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If you are Russian at heart,
take a moment to pray
It's a great way to start,
if you haven't yet today
Let's all do our part
Let the Lord have His way
take a moment to pray
It's a great way to start,
if you haven't yet today
Let's all do our part
Let the Lord have His way
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Hello, I'm Daniel Martindale, the guy that Russian soldiers risked their lives to evacuate from the village where I had lived for two years, Bogoyavlenka. My purpose in starting this blog is primarily to comment on current events based on my personal experience before and during the conflict in Ukraine. I believe my time spent behind enemy lines as a Christian missionary gives me a unique point of view.
I've also accepted the position of ambassador for the multinational project Reverse🛬 - http://t.me/reverse_ua
To read my story, click here:
(EN) https://revers.press/tpost/1co286n841-hello-my-name-is-daniel-martindale
(RU) https://revers.press/tpost/hd8a02rc51-zdravstvuite-menya-zovut-deniel-martinde
I've also accepted the position of ambassador for the multinational project Reverse🛬 - http://t.me/reverse_ua
To read my story, click here:
(EN) https://revers.press/tpost/1co286n841-hello-my-name-is-daniel-martindale
(RU) https://revers.press/tpost/hd8a02rc51-zdravstvuite-menya-zovut-deniel-martinde
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Shepherd At War 👨🌾🪖 pinned «If you are Russian at heart, take a moment to pray It's a great way to start, if you haven't yet today Let's all do our part Let the Lord have His way»
Forwarded from Reverse
Мы будем представлять здесь авторов, которые уже примкнули к проекту Реверс. И начнём с того, кто недавно сумел удивить оба континента.
Дэниэл Мартиндейл – человек потрясающей судьбы. Тот самый американец, который помогал российским спецслужбам и недавно наконец был эвакуирован с украинской территории. Что привело его на этот сложный путь, итогом которого стала Богоявленка (сколь символично название), а затем и большая Россия?
Он поделился своей историей, пообещав рассказать и продолжение. Читайте на сайте Реверса.
———————————
We will be introducing the authors who have already joined the Reverse project here. And we’ll start with someone who recently managed to surprise both continents.
Daniel Martindale — a man with an extraordinary destiny. The very American who assisted Russian special services and was finally evacuated from Ukrainian territory not too long ago. What led him down this challenging path, culminating in Bogoyavlenka (a fittingly symbolic name), and then on to greater Russia?
He has shared his story, promising to tell more. Read it on the Reverse website.
Дэниэл Мартиндейл – человек потрясающей судьбы. Тот самый американец, который помогал российским спецслужбам и недавно наконец был эвакуирован с украинской территории. Что привело его на этот сложный путь, итогом которого стала Богоявленка (сколь символично название), а затем и большая Россия?
Он поделился своей историей, пообещав рассказать и продолжение. Читайте на сайте Реверса.
———————————
We will be introducing the authors who have already joined the Reverse project here. And we’ll start with someone who recently managed to surprise both continents.
Daniel Martindale — a man with an extraordinary destiny. The very American who assisted Russian special services and was finally evacuated from Ukrainian territory not too long ago. What led him down this challenging path, culminating in Bogoyavlenka (a fittingly symbolic name), and then on to greater Russia?
He has shared his story, promising to tell more. Read it on the Reverse website.
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Medics Are Listening part 1
Early on during my time in Bogoyavlenka, two Ukrainian medics decided to move into my house. BTW, Bogoyavlenka freely translated means "a glimpse of God". I put on a happy face, as if I were very happy to have them, but their presence was actually a very heavy burden to bear. Before they came I could freely watch Russian news, pray out loud for God to fight against Ukraine, to protect Russian troops. Now I had to be careful about my every word and facial expression. My Russian self had to die and be buried for a while. I even memorized The Lord's Prayer in Ukrainian so that I could lead Arkadii and Vasilii in prayer every evening. One night I recited the prayer exceptionally well, and Arkadii seemed to praise me, saying that I had become a real Ukrainian, but his eyes couldn't hide what he was really thinking. His face seemed ready to roar, "I know who you really are, you filthy Russian. How dare you try to decieve me with a prayer!"
