It was just after 1 p.m. when the first of three artillery shells shrieked past Maryna Korifadze’s bomb shelter in Kherson, landing nearby with a bone-rattling crump.
Her regular group of neighbors, some with children in tow, shuffled down the basement stairs and into the bunker. They passed around chocolate, coffee and tea. The younger crowd played table tennis in the next room.
"Sometimes it’s between 20 and 30 people a night here,” Korifadze said.