12 minute read
Racing to Ukraine
Julia Bennet is a freelance horsebox driver mainly driving for Lambourn Racehorse Transport and Lambourn-based trainers. She also rides out for trainer Ali Stronge and is vice president of the National Association of Racing Staff. Since April, she has been on four trips to the Ukraine-Polish border with supplies for horses, animals and humans. On the return journey she was keen to offer transport to any refugees who were seeking a lift to the UK and to safety, and on her latest mission she achieved that goal.
On the next few pages we have reprinted her emotive diaries as originally written on the Lambourn facebook community page, they give some idea of the anguish and torment that is taking place in Ukraine and the challenges she and the team have had to overcome.
If you would like to offer some support , please go to www.racingtohelpukraine.uk
June 27
“HI EVERYONE, THANK YOU FOR TUNING IN. Today has been probably the toughest day I’ve ever spent out here, everyone is absolutely shattered tonight. As I write that “tough day” comment down I’m trying to understand what exactly made it so tough. Well it’s lots of things really, I will try to explain.
The temperatures out here are very high currently, it’s rarely dipping below 30 during the day and steadily climbs to around 34 in the afternoon and this trip had us do two solid days driving to get out here. That was followed by a day of multiple aid drops in order to supply the reliable chains who are taking aid into Ukraine to fill an ever-increasing demand from those who are returning to the remains of their homeland.
The full range of human emotions are put through their paces at top speed on a day like today.
First, it is because we made it out here for the fourth time since April.
Second, that our communities and local businesses have yet again stepped up to provide the goods that we are delivering, and the vehicles to carry them out here. It is truly humbling to see such generosity in abundance from so many people, including some we hardly know.
Third, there’s the physical hard graft of unloading tonnes of supplies by hand and sorting and stacking it all into various warehouses for further distribution.
And during that process we are walking amongst refugees, who have witnessed the horrors of this barbaric war and decided enough is enough. They are tearful, exhausted, frightened, displaced and have a carrier bag holding the remains of their old life... and that is it.
So when the long drive, the work and the heat start to make us feel weary we have to check ourselves and remember how easy we actually have it.
I said goodbye to a guy we have met many times on these trips and he is now taking his family back to Odessa.
Before the Russian invasion I had never heard of Odessa, but now we all have and we know this is a really risky move. We just have to hope for him and his family.
He has shown such gratitude to us for coming to help him, his family and fellow countrymen.
Since the first time I came out here I felt we should avoid coming home with empty vehicles if at all possible and so far we have always provided lifts for people, even if just across Europe.
I had tried and failed a couple of times to arrange transport for any refugees travelling to the UK, and had even been told I was wasting my time.
But tomorrow, my friends, that changes thanks to a charity working out here and an inner perseverance trait that I have been known to harbour.
We have a few more humanitarian aid drops to do in the morning and then we will pick up a few people and pets and start making our way home.
There will be many tears shed along this intrepid journey to the free world.
These people have lost so much and said so many goodbyes. Their lives are full of danger and uncertainty and they are basically being forced to place their trust in multiple people whom they do not know. This trip has involved quite a few new faces and everyone has really stepped up brilliantly. It’s truly wonderful to know how many good people there actually are. Thank you.”
July 1
DEAREST LAMBOURN, please accept my apology for the lateness of this update, tiredness suddenly caught up with me. This trip has been an emotional roller-coaster like no other. It’s been tough on every level for everyone involved but somehow we have made it back to the UK – not only in one piece but also with four Ukrainians, two cats and a dog who are now going to call England “home”; it is the conclusion of a dream I had in early April as we drove home on the first convoy.
It seems so simple to fit all that into one paragraph, but to actually get through the entire process required truly monumental efforts from a top team of people from multiple agencies, the bulk of whom are volunteers who have only been working in their new roles since early March.
We were in Przemysl doing our final aid drop on the same day that Russia chose to kill 1,000 Ukrainian people in a shopping centre; it really was not that far away.
We met our first couple outside the refugee centre in Przemysl, while we were unloading our donations.
All of a sudden I heard Charlie [Thornycroft] saying, “Julia, your people are here”.
I turned around to see a man who looked truly terrified, wide eyed and looking at me, perhaps wondering if I was the “...watching a grown man weep due to the absolute fear of his situation was heartbreaking; after 65 years of life, his wife and he had just one suitcase each for their belongings one who could take him and his wife to safety.
They had been displaced from Odessa since early March and the toll that had taken on both of them was all too clear to see.
I introduced myself, borrowed a car and took them to the house they had been staying in so they could collect their few belongings, say goodbye to their host and some friends they had made.