Medics are listening Part 2
Medics Are Listening part 1
Early on during my time in Bogoyavlenka, two Ukrainian medics decided to move into my house. BTW, Bogoyavlenka freely translated means "a glimpse of God". I put on a happy face, as if I were very happy to have them, but their presence was actually a very heavy burden to bear. Before they came I could freely watch Russian news, pray out loud for God to fight against Ukraine, to protect Russian troops. Now I had to be careful about my every word and facial expression. My Russian self had to die and be buried for a while. I even memorized The Lord's Prayer in Ukrainian so that I could lead Arkadii and Vasilii in prayer every evening. One night I recited the prayer exceptionally well, and Arkadii seemed to praise me, saying that I had become a real Ukrainian, but his eyes couldn't hide what he was really thinking. His face seemed ready to roar, "I know who you really are, you filthy Russian. How dare you try to decieve me with a prayer!"
Medics are listening Part 2
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Imagine that you turn on the TV after work one evening and the news is exploding about an armed conflict between Canadian Indians and French Canadians in Eastern Canada, in Quebec and New Brunswick provinces.
For context, a few months earlier the Canadian parliment was stormed and taken over by French Canadians who protested against all military cooperation with the United States. Some armed protesters were responsible for killing and wounding police. The US military in response took control of the island Anticosti where their base and missile installations were located.
The Indian population on Anticosti welcomed the change because French-Canadian militias had been involved in mafia-style efforts to push the Indians off their island.
Canadian-Indians just across the border from Maine with support from Iroquois tribes from New York state, fearing repression from French- Canadian militias responded by voting to establish their part of Quebec and New Brunswick provinces as a separate province. They have taken control of government buildings in Campbelton and Fredricton and are reported to carry the stars and stripes as well as their own tribal coat of arms.
Now those same French-Canadian militias with support from the regular Canadian army have sent troops, armored vehicles and tanks to suppress what they are calling a terrorist rebellion. Canadian helicopters have started bombarding Campbelton and Frederickton.
Indian and British Canadians have banded together to defend their territory but they don't have sufficient armaments to fight for long. Many civilians have been killed and wounded by Canadian bombardments. Should the US military sit by and watch our neighbors be destroyed?
For context, a few months earlier the Canadian parliment was stormed and taken over by French Canadians who protested against all military cooperation with the United States. Some armed protesters were responsible for killing and wounding police. The US military in response took control of the island Anticosti where their base and missile installations were located.
The Indian population on Anticosti welcomed the change because French-Canadian militias had been involved in mafia-style efforts to push the Indians off their island.
Canadian-Indians just across the border from Maine with support from Iroquois tribes from New York state, fearing repression from French- Canadian militias responded by voting to establish their part of Quebec and New Brunswick provinces as a separate province. They have taken control of government buildings in Campbelton and Fredricton and are reported to carry the stars and stripes as well as their own tribal coat of arms.
Now those same French-Canadian militias with support from the regular Canadian army have sent troops, armored vehicles and tanks to suppress what they are calling a terrorist rebellion. Canadian helicopters have started bombarding Campbelton and Frederickton.
Indian and British Canadians have banded together to defend their territory but they don't have sufficient armaments to fight for long. Many civilians have been killed and wounded by Canadian bombardments. Should the US military sit by and watch our neighbors be destroyed?
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Shepherd At War 👨🌾🪖
☕️📖🕯 Medics Are Listening part 1 Early on during my time in Bogoyavlenka, two Ukrainian medics decided to move into my house. BTW, Bogoyavlenka freely translated means "a glimpse of God". I put on a happy face, as if I were very happy to have them, but their…
Medics Are Listening part 1
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Medics are listening part 2
One afternoon in late May or early June 2022 I was in my customary position sitting next to the entrance to my cellar. Day after day nothing seemed change. I could hardly find any news about the fighting near me, near Ugledar. All I knew was that the town Ugledar was under Ukrainian control and was regularly being hit. Being hit by who? Why? I wasn't sure yet. I was already convinced that Russia was in the right, but still I was interested in knowing the whole truth with all its nuances. I was lost in thought, searching for answers, or perhaps still searching for the right questions.
