Last night, Ukraine didn’t sleep. As the clock pushed past midnight on June 28, 2025, Russian missiles and drones tore through the sky, hitting cities and towns from Sumy to Odesa, Kharkiv to Lviv. I’ve been talking to folks who lived through it—ordinary people who’ve learned to dread the wail of air raid sirens but still jump when they sound. This wasn’t just another attack; it was one of the biggest Russia’s thrown at Ukraine yet, a night of fire and fear that left families shaken and a nation wondering how much more it can take.

The Night Everything Shook

I got a message from Olena, a nurse in Kharkiv, around dawn.We listened to the blasts at 10:25, she said, her voice unstable over the phone.“Borovaya got hit. I thought the windows would shatter.” That was just one moment in a night of chaos. Sumi’s Miropol was killed around the same time. By 11:29, Dnepropetrovsk felt the ground rumble. The Ukrainian Air Force says Russia sent 477 drones and 60 missiles -Cruise, Ballistic, even Kinjhal missiles that shoot faster than the sound. They hit everywhere: Zaporizhzhia, Poltava, Rivne, Ivano-Frankivsk. It was like Russia wanted to remind every Ukrainian, no matter where they were, that nowhere’s safe.

Olena told me the air defenses were working overtime, knocking out all 60 missiles and 233 drones. Another 55 drones just “vanished,” probably scrambled by electronic jammers. But even with those numbers, the damage was real. I saw the post on X, stating that only three people were hurt by Chercasi, but others mentioned the debris in the poultwa, tore on the streets in Odessa. The Bristol Hotel there, already a ghost of its former self, took another hit. For people like Olena, it’s not just about the buildings—it’s the life they’re trying to hold onto.

What Russia Wanted

Russia’s military says they were going after Ukraine’s war machine: command posts, ammo depots, a drone factory in Chuhuiv, an airfield in Starokostiantyniv. They used new tricks, like rocket-assisted bombs in Dnipro, to make sure the hits hurt. They want to break Ukraine’s ability to fight back, especially its drones, which have been stinging Russian forces hard. But when I talked to Andriy, a teacher in Lviv, he wasn’t buying it. “They hit our neighborhood,” he said. “What’s military about my apartment block?” President Zelenskyy called it a “political choice,” a way to terrorize people, not just soldiers. Andriy’s voice cracked when he said his daughter, 8, hasn’t slept through the night in weeks.

This isn’t strategy. It’s cruelty. It’s Russia saying, “We can reach you anywhere.” And it’s working—every explosion makes you question if tomorrow will be worse.

A War That’s Breaking Hearts

This war’s been a slow bleed for years, but 2025’s been brutal. Russia’s pushed into Kharkiv since last May, sneaking across Sumy’s border, grabbing bits of land—5,000 square kilometers in Donetsk and Luhansk since January 2024. It’s cost them, though. People are saying Russia’s casualties could hit a million soon. They talk about “buffer zones” to protect their cities, but then you hear guys like Medvedev hinting at taking Odesa, Dnipro, maybe even Kyiv next year. It looks like a nightmare that keeps growing.

Ukraine’s fighting back hard. They’ve hit Russian bases like Engels, costing billions. But every attack on their soil hits like a punch to the gut. Last year’s delays in U.S. aid let Russia creep forward, and now Ukraine’s scrambling. Sweden sent $1.23 billion, but when I asked Olena if it’s enough, she just sighed. “We need more than money,” she said. “We need peace.”

The People Caught in the Middle

This is about people, not just headlines. I think of Mykola, a grandfather in Sumy, who told me he checks his roof after every strike, praying it’s still there. Or Anna in Poltava, who lost her neighbor in a June attack that killed dozens. Russia’s targeting power lines, and with winter coming, that means cold, dark nights for kids, grandparents, everyone. I keep picturing a boy in Odesa, maybe 10, asking why the lights keep going out. His parents don’t have answers.

The fear’s constant. Olena says she flinches at loud noises now. Andriy’s daughter draws pictures of planes dropping bombs. This war is stealing his childhood, his sleep, his hope.

The World’s Half-Closed Eyes

The world’s watching, but it’s not enough. The NATO summit in The Hague just ended, with big talk but no real plan to stop this. Zelenskyy tried to get Trump’s ear at the G7, but Trump walked out early. Russia’s spinning its own story, saying Ukraine’s attacks on their soil justify this hell. Some even mutter about nuclear options, trying to scare the West into backing off. It’s a game to them, but for Ukraine, it’s life and death.

What Comes Next

Ukraine’s tough. Their defenses held last night, but every attack takes a toll. The people in Kharkiv, Sumy, Dnipro—they’re exhausted but not broken. I think of Olena, still heading to the hospital today, bandaging wounds despite her own fear. This war’s been going too long, and last night was a reminder: Russia’s not stopping.

I keep thinking of that boy in Odesa, his parents holding him tight as the sirens blared. They’re why this matters. They’re why Ukraine keeps fighting. And they’re why the world can’t look away.