She’s a doctor. Isn’t that lovely?
See her get her shots in from about 1:00 – 1:45
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgtaZoUnbmY
Eye witness account of the attacks by Sergei Mel’nik:
At that moment people on the stage began squabbling. One guy, probably a leader of the self–defense group (pro-Maidan) said we should go home because the situation had become dangerous. Others insisted we should stay. Most decided to stay; it seemed the right thing to do. Why would we be afraid to stay at a peaceful concert?
Probably most of the pro-Maidan people moved forward (thank God!); several dozens of us stayed behind, cut off by rows of militiamen and anti-Maidanists. At this point the situation worsened; we were surrounded by a huge crowd of aggressive anti-Maidanists and could not make a move.
There were militiamen but not enough to protect us. We could not go anywhere; we had anti-Maidanists on every side, and they would not let us go. The crowd surrounding us was shouting: “We will kill you, m-f-ers.” (I will not quote the other insults here.) They threw themselves on the militiamen, hoping to break through the cordon. At several points they succeeded and began beating us. We could not struggle against such a crowd; all we could do was protect our heads, try not to fall down, and, most important, prevent them from taking me or my comrades into their crowd (from which no one would have escaped alive). Anti-Maidanists dragged me by my hair; during those seconds I said to myself, “you should have cut your hair, idiot.” They kicked heads with their feet. Sometimes I managed to stay standing; sometimes they knocked me down to the road. I protected my head with my hands, fending off the blows somewhat.
At moments the militia cordon stood steady, without gaps in the cordon. But then the anti-Maidanist began spitting on us and throwing stones, some of which reached us. (Fortunately, in this area of Kharkiv, they could not find many stones.) They also threw explosives and petards in our direction. All this was accompanied by their screaming, “Russia, Russia!” Now we could understand the real meaning of a “Russian-style Kharkov.” I wish people in Russia could understand this too.
In the meantime militiamen tried hard to contain the crowd and slowly move us to their van [avtozak-transportation van for prisoners]. Unfortunately, they had not nearly enough personnel. . . .
Militiamen opened the door of the van and demanded we get out. Those who left the van were ordered to kneel and move ahead on their knees. We all asked ourselves whether or not to follow the order. If you think it is an easy choice, it’s not. The crowd wanted our blood or at least to see us humiliated. As a result, everybody, myself included, moved ahead on our knees or squatting; only one guy tried to walk. My thoughts were as follows: I am standing on the railroad tracks with an unguided train approaching me at high speed. It would be viewed as shameful to jump away, but I would do so. I felt in a similar situation. You could stand, but this crazy crowd would break through the thin layer of militiamen and crush us all. Thus, moving ahead on my knees, I did not feel ashamed; I was simply annoyed by this “unguided train” in our city. The guy who tried to walk probably increased the aggressiveness of the crowd by a third. But that was the choice he made.
We had been moving in that physically grueling mode for about thirty minutes. One of us had a concussion; he received his share of kicks, as did we all. Again, there were not enough militiamen, though they contained the elements the best they could. They also yelled “kneel, idiot!” probably following my course of thought. The best decision would have been to arrest the mob, because they clearly were the instigators. But in such small numbers they COULD NOT.
At that point I was not paying much attention to anti-Maidanist words. But when somebody yelled at me “Go to your L’vov, Zhidomason [kike and mason]!” I felt I had to answer that I was from Kharkov.