Out of the blue a tremendous double blast made the ground jump beneath me. I plunged into the cellar, expecting a second strike. It came almost immediately, even closer but not louder thanks to the cellar.
For some time I had been expecting a strike on the local school across the street from me. The school was teeming with soldiers from the very day when I had arrived. I had asked a soldier from the school for a house to stay in on my first day in town. Now that strike had come.
The next day Arkadii and Vasilii came to my house asking for a place to stay. Later Arkadii showed me a wound in his arm where a pellet from a cluster munition went straight through his tricep. He also recalled how the ceilings in the school had jumped when the second high explosive(HE) hurricane rocket struck just outside the school. He seemed to study my face extra closely when he said that a few soldiers had been killed and wounded. I suspect he was already testing to see what side I was really on.
Medics are listening part 3
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Medics are listening part 2
One afternoon in late May or early June 2022 I was in my customary position sitting next to the entrance to my cellar. Day after day nothing seemed change. I could hardly find any news about the fighting near me, near Ugledar. All I knew was that the town Ugledar was under Ukrainian control and was regularly being hit. Being hit by who? Why? I wasn't sure yet. I was already convinced that Russia was in the right, but still I was interested in knowing the whole truth with all its nuances. I was lost in thought, searching for answers, or perhaps still searching for the right questions.
Out of the blue a tremendous double blast made the ground jump beneath me. I plunged into the cellar, expecting a second strike. It came almost immediately, even closer but not louder thanks to the cellar.
For some time I had been expecting a strike on the local school across the street from me. The school was teeming with soldiers from the very day when I had arrived. I had asked a soldier from the school for a house to stay in on my first day in town. Now that strike had come.
The next day Arkadii and Vasilii came to my house asking for a place to stay. Later Arkadii showed me a wound in his arm where a pellet from a cluster munition went straight through his tricep. He also recalled how the ceilings in the school had jumped when the second high explosive(HE) hurricane rocket struck just outside the school. He seemed to study my face extra closely when he said that a few soldiers had been killed and wounded. I suspect he was already testing to see what side I was really on.
Medics are listening part 3
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Medics are listening part 2
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For my first few days in the village I did everything I could to figure out how far away the fighting was. My only indications were the distant sounds of explosions, sometimes barely audible, other times about as loud as a door being slammed shut. I had little to no idea what was making the noise. Tanks, howitzers, mortars, RPGs? I hadn't even thought about rockets, missiles, bombs, or anti-air and anti-missile systems.
Some days the explosions were a bit louder, giving me hope that I might not have to wait too much longer. On other days, a dead silence seemed to say, "You've got a long wait ahead".
I began to ignore even the louder noises. It seemed to me that there wasn't any real danger, so when washing dishes one morning and another "door slammed" the spoon in my hand didn't even tremble. I didn't get to finish putting it down though. I darted into the next room and plastered myself against the wall as a series of blasts made the house shudder. It sounded like a car had just slammed into the house two or three times. A cluster type hurricane rocket had been shot at the school. It activated, bursting open and scattering it's bomblets right near me.
One of the bomblets had landed in the street right in front of my place. The pellets from the bomblet had filled my front fence with holes, and put pits in the brick facade of my house, but I was fine.
I learned later that a soldier had been in his car in front of my house and was injured. One of the pellets had put a whole right through his arm. His name was Arkadii, the medic who would later live in my house.
Safety tip. I did completely the wrong thing when I heard the blast. I should have dropped to the floor immediately, and after 10 to 20 seconds, ran to the cellar for cover.
To be continued...
