The world's largest minefield
Landmines are part of the deadly legacy of the Ukraine war
As Andrij Nalezhatyi, his father and cousin made their way across their frosty plot of land in the village of Dovhenke in Eastern Ukraine in February, they knew they had to choose their steps carefully. Scattered across the field could be mines and other dangerous debris of war.
It was their first time back on their rural land since Ukrainian forces recaptured it from the Russians in the fall of 2023.
They wanted to assess the field to see if they would be able to plant a cereal crop there in the months ahead. They didn’t make it far.
“I fell immediately to the ground. I felt pain in my leg. It was hard to breathe,” Nalezhatyi said, recalling the moment one of the three triggered a tripwire, setting off an explosion.
"I immediately understood that it was an anti-infantry mine.”
By the time the ambulance arrived over an hour later, his father, Ivan Nalezhatyi, 48, and his cousin, 30, were dead.
Nalezhatyi survived, but his leg and hip bones were shattered. He now has shrapnel lodged in his chest and in his back near his spine. More than two months later, he still uses crutches to get around. A cast covers most of his left leg.
If he’d arrived at the hospital half an hour later, he would have died, too, he was told.
More than two years since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of the country, Ukraine is now considered the largest minefield in the world, according to deminers working in the country, with as many as
two million mines scattered across fields, forests and communities.
The majority were laid by Russian forces, although Ukraine has been laying them in some areas, as well.
The often-inconspicuous devices can remain on the landscape for decades, creating a prolonged danger and further stunting Ukraine’s agricultural heartland by making farm fields too dangerous to access.
As much as
30 per cent of the country could be contaminated, according to government estimates, with the majority planted in and around communities on the front line. The cost to demine and clear the land will run into the tens of billions of dollars.
Hundreds killed or injured
Landmines have been detected in 11 regions across Ukraine, including in the Kyiv oblast and in the south in Kherson, where Russian forces were pushed back by Ukraine’s military in the late fall of 2022.
Typically found on the ground or just below the surface, they can be set off when pressure is exerted on them, or if they are triggered by a tripwire.
Since Feb. 24, 2022, more than 400 civilians have been killed by landmines or other explosive ordinances, according to the HALO Trust, a non-governmental humanitarian organization that has been clearing landmines in Ukraine since 2015. HALO, which stands for Hazardous Area Life-Support Organization, compiles its data using open source information, which its team later works to verify.
The number of people injured by landmines in that period ranges from 668, according to the Ukrainan military, to 1,155, by HALO’s count. Estimates vary due to how difficult it is to gather information from Russian-occupied areas.
In the battered hospital of Izyum, which itself came under attack in the spring of 2022, Dr. Yurij Kuznetsov has seen dozens of victims rushed in after stepping on or driving over a landmine. Most of the injuries involve the legs. About 70 per cent of all cases require amputation, he estimates.
“We have civilians who say that, ‘We walked this road 100 times, but blew up on the 101st time,’” he told CBC News.
In other cases, people see a mine on the ground and make the dangerous decision to pick it up.
“We have people who for some reason believe that what harms everyone will not harm them.
“For example, they take a grenade and try to demine it themselves.”
Izyum was one of Russia’s earliest targets. A key transportation gateway to the Donbas region, it was captured by the Russian military in April 2022, and occupied until Ukraine liberated it as part of a lightning offensive in the northeast later that fall.
Many of the mines in the area were laid by Russian forces as they built up their fortifications or retreated from areas to slow a Ukrainian advance.
Since the start of the invasion, Russia has used at least 13 types of anti-personnel mines — which target humans, as opposed to vehicles — according to a report by
Human Rights Watch (HRW).
Ukraine also has a significant stockpile of anti-personnel mines that it inherited during the fall of the Soviet Union, the report’s authors noted. HRW found evidence that the country repeatedly used thousands of small landmines as it fought to try and reclaim occupied areas.
‘Butterfly’ mine
One of the most common mines found in Ukraine is known colloquially as the “butterfly” or “petal” mine because the 12-centimetre device looks like it has two wings or petals. Officially, it is called a PFM-1.
The mines, which were used extensively by the Soviet Union during its invasion of Afghanistan, carry 37 grams of explosives and can be scattered by aircraft or rocket artillery.
They are typically green or brown, and therefore can be difficult to see in the grass or on the dirt.
They can also settle on top of buildings or trees temporarily, and fall to the ground later when they are disturbed. Just five kilograms of pressure can set them off.
On July 4, 2023, when Lidia Borova, 70, headed into the woods near her home in Izyum to pick mushrooms, she was already very familiar with butterfly mines.
So familiar that when she spotted one lying in the forest, she thought it must have fluttered down from a tree, because she hadn’t seen it there the last time she went through the woods. During previous strolls, she had seen markers, including sticks of various colours, stuck in the ground, warning about the presence of mines.
But Borova was undeterred.
After gathering mushrooms, she started to head back to her car, which was 30 metres up the road. As she walked, she looked at the vegetation along the side, hoping she might be able to spot a chanterelle growing under the trees.
Suddenly, an explosion tore through her right leg, flinging the bucket she was carrying into the air. Her phone was attached to it.
Bleeding and dizzy, she crawled several metres toward her phone, so she could call a friend to come rescue her.
She kept calling every five minutes because she worried about losing consciousness. In an interview from her house in Izyum, she told CBC News that she couldn’t remember the drive to the hospital.
