At Berlin's main railway station, Germans offer their homes to refugees fleeing Ukraine

Live updates: follow the latest news on Russia-Ukraine The cardboard signs held up at Berlin’s main railway station speak volumes about the city’s generosity. One says, “Room for 1 mother and 1 — 2 children,” while another reads, “One room free — baby, kid.” More than six years after it experienced a surge in arrivals from Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq, Germany is once again opening its doors to people fleeing war. And as was the case before, the warm welcome comes as much from individual citizens as from the state. Dozens of residents in the German capital have lined up to offer beds to those who have left Ukraine in terror after the Russian military attacks began, while there are ample supplies of hot drinks, food, clothes, toys, mobile phone sim cards and pet provisions for the newly arrived. It offers a striking example of the kindness of strangers. Laura Lange, 32, a teacher who lives nearby, said she, her partner and their two-year-old daughter have a “comparatively large flat” and they were happy to offer a room to a family in need of shelter. “The majority of us live a good life,” she said. “We have a place to live. We have work. "We have enough money to buy food. In times like this we feel the need to share what we have, especially with people who suddenly have nothing.” For many, she said, Ukraine feels “very close” and no further away than, say, Italy, a popular holiday destination for Germans. “We have all the clothing, all the toys, all the supplies for a baby and a small child,” she said. “It’s a small room, but we have a mattress, we have shelves, people could stay for longer.” One volunteer helping to co-ordinate assistance estimates that thousands of people who fled Ukraine are arriving in Berlin each day on trains sent to Poland by the German national operator, Deutsche Bahn. Other refugees have followed more circuitous routes, taking whichever buses or trains were heading west in Ukraine as Russia aims at key eastern cities. That was the case for two Moroccan students who fled Kharkiv, the city in north-east Ukraine, which has faced heavy Russian shelling. Marouane Assila, 21, a medical student, took four days to reach Berlin, going through Hungary, while his friend Ilias Elhayani, 20, who was studying architecture before being forced to leave, travelled through Slovakia. “When I went to the train station, there were bombings,” said Mr Elhayani, who was two years into his studies in Ukraine. “There were no tickets. No timetables. We just had to wait for the trains. They said for security reasons they didn’t announce when the train was arriving. [It came] after six hours of waiting. “It was really, really busy — a train for 1,000 people had 2,000 people. We didn’t know if it would be safe and the destination was unknown.” Mr Assila’s journey lasted four days and was no less stressful. He had to sleep in train stations or in the corridors of the carriages while looking after his three-year-old ginger cat, Leo, who he gave water through a syringe. Both students face an uncertain future, as they may need to find scholarships if they are to continue their studies outside Ukraine. “All of our documents regarding our study are still there [at the university in Kharkiv], probably destroyed,” said Mr Elhayani. For now, they are staying with Jonas Herzer, 31, a big-hearted technology consultant who felt particularly moved to help out those escaping strife. “In my family there were also refugees — my grandmother came from Romania in the Second World War, also [fleeing] from the Russians. It’s time to give back,” said Mr Herzer, who has temporarily given up his own bedroom so that he can accommodate refugees. While still a subject of contention, Angela Merkel’s decision, in 2015, to make it easier for people to reach Germany and apply for asylum is seen as one of the most significant moments of her 16-year stint as chancellor, which ended late last year. It is the key reason why Syrians are now Germany’s third-largest minority, after Turks and Poles. At the time, local people were filmed clapping the new arrivals as they disembarked the trains that brought them to Germany, and there is now also much to welcome those who have arrived after fleeing Ukraine. A large concourse at Berlin Hauptbahnhof, the main station, has been taken over by first aid tents and stalls offering the refugees all the essentials they need for free. Part of the volunteer effort includes matching those in need of accommodation with people who offer rooms in their own home. It complements emergency accommodation being provided in Berlin by the authorities. Kristina Eberhartz, 73, and her husband, Wolfgang, 75, have just taken in former Kyiv resident Halyra Yaremchuk, 37, a university lecturer, her Congolese husband, Daniel Gerongo Zamara, 28, an IT student, and the couple’s children, Nattia, three, and Nicholas, four months. “It’s absolutely necessary in this moment,” Mrs Eberhartz said of the decision to offer a bed to the family. “What is going on — we have to help. We have the possibility — we don’t work any more and we have room enough and we can take them for a while.” While there is no doubting the generosity of those in Berlin offering a room, there have been concerns that reaching the city has sometimes been more difficult for those who are not Ukrainian. Ukraine is a major international education destination and, before the conflict erupted, was known for its highly diverse student population. There have been reports of border guards making it harder for non-white people to leave Ukraine, while an Afghan doctor who reached Berlin from Vinnytsia in west central Ukraine, where he had been studying, said he sometimes struggled to get onto trains and had been charged for journeys leading to Germany that had been offered free of cost to Ukrainians. “The conductors we not allowing us to enter. They only [allow] Ukrainians,” said the doctor, who asked for his name not to be used. Alex, a Berlin-based filmmaker originally from Russia who asked for his full name not to be used, is among the team of volunteers in Berlin helping the new arrivals. He has heard of similar incidents, although a “women and children first” policy may explain some cases. But in Berlin the welcome for everyone has been warm: Alex estimated that at least 200 local volunteers are running the services offered to those who have fled Ukraine. He is arranging onward transport for refugees heading further afield, with many aiming for Paris. “Part of the reason I’m here every day for five hours is because I feel bad,” he said. “There’s no just war.”

At Berlin's main railway station, Germans offer their homes to refugees fleeing Ukraine

From Ukrainian families to Arab students, Hauptbahnhof is flooded daily with people seeking safety