We are living in a time of a historic crime that has left everyone feeling shocked and stunned. The Russian war in Ukraine has been going on for over a month now with the humanitarian crisis worsening by the day. Millions have fled the country, not knowing what has happened to loved ones, when they can return or whether there will be anything left to return to if they do. All over Europe, thousands of people have organised themselves to help Ukrainians in any way they can.
As an Estonian company with colleagues from or ties to Ukraine, we felt the desperation and shock first-hand. People within the company took action and we would like to publish a story to offer an insight into what our colleagues within Ampler did when the war broke out.
The urge to help
Ott Ilves was in the city. The city is Berlin and Ott is the former Chief of Marketing and a good friend of Benni, the event manager of Ampler Bikes.
“Benni, we have to do something,” he said and that got the ball rolling.
It was the day when over half a million people had taken to the streets in Berlin against the war in Ukraine. The two had made contact with an association that had set up a post at Schlesisches Tor.
“They are looking for helpers who want to take medicine, equipment and clothes to Ukraine. The association has set up a collection point, but has no cars or drivers.”
On the phone was Ardo, the co-founder of Ampler Bikes. He greenlighted using the company car and fuel card at the company’s expense. Benni and Ott met up at Space Medusa, the Ukrainian pub at Schlesisches Tor.
Benni’s wife Katya comes from Ukraine and was able to help with the translations. There was hectic chaos on site. Various buses and vans were filled with equipment. The association was mainly concerned with relief goods such as protective waistcoats, medicines or old NVA helmets (From the National People’s Army). The Ampler bus was filled to the ceiling with usable items. A sleeping bag and a few blankets were also packed for the coming bitterly cold nights.
The journey went through the whole of Poland, via Kraków, Roslav and to the border crossing towards Lviv. The days were marked by a deep loss. A loss of reliability for the future of Europe, a loss of humanity. How could anyone care so little for humans? The urge to help came up against this paralysing feeling of losing control.
They arrived around 10 p.m. at the meeting point. As arranged, the password was given: “Slava Ukraini”, meaning “Glory of Ukraine”. The hall door opened. Then it was quick. Five people lent a hand and quickly emptied the car.
It was getting late. The idea came up to offer someone rideshare. As the bus was emptied now, this would be easily doable. So they drove on, towards a bus station at the Ukrainian border. “It was freezing cold, and later it snowed. We arrived there in the car. It was a huge, floodlit car park with a lot of cars with Ukrainian number plates. The Red Cross had put up tents”, Benni told us, “Many people came from all over Europe to take their families from Ukraine.”
Ott had spotted a van with Estonian number plates. The driver helped distribute the refugees among the cars ready to give a lift. And that’s how the two met a mother and her child who were heading from Kyiv towards Berlin. Ott was able to speak a little Russian with them. They hadn’t slept for 24 hours and had finally gone to rest in the car.
Upon their return to Berlin, Benni and Katya offered the mother and her daughter a place to sleep. A few days later, Benni and Katya brought the two to the train station. With the train tickets onwards to their friends in their hands, the four of them hugged with tears in their eyes.