☕️📖🕯
For my first few days in the village I did everything I could to figure out how far away the fighting was. My only indications were the distant sounds of explosions, sometimes barely audible, other times about as loud as a door being slammed shut. I had little to no idea what was making the noise. Tanks, howitzers, mortars, RPGs? I hadn't even thought about rockets, missiles, bombs, or anti-air and anti-missile systems.
Some days the explosions were a bit louder, giving me hope that I might not have to wait too much longer. On other days, a dead silence seemed to say, "You've got a long wait ahead".
I began to ignore even the louder noises. It seemed to me that there wasn't any real danger, so when washing dishes one morning and another "door slammed" the spoon in my hand didn't even tremble. I didn't get to finish putting it down though. I darted into the next room and plastered myself against the wall as a series of blasts made the house shudder. It sounded like a car had just slammed into the house two or three times. A cluster type hurricane rocket had been shot at the school. It activated, bursting open and scattering it's bomblets right near me.
One of the bomblets had landed in the street right in front of my place. The pellets from the bomblet had filled my front fence with holes, and put pits in the brick facade of my house, but I was fine.
I learned later that a soldier had been in his car in front of my house and was injured. One of the pellets had put a whole right through his arm. His name was Arkadii, the medic who would later live in my house.
Safety tip. I did completely the wrong thing when I heard the blast. I should have dropped to the floor immediately, and after 10 to 20 seconds, ran to the cellar for cover.
To be continued...
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Shepherd At War 👨🌾🪖
Medics Are Listening part 1
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Medics are listening part 2
One afternoon in late May or early June 2022 I was in my customary position sitting next to the entrance to my cellar. Day after day nothing seemed change. I could hardly find any news about the…
☕️📖🕯
Medics are listening part 2
One afternoon in late May or early June 2022 I was in my customary position sitting next to the entrance to my cellar. Day after day nothing seemed change. I could hardly find any news about the…
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Meet Ivan I. Tverdovsky, the film director of the Reverse project. I hope you'll find him and his work as interesting as I do. He is shooting a documentary film, "Reverse", about the war in Donbass, about Donbass and its people. He was nice enough to arrange a short interview featuring myself. It will be released next spring after the release of his film.
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Medics are listening part 3
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Medics are listening part 4
Arkadii and Vasilii had a bad habit of telling me things that were useful for Russian intelligence. Even if I didn't pass the information to my Russian contact, it was still dangerous for me because, in theory, I might be responsible for the leak.
One evening I went to bed in the house, but couldn't go to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were in danger, that I should sleep in the cellar instead. I grabbed my pillow and headed for the cellar, but not without telling Arkadii about my feeling of foreboding. Vasilii was on his way out too. He had guard duty at the checkpoint down and across the bridge from the theater.
I was jolted awake sometime after midnight, and a couple minutes later Arkadii tumbled down the cellar stairs. A few minutes later everything shook again. It sounded like a train had slammed into the theater at full speed, but there is no railroad in Bogoyavlenka.
Vasilii came back in the morning unharmed but still shaking. He expressed his thanks for the warning, saying that he had seen one explosion with his own eyes. A few days earlier he had told me where their command and control center was located. Under the grocery store. That night it took a direct hit. Up to 20 soldiers were killed and went missing.
The command and control center was actually about 10 meters away from being under the grocery store. It was under the bar next door, the bar and grocery store all being part of one long building. Making the situation worse was the fact that the day before, Vasilii had taken me to the grocery store to buy catfood. I had bought all the catfood that they had as if I had known they there wouldn't be any more.
Later I could hear Vasilii and Arkadii arguing. It wasn't the first time that Vasilii stood up for me, but thankfully it was the last. A few days later the command came for their unit to leave the village. Arkadii left with a stiff handshake, but Vasilii with a hug and misty eyes. I haven't heard from them since. That was in late August, early September 2022.
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Medics are listening part 4
Arkadii and Vasilii had a bad habit of telling me things that were useful for Russian intelligence. Even if I didn't pass the information to my Russian contact, it was still dangerous for me because, in theory, I might be responsible for the leak.
