Mykhailo Puryshev: The Hero of Mariupol’s Wild Escapes
Picture a city in flames, a village of smoke, and a single, red van that somehow keeps on rolling. That’s the story of Mykhailo Puryshev, a 36‑year‑old former nightclub owner turned guerilla‑style evacuator.
The Red Van Chronicles
- Six daring rides through the rubble of Mariupol.
- Transported over 200 refugees like a one‑man express.
- Neighbors joined the convoy, turning it into a makeshift family reunion.
- The van, once a glittering ‘party machine,’ now bears the scars of war—windshield smashed, three windows gone, and a side door gone missing.
Situations Inside Mariupol
The port city, considered a strategic jewel, is now a theatre of relentless strikes. Russia claims victory over the ruins, yet thousands of Ukrainian defenders cling to the catacombs beneath a massive steel‑works complex. The Ukrainian side estimates about 100,000 civilians trapped in the city’s haunted ruins.
Private Lifelines and Check‑in Live‑Streams
While official aid corridors appear to have stalled, Puryshev’s impromptu trips have been a lifeline for starving residents. He documented each run on his phone for the world to see—cheap, raw footage, and a rare, real‑time view where cell service has gone missing.
Voices From Both Sides
- Russia insists it is a “special operation” to disarm Ukraine and protect it from “fascists.”
- The Ukrainian government and the West argue the war is an unprovoked act of aggression, calling the “fascist” accusations a hoax.
Final Thought
As shelling rained down, Puryshev escaped the city with the courage of a hero in a robbed‑and‑burned neon dream. Even with a van more cratered than a war game, he kept moving, saving lives one wild ride at a time.
<img alt="" data-caption="A handout photo. Smoke billows from the rubble near a destroyed building, amid Russia's invasion of Ukraine, in Mariupol, Ukraine.
PHOTO: Reuters” data-entity-type=”file” data-entity-uuid=”43ca1598-538a-4682-9245-9bc8872a300a” src=”/sites/default/files/inline-images/27042022_building_handout.jpg”/>
The Van That Became a Battlefield
Picture this: a van, not a shiny luxury car, but the workhorse of a daring rescue crew. Between every daring drive, he rolled up his sleeves, fished out a toolkit, and gave it a quick repair. Nobody said it was glamorous, but it kept him chasing hope from one patch of darkness to the next.
Shelling, Strikes, and the Odd Scoreboard of War
- “The bus came under shelling, a strike, mortar, rifle fire—honestly, it looks like a battle‑scarred billboard,” he told reporters.
- Every dent and scorch mark on the van was a silent testimony to how many times it survived the relentless onslaught.
Eight‑Hour Drives Through Danger And Still
Driving through Russian‑occupied territory felt like playing a frantic game of “avoid the mine.” Every turn could trigger a hidden detonation, every stretch of road a risk. Eight hours to get to Mariupol but the journey didn’t feel that long when you’re constantly on edge.
Checkpoint Roulette & Mud & Corpses
- Checkpoints: the good ol’ “where’s a code to and are you dozing?” routine.
- Muddy potholes that could swallow a van like a black hole.
- Hitchhiking over a “moral” question—but it’s everyone’s path with an uncomfortable “your next stop is… casualties.”
Inside the City: The Invisible Hurdle of Loss
When the wartime train stopped in Mariupol, he didn’t stand there to stare at the tragedies that lay scattered like a bad Netflix poll. Trying to keep his sanity, he sweated over the concern that he might glimpse a child left behind and trigger a full-on emotional breakdown.
The Hilariously‑Morbid Club Shelters and the “Who’s On It?” mystic
- Remember the night club that turned into an unlikely bomb shelter? Yeah, that’s the same one.
- They set up a basement, and boom! 200 people—including a pregnant lady, an elderly gentleman, and the occasional baffled teenager—found refuge.
- Initial plan: rescue the club’s staff, but the shelter turned into a full‑blown people‑hugging factory. Everyone had to be birthed from imminent death—those who were hiding were rescued, and some who couldn’t help but take a breather at the bar.
The Unintended Recognized Heroes: Bar & Coffee‑Shop Workers, and Residents
People had found their final resting places in the middle of shopping centers, night clubs, elementary schools, and even near peace on the lines of the children. Bodies were rolled up in carpets and left on benches—turning the “idle” place into a “cursed cemetery of one‑day memories.”
From the making of an unforgettable van to the quirky lives of a club, this story is one that mixes the hopeful and the hard truth. It offers us a good reminder that behind all of these modern wars, humanity persists at its core—like a barrel of stagnant humor that tickles our conscience.
<img alt="" data-caption="A handout photo. Mykhailo Puryshev poses for a selfie photo with people fleeing Russia's invasion of Ukraine, in Zaporizhzhia, Ukraine.
PHOTO: Reuters” data-entity-type=”file” data-entity-uuid=”66d6fe63-3483-4ac3-a4b6-f353a9c91ea5″ src=”/sites/default/files/inline-images/27042022_%20Mykhailo_handout.jpg”/>
Walking the Edge in Mariupol
Silence that Screams
The eeriest moment came when the chaos fell silent. Imagine eight whole hours of absolute quiet—nothing, no sirens, no frantic footsteps. “That’s it, it’s over,” we thought. Then the storm returned, louder and more brutal than ever. The kids were so scared they had to wet themselves. It’s hard to picturing that so close to your own home.
Finding Food, Clothes, and a Little Hope
Despite the chaos, Uncle Misha kept his people fed and dressed. He’d roam the streets with scavengers—those “stalkers” who searched for food, clean clothes, even the tights for children who couldn’t get their dirty underwear washed. With a smirk, he’d hand out sweets and make every trickster he met feel like they’d just lived in front of the best bakery in the block.
Stories from the War
- “A widow once asked me to take her husband’s wedding ring off. He’d died in an airstrike. I just couldn’t do it.” He remembered the weight of that request.
- On March 28, a separatist soldier told him, “Don’t come back or you’ll be locked up—or worse.” That was the moment he realized it was time to stop marching in the war’s trenches.
- He faced only a single splinter. A glass shard jammed in his side. Thankfully, his coat protected him, and he only had a scratch.
God’s Little Guardian
He kept telling himself that God was the unseen shield in his corner. And he wasn’t completely wrong. Even the bus he rode somehow gave him a sense of security. He’s hopeful that when the fighting finally ends, his trusty vehicle will find its new purpose.
Post-War Plans
He’s got a dream for that bus: once war is behind us, he wants to transform it into a monument back in Mariupol. The idea is simple—turn what was once a lifeline into a silent reminder of why we fought.