“I don’t regret it,” she said.
“I'm 70 years old. I'm not afraid of anything anymore.”
As she sits on her couch in her living room, she rolls up her pink track pants to show a prosthetic limb where her lower leg used to be.
But the life-changing injury appears to not have slowed her down.
She bounds through her backyard garden and greenhouse with hardly a limp, showing off where she is growing tomatoes and cucumbers.
“I can work in the garden for two hours. Without any difficulties.”
Evidence of Ukraine’s landmine use
During the initial days after Izyum was liberated,
HRW sent a team to the area to speak with local residents, first responders and doctors.
In a report, the New York-based group said it documented numerous cases of petal mines being fired into Russian-occupied areas and near Russian military facilities by rocket artillery. The team was able to verify 11 civilian casualties.
HRW, which has previously produced investigations
on landmine use by Russia forces, concluded in its report that Ukraine “appears to have extensively scattered landmines around the Izyum area.”
In a response at the time to the investigation, Ukraine’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs
said the HRW report would be “duly studied,” and that the country “fully implements” its obligations under international law.
Anti-personnel mines are prohibited under the
1997 Anti-Personnel Mine Ban Treaty, which Ukraine ratified in 2005, and onto which Russia never signed.
For Borova, there is no doubt in her mind who is responsible for her injury and the war that has decimated communities throughout the east.
“Only [Russians] are to blame for the fact that they have caused this destruction,” said Borova.
Decades to demine
In June 2023, the
Soviet-era Nova Kakhovka dam collapsed, unleashing a torrent of water and flooding areas downstream along the Dnipro River. Russian forces were controlling the dam at the time, and both Russian and Ukrainian militaries accused each other of blowing it up.
The deluge washed away homes and vehicles, and most certainly displaced landmines that hadn’t been cleared yet.
The HALO Trust said the floodwaters impacted 17 known minefields.
“We know down by the front line, there are certainly landmines that moved,” said Jasmine Dann, a regional manager for HALO who is based in Mykolaiv in Southern Ukraine, but grew up in Belleville, Ont.
HALO employs more than 1,200 Ukrainians in demining work, and is looking to hire around 300 more by the end of the year.
As Dann spoke to CBC News by Zoom, demining training was taking place on a mock minefield behind her.
HALO, founded in Afghanistan, recruits locals in all its areas of operations, as it believes they should be empowered to clear their own land. All recruits go through an intensive month-long training to qualify as deminers; a small group of highly qualified senior deminers are trained in explosive ordnance disposal.
Among its new recruits in Ukraine: a manicurist and lawyer.
“What we are seeing in Ukraine really is on a level that we haven’t seen in decades,” said Dann, who’s previously worked in Sri Lanka and Somalia clearing landmines.
“The Ukraine conflict has also shown us really widespread usage of landmines, something that previously, I think a lot of people thought was going out of practice within modern militaries.”
According to HALO, one of the most common mines their teams see are anti-vehicle mines like the TM-62, which both Ukraine and Russia have used. They are comparatively large, weighing around eight kilograms, and are designed to destroy military vehicles.
Dann says in the south, her team frequently sees the OZM-72. The device is usually olive green, and when it is set off, the casing is propelled into the air and explodes, enabling it to spray metal fragments over a larger area.
Since Russia launched its attack, HALO has cleared over 19,000 landmines and other unexploded munitions. With such a large portion of Ukraine possibly contaminated by mines, the government and groups like HALO are working to prioritize areas that should be cleared first.
HALO uses drones to try and identify where landmines are, while other teams are sent into fields and forests with metal detectors. Robots are also used extensively.
If they find a mine, they carefully excavate and destroy it. HALO uses thermite to ignite and burn the devices, but recently got approval to start blowing them up with explosions.
Dann says HALO is focusing on clearing the Russian-laid minefields, because they are finding that the Ukrainian forces have been removing their mines once they have left an area.
Costly cleanup
The World Bank estimates that it will cost $37 billion US to demine Ukraine.
Several countries including the U.S., the U.K. and Canada — which has contributed more than $35 million to demining — have contributed. Companies have also donated equipment, and Ukraine has received additional funding from organizations like the Howard Buffett Foundation.
The spring months often carry the most risk, as people are getting out into gardens and fields. There has been a high proportion of accidents among farmers, with more than 150 killed or injured in landmine accidents, according to data that Ukraine’s defence ministry provided to CBC News.
On March 31, Artem Korolev, 31, was driving his tractor down a well-travelled road in the village of Krymky in Donetsk oblast. He was on his way to his grandfather’s house to make repairs, which were badly needed after months of war and occupation.
He knew that the area had been swept for mines already, so didn’t think much when he needed to back up and turn around the tractor.
“I moved a little to the right, a little to the left, and it just happened,” he said, describing an explosion that tore through his tractor and the right side of his body.
“A neighbour was next to the tractor … I shouted at him, ‘Am I in one piece or not?’”
Korolev spoke to CBC News from his hospital bed in Izyum, where he says Dr. Kuznetsov and the rest of the medical team “sewed and glued together” his body in different ways.
The blast severely injured his hip, spine and leg. He’s expected to be in hospital for three more months.
“I hope I will be able to walk … and everything will be fine,” he said.
“But we will never forgive the Russians for this.”
https://www.cbc.ca/newsinteractives/features/ukraine-war-landmines