Ukraine War Day #375: Secrets Of The Soledar Salt Mines [continued]

Dear Readers:

Continuing with this story by reporter Dmitry Steshin. Who had an amazing adventure touring a legendary salt mine of Soledar, in the Donetsk Oblast. This mine is just one of many. It is the most fascinating one because it contains an underground theme park which used to attract tourists. Including celebrity tourists, as you will see.

Where we left off: Steshin learned that the retreating Ukrainians had destroyed the mine equipment and electricity before leaving; therefore there was no automated cage for descent into the mine. He had to go down the old-fashioned way: climbing down a rickety series of rusty ladders and staircases, 90 levels in all!

Only way down: 90 storeys of rusty ladders!

Just Call Me Rus

Steshin: We squat on our haunches to get a bit of rest, at the 30th level. Still 38 to go. We are panting, our tongues hanging out. Under our feet is a kind of carpet made up of a soft salt suspension and clouds of rust. The salt also hangs in the air and tears at the lungs, the ventilation has been out of service since the New Year. I try to set up my tripod, but my guide tells me that it is forbidden to film him. Under no circumstances. Even from the back, or with his mask on — somebody might still recognize his voice. I had noticed before that this stormtrooper had a slight accent, which he occasionally struggled with, trying to speak more slowly and carefully. He explains:

“I am not from Russia. I am from [he names one of the Central Asian Republics]. If they find out who I am, then I might get a 5 or 10-year sentence. [yalensis: «десяточка» или «пятнашка», I am actually not familiar with this idiom, so my translation is partly guesswork, based on the context].

“I had a friend who returned home in 2016, he had been fighting in the Separatist militia. He had just arrived home, his mother didn’t even have time to cook him a meal, in they came and took him away. He was arrested and sent away. But I have been dreaming for a long time about joining the [Wagner] Musicians.”

“Why? ” I want to ask him. “For the money? For the adventure?” But the young man preempts my question: “My call-sign is [and he uses a word that means Russian in his native language].“

“In that case, may I just call you Rus?”

“Rus” nods and recounts to me his story, the very first time he descended into this mine, along with his comrades from the Storm group. A lot of rumors had been floating around that some Ukrainian soldiers were still hiding out in the mines, so they were very cautious. “But the caution was unnecessary. The mines are not interconnected. This particular mine is simply a trap with no exit. The first time we came down, we were in our armored vests, and we carried with us grenade- and mortar-launchers. And we expected the whole place to be mined. It turned out there were some actual miners living here, they lived here right up until the New year. Then the Ukrainians ordered them to leave, and after the miners left, the Ukrainians blew up the cages and pulleys, and the rest of the equipment.”

It was like some kind of magical kingdom, down there….

I ask Rus, “How did you get back up with all your gear?”

Rus smiles into his beard: “It was long and hard.”

I tried not to think much about the fact that I too have to go back up eventually. After about 40 minutes we reached the bottom of the mine shaft. I flashed my flashlight around the salty arches. The walls gleamed like crystal.

Even Alla Pugachova In a Hardhat

For several hours we wandered around the mine. I had the persistent sensation that I was inside some enchanted castle. Everything around us shone and sparkled. And it was very warm, we were bathed in the warmth of the planet’s core itself. But the grunts of the rocket duels still taking place above us, kept returning me to reality. Even at this depth the artillery was quite audible.

We didn’t get a chance to see the actual mining workshop where the combines stood. According to Rus it was 3 kilometers just to get there, and the lads were waiting for us above. The shells were raining down on the actual mine. We needed to hurry.

Among other wonders: An underground cafe.

Rus had tried to start one of the diesel carts, but couldn’t get it going, the engine finally died. Therefore we were limited to seeing just the “tourist” view of the mines, and that took us about an hour. Everything was still there, nothing had been stolen or ruined. There was a stash of gasmasks for the tourists. Also hardhats, although there was no real point in that: the salt walls and ceilings are so firm that they don’t need to be reinforced, unlike in coal mines. In fact, one could view gigantic halls of salt receding into the darkness, with ceilings the height of a 9-storey home!

A small chapel

We glanced into one of the alcoves set aside as a chapel. I left a candle for our guys, for those who fight far up above us, on the surface of the Earth. [yalensis: I hope he didn’t light it and then just leave, could be a fire hazard.]

One of the halls is a stadium with football nets. Rus fooled around with a ball. Then we went into the bar. There was a tray with glasses, all the same type. In each glass was a teabag, all you have to do is add water. But nothing to heat the water. Rus advised me to abstain from drinking water: “Just try to hold on. It will make the trip up easier. We’ll drink our fill once we get to the top.”

I didn’t want to go back up! So much craft was on display in this crystal palace. If only there were not the constant “Bamm!” and “Boom!” from up above.

It turned out there were about a dozen cafes down here. In one of them, the owners had developed the “Ukrainian” theme. They had brought in a life-size plush horse and decorated it in a vyshivanka [traditional Ukrainian embroidered blouse].

A chamber decorated with posters of Alla Pugachova. Notice her “namaste” pose.

In the next room I startled when I suddenly came face to face with Alla Pugachova. Wearing a hardhat and devoutly lighting a candle in the chapel.

[yalensis: For background on Rus’s bitter reaction: Pugachova was one of the most famous, wealthiest, and celebrated singers of the Soviet and Putin eras, an actual superstar. She headlined the annual New Year show on state TV. She was coddled and lionized, won every possible award. Then, when the current war broke out, she took Ukraine’s side, denounced Russia, and emigrated to Israel. Now she is considered the Queen of the Liberal Fifth Columnists.]

Rus remarked bitterly: “What a way to nullify one’s entire life! She was a singer of two epochs, she would have gone into the history books. As soon as this mine is put back into work, I will personally come back into this room and tear down her portraits.”

Suddenly another explosion above us, and something came raining down upon us. For the first time in our journey, I heard Rus scream: “Get behind the post! Get away from the staircase!”

[to be continued]