Their host was a deaf preacher and he was in a neighbouring town working and wasn’t able to say goodbye. Obviously with my limited (zero) language skills I couldn’t offer much assistance, but their friends came to say goodbye instead. So many hugs. So many tears.
I found myself feeling an enormous sense of responsibility for these people whom I had only just met and been entrusted with to get them to the UK safely.
Later that evening when we were having dinner they received a message from their host and they cried and showed it to me. The wonders of modern technology meant I could hover my phone over the text using Google Translate and then screenshot what it said. I needed tissues.
We agreed to swap the driver teams round so that driver David [Dormer] could stay with the couple to reassure them we would look after them.
It is worth saying that Dave and I used to see each other at the races until the first Covid lockdown. He rang me about six weeks ago and said he had been following our trips on Facebook and wondered if we would be interested in a “retired pensioner with terminal cancer” coming along on the next one? Obs! Of course he could come!
I know Dave will cry when he reads this but the compassion and empathy of this man was an absolute inspiration to us all. He immediately connected with this couple and identified the reassurance they needed.
JENNY [Cassan] and Neil [Carson] set off on that endless journey home, while myself and Sharon [Ingram] headed off to collect the now famous Great Dane, Bella.
It was a real honour to be entrusted with her safe travel to the UK. She holds almost saint-like status to the children and workers at the horse hub, which is some 15 minutes north of Rzeszow, where she stayed for several months.
She has had many a heartbreaking secret whispered into those giant ears by those escaping this barbaric war. With all the trauma she endured to reach the hub she remains deeply loyal to humans. A war hero if ever there was one.
We drove a while and then Sharon, travelling with Aidan [Bocci] swapped with Jonathan [Harding, Racing Post] and we collected another two people from further into Poland, this time a young girl and her granny and their cats.
And so off we all trundled back the way we came about 30-hours earlier. Our overnight stop wasn’t quite what we had planned but the refugees unanimously said they had known far worse and that we really shouldn’t worry.
By that point I was pretty happy just to share a bean bag with the dog on the floor in the back of the lorry, I was that tired. I reckon we slept about three hours each and then we set off for the docks and the hard border that stands in the way of these people’s future. Thanks to our brilliant shipping agent Ben, my paperwork “blip” (understatement right there) was fixed, the passports were stamped and we were on the ship sailing towards Harwich. Aside from the older gentleman, none of the others had ever left Ukraine before so the ferry crossing was a different world.
Once on the ship the young girl became very distressed having been told to leave her cats. She thought she was being told she couldn’t bring them to the UK, not just that they couldn’t come upstairs. Those moments are so desperate when you feel like you’ve added to more trauma due to the language barrier. Thankfully it was all sorted and peace restored.
In the media there have been multiple stories of people being forced to leave animals at train stations at the very last minute because there is no room on the train. I simply cannot imagine having to face a choice of that magnitude.
We were blessed with a smooth crossing and, as if by magic, we arrived at the docks. Safe. England feels especially safe after those trips.
There was one interesting moment at Border Control as apparently Ukrainian refugees don’t usually arrive by freight.
They do now.
The hand overs went very smoothly with the logistics team working like clockwork and the girls and cats were met by a driver who took them to Leeds. He already had the guinea pig in the car that he’d collected earlier from Calais.
The poor girl had another moment then and cried “Pig”? She must have been thinking ‘Who on earth are these people?!’ But on meeting the guinea pig it was all good again.
We said our goodbyes knowing we would probably never meet again, just knowing that we share part of their history.
And there are millions of people living like that but if we can make something a little brighter, a little easier, then we will. We dropped the older couple a little further along the road and went through the same farewell of hugs and tears and hoping that it will all be okay for them.
It was way past midnight and we were already receiving messages that our supplies had been safely delivered into Ukraine. The 20km of donated electric fencing will be set up to graze horses to save money on feed, and also to fence off areas in villages that are not yet cleared of land mines. This is a long and brutal war. There are stories of genocide and brutal torture, and remaining Ukrainians declaring that the dead are the lucky ones.
We dropped the lorry off and noticed the milkman was already up and out on his rounds; it was nearly dawn again.
What an extraordinary effort. This team signed up to deliver some horse and dog feed and ended up being a part of history. Ukraine, you are in our hearts forever and it is our honour to help you.
And Lambourn, what can I say? Thank you for getting stuck into this, it is so humbling to see such generosity. I and the team feel so blessed to have met so many wonderful donators and volunteers through this and all the other trips. There will be more trips. Bless you all and thank you.”