Saying Goodbye to Pete

Day 313 Saturday 3 February 2023

It’s almost midnight. I was supposed to be in Odessa today.

Four days ago I helped six guys from the British Veterans Army distribute 350 IFAKs (Individual First Aid Kits) and winter kits to frontline soldiers and got my friend Kostya to translate for their combat medic training. During one of the training sessions, I stood in the back of the classroom imagining these young men on the battlefield and I commented to one of the British veterans how young the soldiers were. 63 year old Myles said, “I was 17 when I fought in my first war.” OK then. After training, we were invited to join the soldiers in signing the Ukrainian flag with the battalion’s crest. Then another long solo drive back to Kyiv for me to begin packing for my next mission with Disaster Tech Lab doing logistics and support for the medical team.

Photo credit Hermes Pichon

I arrived at my apartment just after nightfall and saw that Roma was gone. You may remember Roma from my dispatch on “Peaceful Valley.” 23-year-old Roma had been coordinating multiple evacuation teams in Donbas – mostly Bakhmut - for the past 6 months. For the past month I had been hosting Roma in my apartment because he had nowhere else to go and he needed to get out of Donbas. He really needed to get out. Once I overheard him casually informing one of the groups still in Donbas that “you can bring any dead bodies you find to this place.” In another conversation he told me how some mornings he couldn’t eat before going on the mission because he was afraid he would shit himself. I tried to encourage Roma to stay in Kyiv and heal a little longer, but I suspected he would catch a ride with Rauri, the Irish medic who was returning for another tour. Like many of us, he found it difficult to “have fun” or reintegrate into normal life. “War. Life. It’s just so fucked up.”

I’ve been doing logistical support for a few teams operating in Donbas. One team, Global Outreach Doctors (GoDocs) was lead by Peter Reed from Alaska. I had heard a lot about Pete from some of the other teams in Kramatorsk and had it on my list to reach out to Pete. On my return trip from Kramatorsk to help Roma retrieve his gear, I stopped at my favorite hotel in Dnipro, The Old Bridge. In the parking lot of the Old Bridge was a bright yellow and green checkered ambulance, aptly named “Checkers”. (My spotless, smoke-free, and impeccably maintained white van is named Princess.) I walked into the lobby, spotted the American volunteer who likely was part of Checkers’ team and introduced myself. It’s always my job to meet other volunteers. This was Allon, an American ER doctor from Kauai. Behind Allon was Pete. After a brief introduction, I realized that this was THE Pete from GoDocs that I would be working with.

Allon (HI), Pete (AK), Courtney (UT), Max (UA), and I visited for a bit in the hotel restaurant and Pete talked about his strategy for GoDocs and how I could help. Pete was juggling phone calls, text messages, and side conversations with Courtney and Allon all while not missing a beat with our rather fast-paced conversation. He was sharp, concise, and organized; all without being the least bit bossy or rude. He was efficient and completely sweet. He had the uncanny ability to accomplish and say a great deal without appearing to rush. This was leadership material. I instantly loved this man and wanted to work with him. It was clear to me that he would be coordinating the evac teams in Bakhmut. The next morning, we said goodbye and GoDocs  were GoneDocs - loaded up in Checkers and left for Donbas. That was the day of the missile strike on the apartment building in Dnipro and my last dispatch.

After our meeting in Dnipro, I was busy sourcing and delivering StarLinks, medical equipment, and supplies for the teams. Pete and I were in daily communication. As one volunteer said, “Pete was often on two computers and his phone, with a cat in his lap and having a conversation with you while always looking you in the eye.” And this was after a full day of planning and executing evacuations. I looked back at my messages with Pete and they are all after 10PM.

Pete: That sounds good to me! Any update on the StarLinks by chance? (10:45 PM)

Me: They will be sent by overnight courier to Przemsyl Monday. Waiting for a volunteer to bring across the border and NP to you. (10:49 PM)

Pete: That sounds like a good plan, thank you! I like having people around me who are super capable, so please stay around !!!! (10:50 PM)

Even when he was tired and literally saving people’s lives under enemy fire all day long, Pete sent text messages with happy exclamation points and sincere encouragement. He always took time to show you he really cared. And on Wednesday, February 1, at 9:51 PM he sent me this 11 second voice message:

Can you send me his number. Sorry, I’m driving right now and I want to send him a voice message. (pause) Um, how are you doing?

