The 'love train' in which Ukrainian women visit their husbands who are fighting against Russia
The 22-year-old is traveling on the so-called "love train," which departs from the Ukrainian capital, Kyiv, to meet the man she loves in Kramatorsk.
Sasha travels on a night train that goes deep into a war zone. The 22-year-old is traveling on the so-called "love train," which departs from the Ukrainian capital, Kyiv, to meet the man she loves in Kramatorsk, a city in the Donetsk region in the east of the country. The meeting will be eagerly awaited, but also brief. While sipping her morning coffee, Sasha tells BBC News: "I'm not worried about myself, but about my husband. Right now, he's coming out of his shell." The journey is exhausting and very dangerous, but for Sasha, it's worth the effort. "The outbound journey may be long, but it's full of hope. However, the return trip is more difficult," she says. Since November 5, 2025, Ukrainian Railways has suspended train services in Donetsk due to the intensification of attacks on railway infrastructure. Now, the train doesn't stop in Kramatorsk itself, but in a small town two hours away by bus. "And during that transfer, anything can happen," says Sasha. "But it's good that the trains are still running, because that gives hope," she adds. A possible move to Kramatorsk. Sasha got married in August 2025. "Dmytro told me right away: you'll be my wife. I didn't believe him. I hadn't planned on getting married before I was 25," she says with a smile. Her husband is a career military officer. He has spent seven of his 26 years in the Ukrainian armed forces. Sasha also has ties to the military. "All the men in my family serve. My father is a policeman, but after retiring he also joined the armed forces. My older brother is also in the army," she explains. Sasha travels to Kramatorsk almost every month. She wishes she could do it more often, but it's difficult for Dmytro to get leave. After the wedding, Sasha even considered moving to Kramatorsk. "We talked about it at the beginning of September. And a month ago, we talked about it again."And it was a week ago. "We talk about it all the time, but obviously it's not possible now because Kramatorsk is dangerous," he explains. Dmytro chooses relatively quiet and safe areas for their brief meetings, but even so,the city is still “very noisy” and there are “a lot of attacks.” “When he sleeps next to me, I'm not afraid of anything,” Sasha adds. The train he takes from Kyiv is high-speed. But that day, it's delayed by at least two hours. "It goes fast as far as Poltava, but once we get to the Kharkiv region, we have to take detours because of the bombing of infrastructure. You can never be sure when you'll arrive." “People find out as they go along,” explains the train inspector. Sometimes the journey gets even more complicated after the train reaches its final destination in the city of Barvinkove. On one occasion, the bus was parked far from the station and eventually left without her. “I saw a taxi driver,” Sasha recalls. "I simply persuaded her to take me to Kramatorsk. We drove through the fog for about three hours." The road was full of potholes.”
“The only thing that helps me keep going is common sense: that we're still alive, there's communication, transportation, and we can see each other,” Sasha says with a smile.
And after each encounter, she starts preparing for the next one.
Couples on one side, evacuates on the other
At the Barvinkove platform, people disembark cautiously. The evening mist adds atmosphere and, for some, a sense of calm. “When it's foggy, fewer drones fly,” the grandmothers whisper to each other.
In the darkness, those getting off the train aren't quite sure where to go. The only option is to follow the crowd, made up mostly of people in camouflage.
“I approach the couple to chat. took valerian so I wouldn't cry. “Last time I cried the whole time and we couldn't say a proper goodbye,” says Polina, who met Andriy on a bus four months ago. He was on his way to enlist in the army. She was returning home from the coast. Polina is 24 years old and this is her first visit to Kramatorsk. Before, Andriy used to travel to Kyiv on weekends. "We haven't been together very long and we really longed for this time alone together. At one point, I told Andriy that I didn't care anymore: I would come even if it was just for half a day, just to have a coffee together," she says. Andriy was eventually given a weekend pass, and Polina bought a train ticket. "Long-distance relationships are difficult," Polina admits. "When Andriy doesn't answer, I start to worry immediately... but he might just be taking a shower or something. Besides, every time we see each other, I feel like we have to get used to each other's physical presence all over again, because we haven't known each other for that long." The danger is constant. Early this morning, when Polina's train arrived back in Kyiv, she heard explosions on the platform. That night, the capital had issued one of its longest air raid alerts: more than 10 hours. Later,Dozens were confirmed wounded and two killed. Meanwhile, the trains that take couples to the frontline cities also take families away from them. Local authorities regularly urge residents to leave for their safety. The battlefront is only 20 km from the cities of Kramatorsk and Sloviansk. Both are under constant bombardment and also within range of drones. Every day, some 200 people arrive at the evacuation center on the border of the Kharkiv and Donetsk regions seeking safety. Some travel in their own vehicles with a clear plan for their future lives. Others wait for the Ukrainian Railways evacuation train, which, although delayed due to the constant Russian attacks, will eventually arrive. “I'm already looking forward to the next meeting,” Sasha says wistfully. “There is simply no time for tears or despair.”
With additional reporting from the BBC Global Journalism Team.

