Ancaster man sets off on desperate mission to rescue his friend's kid sister from Ukraine
As night falls over a frigid Medyka, Poland, Wyatt Raitt tries to find a corner to talk.
The small village in the country's southeast (near Ukraine's western border) has become a bustling hub in recent weeks for refugees fleeing a Russian-waged war that's claimed the lives of thousands. Raitt got there two days ago. He can't remember the last time he slept.
It's freezing," Raitt says, his voice staticky. I just charged my phone."
He moves into a sleeping quarter, one of dozens that now dot the town. It's cramped, he says, filled mainly with volunteers who've come to help displaced Ukrainians. Clothes, sleeping bags and yoga mats are strewn over white-tiled floors. There are lines of camping cots and metal bunkbeds without mattresses.
Calling is really patchy around here ... I might only have a few minutes. It's hard to understand people."
It is almost as difficult to grasp how Raitt got to where he is. A place so remote decent sleep or cell service is a luxury.
Just a week ago, the 22-year-old was living with his parents in Ancaster, working odd jobs as he mapped out an uncertain future. Today, he's at the heart of a humanitarian crisis.
Outside the sleeping quarter, Raitt says there are mounds of clothes and shoes and food as far as the eye can see. A kilometres-long row of cars stretches beyond the Polish border and into Ukraine. Tens of thousands cross into the country on foot each day, he says. Ordinary Ukrainians who want away from the barrage of bombs and bullets.
Constantly people coming through," Raitt adds. It's all women and children. The men aren't allowed to leave Ukraine. They have to fight."
Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces entering Medyka is an uber-attentive Raitt. He has to be. The young man is looking for a seven-year-old girl he's never met.
Her name is Arila. She's the sister of an old Ukrainian friend Raitt met while studying at Carleton University. That friend, Alex, moved back to his home country before COVID.
His father died and his mother hasn't been around since 2017, so he had to take care of his sister," Raitt says.
Raitt had barely heard from his buddy until around March 2 when he got a message over Discord, an instant messaging server. Alex, like all adult males in Ukraine, was forced to fight in the war. His sister was left alone. Help was needed.
He put out a message to a few of us (Carleton friends) saying, Hey, can any of you come out to pick up my sister?'" Raitt says. I sent him a message that I'd do it."
A plan was in motion hours later.
Raitt would leave Pearson International Airport on March 7 on a late-night flight to London, England. He'd then continue on to Frankfurt, Germany, and finally to Krakow, Poland. Once there, he'd take a few trains to Przemsyl before paying a local cabbie to reach Medyka at the border. And he'd pack light: only a backpack and small carry-on, bringing a few pairs of clothes and underwear.
If I had to carry a seven-year-old, I would not want to carry a suitcase," he recalls thinking. The plan was to get her into Poland and then I'd look after her until Alex was back."
For his father, it was all a little too hard to believe.
It was totally shocking," says Stephen Raitt, who helped connect The Spectator with his son on Friday. He's the kind of kid who gets lost on the subway.
He doesn't like public transit, and now he's trying to do it in a country on the border of a war zone where he can't even read the signs."
Raitt sheepishly agrees.
He recounts the time he sat on an Ottawa bus going the opposite direction of where he was supposed to be for an hour. He knew 15 minutes in he was on the wrong line.
But I was too embarrassed to get off, so I kind of just sat there and took it," says Raitt, chuckling. Eventually I got off and called a friend to pick me up way out in the boonies."
The next time Raitt used a bus? Last Tuesday in Krakow.
It's quite phenomenal," says Stephen of his son's newfound attitude.
Indeed, the kid who had never left North America is now three flights and two trains deep and halfway across the world, hoping to play a part in a longshot rescue operation.
But that operation is at a standstill.
Alex told Raitt that he and his sister were leaving Ukraine's besieged capital, on March 2. The same day he sent that last-ditch plea over Discord. It was agreed the trio would meet in Medyka - a near-600-kilometre journey from Kyiv - on March 10 or 11. Raitt would take Arila while Alex went back to fight.
Raitt got there on time. Alex still hasn't.
I lost contact with them. His phone could be broken, he might not be able to get a message for me," Raitt says, adding he's made signs with Alex and Arila's names and told troops at the border to keep an eye out for them. It's hard because I've never actually seen what she looks like. You get a little nervous."
There are, however, shades of optimism.
Raitt has experienced a humanitarian awakening in recent days, becoming one of thousands of selfless global volunteers in Medyka who've pledged to help Ukrainians. He's slept in barren tents and buildings nearly freezing to death," he says.
I had a heated tent the first night that I gave up to a Ukrainian mom and her kids. They needed it more than me."
Oddly, Raitt has become one of the camp's resident pizza makers - yes, pizzas - through a wood burning oven brought by Scottish volunteers. He says he's made hundreds of pies, plying a trade he picked up from an old gig at Hamilton's Rapscallion and Co. restaurant, to feed hungry refugees.
It's kind of funny. At Rapscallion I used to get flour all over myself and they made fun of me, and now I'm here in Medyka, caked in flour," he says. A lot of the skills I'm using here I learned there."
This is the plan for Raitt as he waits for a sign from Alex. On the other side of the border in Ukraine is a war zone he fears is too risky to enter and search. A GoFundMe his father organized to support his efforts has garnered over $3,000.
More money than what's in my bank account," Raitt says.
As a cold front sweeps over Medyka, Raitt is asked why he's doing this. There's his friend of course. But what about his decision to stay and help others?
It's tough to explain," he says, pausing.
He thinks to back a quote Alex used to recite at Carleton: Woe is he who runs from what he believes.
And I've been thinking about that, because I believe in this," Raitt says. So many people told me to not do this because it's dangerous. But why would I run from something that's harder for others than it is for myself? I really believe in helping these people."
His father Stephen had a more concise answer.
I think he's found a calling as a humanitarian."
Sebastian Bron is a reporter at The Spectator. sbron@thespec.com