Kherson civilians forced to crawl into sewage tunnels as Russian drones turn apartment blocks into ‘vertical furnaces’
Civilians in the Ukrainian city of Kherson have told LBC they were forced to crawl into sewage tunnels to escape choking smoke after Russian drone strikes turned residential tower blocks into “vertical furnaces”.
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Residents and first responders in the southern Ukrainian city described a terrifying pattern of attacks in which drones hit apartment blocks, start fast-moving fires, then continue circling overhead as rescue crews try to reach those trapped inside.
One woman, Fedora, said she and others hid in a basement for 12 hours after a strike on the Dnipro district earlier this month, before the smoke became so thick they had to crawl deeper underground.
“We started suffocating from the smoke,” she exclusively told LBC.
“We had to crawl even further down into the crawlspaces where the sewage pipes are because there was a little bit of a breeze there.
“We sat there from 8:30 in the evening until 9:30 the next morning. Cold, hungry. When we finally came out, they were still shelling. Our building was just burning. I couldn’t believe my home was gone.”
The latest accounts from Kherson paint a grim picture of a city being slowly burned and emptied by a relentless campaign of drones, artillery and repeat strikes.
Local emergency officials said one major fire in the Dnipro district, following a night strike on June 2-3, burned for almost 24 hours and destroyed 36 apartments.
Read more: 24 hours in Kherson: Inside the Ukrainian city where Russian drones hunt civilians from the sky
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Mykola Butsyla, a spokesman for the Ukrainian emergency service in Kherson, said crews arrived to find “total chaos” after a drone hit the ninth floor of a high-rise block.
“The fire was just racing down through the balconies,” he said.
“The stairwells were pitch black, completely filled with this toxic smoke. People were trying to throw water on it themselves, but if you went up to the eighth or ninth floor, you got trapped because the fire cut you off on the sixth floor below.
“In some spots, it was just a massive wall of fire from the second floor all the way up to the ninth. We were finding people choking to death down in the basements where they’d run to hide.”
The comments from local officials were gathered from open-source reporting by Suspilne Kherson, while civilian testimony was collected from people in the city over recent days. Some surnames are being withheld because residents fear Russian retaliation.
Mr Butsyla said emergency crews were still being threatened by drones as they tried to put the fires out.
“Dealing with the aftermath of these strikes is always a nightmare because of the repeat drone activity,” he said.
“Our guys are working under constant threat. During this specific attack — the fire burned for almost 24 hours — the drones were just circling overhead the whole time.
“It’s a tactic. They do a double tap: hit it once to start the blaze, then keep drones up there to target the rescue crews or anyone coming to help.”
Pavlo Drohal, a spokesman for Ukraine’s 30th Marine Corps, said Kherson and the surrounding area were now being hit by almost 2,000 Russian drones a week, including quadcopters, FPV drones, kamikaze drones and strike variants.
He said that in the first five days of June alone there were 19 fires caused by drones, with more than half of them in multi-storey residential buildings.
“It’s not random,” he said.
“Every district is getting hit. It’s systematic.
“From a purely military perspective, these strikes on apartments make zero sense. There is no military value. This is psychological warfare. They want to create pure terror inside people’s homes so they pack up and leave, so the city stops functioning completely.
“People outside Kherson think this is a normal battlefield. It’s not. It’s a campaign to erase everyday life.”
For those still living in Kherson, the distinction between front line and home has all but disappeared.
Olha, from the central district, said she had just gone to bed when a huge explosion hit on June 4.
“I ran out to the balcony and saw my neighbour’s place was fully on fire,” she told LBC.
“I had their keys, so I ran over and opened the door to try and help put it out. Some guys from downstairs ran up too. But within five minutes, the smoke was so thick and toxic you couldn’t see or breathe.
“Someone yelled: ‘We have to get out.’ We were literally choking.”
Maria, from the Dnipro district, said she had survived previous strikes but described the latest attack as the moment her life in the city became impossible.
“This wasn’t my first strike, I’ve been through it before,” she said.
“But this one... this was the end. There’s nothing left. The doors blew out, windows gone. The whole stairwell is just black charcoal. People’s furniture, carpets — all caught fire instantly. It smouldered for two whole days.
“It’s just terror. They are trying to burn us out.”
Another resident, Volodymyr, said he escaped with only his passport and work laptop.
“Everything else we owned is gone,” he said.
“My entire life. I don’t have a single photo or memory left from my childhood or teenage years. Nothing. Thirty-five other apartments burned down with mine.
“The fire took over the top floors in minutes. Some stairwells are just completely gutted from the second to the ninth floor. They’ll probably have to tear down the top four floors, or maybe the whole building before this war even ends.”
Residents said the attacks were not limited to apartment blocks.
Valentina, whose husband and daughter were injured in the Dnipro district strike, said ordinary workers were being targeted as they tried to keep the city alive.
“My husband was hurt in the attack — volunteers had to carry him out,” she said.
“He’s still with the doctors. My daughter is in the hospital too because she inhaled so much smoke, carbon monoxide poisoning.
“How can anyone feel safe? A few days ago, a 67-year-old utility worker stepped on a mine left on a roof right in the centre of town. An energy worker was killed by a drone just doing street repairs.
“You go to sleep and you don’t know if your building will be a vertical furnace by midnight.”
Mariya, from the Dnipro district, said she has now decided to leave Kherson and join her granddaughter in Mykolaiv.
“I have to,” she said.
“My granddaughter told me: ‘Grandma, just come here, we’ll figure it out.’ So I have a place to go.
“But most people at the transit centres are staying. They’re just waiting for shelter space here in the city. Leaving feels like giving the Russians what they want. But staying is getting impossible.”
At a food distribution line run by Hope For Ukraine, one mother said her son and his family had finally left after a Molniya drone destroyed part of the house he spent five years building.
“My son and his family finally left,” she said.
“He spent five years building his house right here. Then, in the third year of the war, a Molniya drone hit it. Half the house is just gone. My boy said: ‘I’m never going back there.’
“Every single day it’s explosions, sirens. It just presses on your chest, it hurts so bad. I don’t know how we are supposed to survive this. Every day, the drones are just buzzing overhead.
“My soul just aches — every part of it.
“I’m grateful to the good people helping us with food. I have to believe — I really do — that my child and his family will come back to their home one day.”
Yuriy Boyechko, CEO of Hope For Ukraine, told LBC the strikes were designed to make the city unliveable.
“There is no tactical reason to burn an apartment block or drop a bomb on a kids’ playground,” he said.
“They just want everyone to leave so the city dies. It’s scorched earth. They aren’t fighting soldiers here — they’re fighting regular families.
“When a drone operator sits across the river, looking through a camera at a ninth-floor balcony with laundry hanging out to dry, they know exactly what they’re targeting. They see the civilian life there, and they press the button anyway.
“The goal isn’t to hold territory anymore; it’s to exhaust people at a soulful level. They use double-tap strikes to trap families and hit the rescue crews coming to pull them out.
“They want the teachers, the doctors, the utility workers, and the families to leave so Kherson becomes a grey zone — a ghost town.”
But Mr Boyechko said the city had not stopped resisting.
“What they don’t understand is the stubbornness of ordinary people,” he said.
“A stone craftsman cancels his flight to safety to stay and help. A grieving pastor keeps driving supplies right to the edges of the flames.
“They think they can force the city to stop functioning, but as long as neighbours are showing up for neighbours, the city is still fighting back.”