a little… I wouldn’t say upset, but pretty intense.’
They’re sitting in a restaurant, away from the cameras. When the conversation inevitably does circle back to the war, Hector talks about Ukrainian soldiers who were taken prisoner by the Russians.
‘One of them had been electrocuted with power cables. He’s now paralysed and can only move his eyes and mouth. Hector now knows how close the war is. Before, when he was in training, it was different. But now it’s the real deal.’
July 28, 2024
Farewell
Only two hours later, it’s time to say goodbye again. Hector must return to the front, so they hug one more time. It’s difficult for Nick. ‘We realised this could be the last time we’re saying goodbye. That’s pretty heavy.’
Still, as the lifesaving pickup truck drives away – straight to the border where it will be used to transport Hector and his squad, Nick is also content. ‘I’m glad that we were able to help him with this. But it’s kind of weird that something we bought only a week ago will now be used to help Ukrainian soldiers.’
How is Hector doing?
The pickup truck that Nick delivered may already have saved lives, Hector says. ‘It’s a work horse. It really carries everything.’
The other day, another team drove the RAM to a position only three kilometres from the front. There was a Russian offensive and they had to evacuate. ‘There were like five soldiers in the truck, five soldiers on top of it. There were explosions left and right and the RAM just drove and drove! If we’d had a shit car, those guys could not have been evacuated.’
Drone pilot
Hector works as a drone pilot now in South Luhansk. His old team is at the front. ‘They’re in a very bad position. There’s a lot of Russian attacks and a few guys have been wounded. It’s a mess.’
He is currently at a safe house, after a few days working at the front, about twenty kilometres removed from the first line. ‘Working there is mentally easy’, he says. ‘You don’t have time to think. You do what’s best, and in the moments where you can’t do anything, you sleep because you’re so tired.’
But here, where it’s relatively safe, there’s time to think. What is especially hard, Hector says, is that it’s becoming more difficult to talk to people back home, because they ‘just don’t get it’.
Not enough time
Seeing Nick again was ‘amazing’ though. ‘I haven’t had a talk like that ever in Ukraine. You live alone in your own bubble for so long, and then you meet somebody who you can call a friend.’
But he regrets the fact that their time together was so short and that there were cameras all the time. ‘I had to do this and that. I would have much preferred to just have a fucking talk with my buddy without being filmed.’
Seeing his friend, he realised even more what he left behind. ‘It’s been almost a year. In the beginning, I was like a tourist. It wasn’t my life, it was just a trip. But now, it’s my life. And yeah, I miss home, I miss Nick. I miss the university. I miss Groningen.’