One evening I went to bed in the house, but couldn't go to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were in danger, that I should sleep in the cellar instead. I grabbed my pillow and headed for the cellar, but not without telling Arkadii about my feeling of foreboding. Vasilii was on his way out too. He had guard duty at the checkpoint down and across the bridge from the theater.
I was jolted awake sometime after midnight, and a couple minutes later Arkadii tumbled down the cellar stairs. A few minutes later everything shook again. It sounded like a train had slammed into the theater at full speed, but there is no railroad in Bogoyavlenka.
Vasilii came back in the morning unharmed but still shaking. He expressed his thanks for the warning, saying that he had seen one explosion with his own eyes. A few days earlier he had told me where their command and control center was located. Under the grocery store. That night it took a direct hit. Up to 20 soldiers were killed and went missing.
The command and control center was actually about 10 meters away from being under the grocery store. It was under the bar next door, the bar and grocery store all being part of one long building. Making the situation worse was the fact that the day before, Vasilii had taken me to the grocery store to buy catfood. I had bought all the catfood that they had as if I had known they there wouldn't be any more.
Later I could hear Vasilii and Arkadii arguing. It wasn't the first time that Vasilii stood up for me, but thankfully it was the last. A few days later the command came for their unit to leave the village. Arkadii left with a stiff handshake, but Vasilii with a hug and misty eyes. I haven't heard from them since. That was in late August, early September 2022.
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Shepherd At War 👨🌾🪖
Medics are listening part 2
☕️📖🕯
For my first few days in the village I did everything I could to figure out how far away the fighting was. My only indications were the distant sounds of explosions, sometimes barely audible, other times about as loud as a…
☕️📖🕯
For my first few days in the village I did everything I could to figure out how far away the fighting was. My only indications were the distant sounds of explosions, sometimes barely audible, other times about as loud as a…
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By December of 2022 I had become heavily involved in village life by helping my neighbors, helping unload and pass out humanitarian aid. The need for firewood had already begun to be felt, and the locals organized to cut and truck in logs from a nearby forest. My part was to help deliver the logs around the village.
This was my first chance to get familiar with the village as a whole, to see where people lived. I did my best to memorize every place where civilians lived and make sure that the Russian army was informed accordingly.
I rode on a two-wheeled tractor with a young local guy to make the deliveries. As we were riding together one day he couldn't help but satisfy his curiosity. His question shocked me. He asked If I had come to the area in 2014. There must be a misunderstanding, I thought. I reminded him that I was American. He confirmed that he remembered that I was American, and asked if I was former military. At first I didn't know what to say, but finally when I found my tongue, I couldn't help but make sure that I had heard him correctly, "You mean that American troops have been here since 2014"? "Sure", he said, "some of them stayed on after the fighting calmed down in 2015, found girlfriends, started families". Even if it hadn't been so cold outside, the smoke coming from my ears would have been visible. If I had been eager to get rid of my U.S. passport before, now it was burning a hole in my pocket.
By December of 2022 I had become heavily involved in village life by helping my neighbors, helping unload and pass out humanitarian aid. The need for firewood had already begun to be felt, and the locals organized to cut and truck in logs from a nearby forest. My part was to help deliver the logs around the village.
This was my first chance to get familiar with the village as a whole, to see where people lived. I did my best to memorize every place where civilians lived and make sure that the Russian army was informed accordingly.
I rode on a two-wheeled tractor with a young local guy to make the deliveries. As we were riding together one day he couldn't help but satisfy his curiosity. His question shocked me. He asked If I had come to the area in 2014. There must be a misunderstanding, I thought. I reminded him that I was American. He confirmed that he remembered that I was American, and asked if I was former military. At first I didn't know what to say, but finally when I found my tongue, I couldn't help but make sure that I had heard him correctly, "You mean that American troops have been here since 2014"? "Sure", he said, "some of them stayed on after the fighting calmed down in 2015, found girlfriends, started families". Even if it hadn't been so cold outside, the smoke coming from my ears would have been visible. If I had been eager to get rid of my U.S. passport before, now it was burning a hole in my pocket.
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