…and that “Um, how are you doing?” was in the kindest, most sincere tone, not that “How are you?” that everyone asks, but nobody really cares what your response is. At 10:01 PM I replied back, rambling on about everything I was working on and how busy I was. Pete’s reply to me at 10:07 PM in his calm, upbeat, and concerned voice:

That sounds like you have A LOT going on. I think you should take a couple days and, you know, like just do whatever Sharon needs. I would go find a spa if I were you.  Spend 2 hours in a hot tub or sauna…”

He added some comments about the B.E.N. (Bakhmut Evacuation Network) that he organized and talked about the work that was needed now.  He asked when I would be done with Disaster Tech Lab and might be able to join the team. At 12:03 AM on Thursday, February 2, I sent him this message:

“You’re funny. A spa or a hot tub? [follow up on StarLinks and other equipment]...I would love to work with you. You’re doing the work that needs to get done and I really respect and admire you for that and I’d love to be a part of it…I’m going to get back to work and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Except we didn’t talk tomorrow.  At 3:23 PM one of the members in the B.E.N. group chat wrote:

FUK me guys, please update with todays unfortunate events!!

Pete went into Bakhmut with 2 teams and 2 vans. The vehicles were hit with incoming artillery. Roma was also in one of the vans. For the next hours reports would vary and change. I thought all the guys were taken to one hospital. Later I would hear some were at one hospital and others were being transported to another. I saw reports of some of the guys in surgery, out of surgery, doing OK. Pete was being transported to a hospital. I sent a friend to that hospital to help translate for a volunteer who was there. Hours went by. Four, eight, ten, twelve hours and still Pete did not arrive at the hospital. The other team members were all confirmed OK and in hospitals. By the next morning, Friday, they were asking what Pete was wearing and then a search and rescue mission was authorized. Nobody had eyes on Pete. Still other groups continued to evacuate from the region, but everyone was urged not to go into Bakhmut.

Finally, at 2:31 PM on Friday we were told that Pete was confirmed killed in a missile attack. I still don’t have all the facts. Pete’s wife wrote on Instagram that her husband “not only lived for his duty but apparently died saving another team member’s life.”  He used his own body to save someone else’s. This is something you may think you would do in your hero dream - taking a bullet for someone else, throwing your body over a child’s to protect her from an explosion - but only real heroes are capable of making this split second decision in a crisis.

Photo credit Hermes Pichon

Photo credit Hermes Pichon

Allon was back in Kyiv so we got together and raised a glass in Pete’s memory. It was nice to have company going through this. Pete is the first person I know who died here in Ukraine. Today there was a group video call for the team to talk about Pete. Roma and the 2 other team members who were injured in the attack made it on the call. The consensus was that the teams would continue their work because Pete would want it that way. It would be a dishonor to him to stop because of his death.

The last day I saw Pete was the day I wrote my post about the missile strike on the apartment building in Dnipro, “ Terrorism” , I wrote:

“Life goes on. But it may not. I often feel when I say goodbye to my friends here, I may never see them again. Certainly, it happens.”

Today I had another goodbye and hopefully this one has a happy ending. My best friend here in Ukraine, Oksana, and her family are preparing to go to Canada. I had to leave for Odesa and she will be gone when I return. We held each other in the parking lot of her apartment. The bitter wind biting and our tears running down our cheeks pressed together. I held on tight to this angel and wish her and her family happy new lives away from this war, terror, death, and loss. I hope to see her again in Vancouver.

This dispatch is dedicated to Pete Reed, a true hero and example of a life lived in service to others. Your memory lives on. GoPete!!!!

Read CNN’s article here https://www.cnn.com/2023/02/04/europe/ukraine-bakhmut-pete-reed-american-aid-worker-killed-intl-hnk/index.html

Read Washington Post article here https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2023/02/03/american-pete-reed-killed-ukraine/