Owen Pomana Photo: Supplied/Owen Pomana
A 501-deportee turned evangelist chaplain promised God he would never fire another gun - a promise that became near impossible to keep when he ended up on the front line in Ukraine.
After linking up with Christian organisation Great Commission Society (GCS), Owen Pomana, who has his own society called Humanitarian NZ, has been providing humanitarian aid to Ukraine for months now.
Pomana found himself spending much of his time less than a kilometre from enemy lines, embedded with a Ukrainian special forces unit in the country's southeast near the city of Kherson.
He is now back in New Zealand for a couple of months before heading back to the conflict in a pastoral care role.
He has not ruled out going back into the combat zone.
Case of mistaken identity
Pomana arrived not long after Russia invaded Ukraine, delivering food packages or medical supplies and getting people out of the war-torn country.
He said he worked with teams that helped evacuate 55,700 people from danger over six months.
"Rockets going over the top of the buses and ground shaking, at night-time you'd just see big clusters of smoke.
"It was pretty hairy."
But a case of mistaken identity meant he was taken to the front line unit, he said.
"I met some guys who thought I was the former minister of defence... and they thought, well, let's take [him] out on to the front line. So, I went out with the special forces team."
He had been travelling with former defence minister Ron Mark, who also got involved with GCS, providing humanitarian aid to people in Ukraine.
"We actually get to one site where there are burnt out tanks, and then all of a sudden, it must have been about half a kilometre away, a big 177 Howitzer dropped a big bomb.
"And they said, sir, we can't take you any further."
From there Mark and Pomana met with members of Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy's government - also attending was the commander who had first got them muddled up.
Pomana said he asked that commander if they needed a chaplain, and not long after that he was shuffled between vehicles out to an undisclosed location in the east Ukraine.
Life at the front
Pomana has eight years' experience on ships in the Navy but he said life on the front line was nothing like that.
"I felt really rejected to tell you the truth, because they said, 'what value do you add coming to this team?'
"I said, 'I'm the chaplain' and they said, 'what's a chaplain?' I said, 'I'm a man of God' and they just turned their nose up and walked off."
Eventually, the unit let him join the group on their missions, but not without a gun, he said.
He was no stranger to guns, drugs, and violence from his former life, before he was deported from Australia as a 501, he said.
"God made me a promise... he said I'd never fire one those things [guns] again
"For the five weeks that I was there [in Ukraine], we had been bombed, we'd been rocketed, we'd been chased by tanks, we'd been shot at."
But he said he managed to keep his promise - having had to hold a gun but not fire it.
During his stint with the unit, there was another pastor from Canada in the team, he said.
"We're sitting there playing our church music and these guys would come down, these are big guys, right, playing their hard hard music... They'd just stand there looking at us."
It became a something the unit would joke about, opting to get in the truck with the Christian music, he said.
"We'd be telling them 'The only reason why those bombs didn't take us out is because God is good and he wants you to go home and see your girlfriend, your wife and your kids."
"They would say 'if you've got the crazy Christians in your car, you're coming home.'"
Pomana said they all managed to find moments of humour, but it was not always easy.
"I couldn't tell them to please stop the car so I could pray for the dead man in the paddock."
He also struggled to remember the beautiful scenery or fields full of sunflowers.
"I don't have memories of those plantations... All I see is dead bodies and young soldiers that have names probably never going to go home."
Among the death, destruction and mental torment of endless sirens, he never questioned his faith, and he was not afraid to die, Pomana said.
"We got bombed every day. And so like, you just hope that it doesn't land in the hole that you're in.
"I've got really good at spontaneous diving into any corner and then thinking 'Heck, if this is it, I'm coming to be with you King Jesus."
'I feel like I abandoned the boys'
Despite all of his struggles, Pomana said he was not afraid to return to Ukraine.
He said he was going back to join a group who would look after the mental health of front line soldiers - offering guidance and support.
"You've got 16-year-old kids to 60-year-old men that have never fought with guns before all of a sudden have killed people.
"You're going to need people who are skilled in mental health, trauma, it's going to be a big work."
For that reason, he warned New Zealanders who want to go to the front line, not to do it.
"Every day is a day you might not be coming home... If you have a wife, or you have children stay home.
"Doesn't matter how well trained you are, the type of weapons that they are using, there is no way you can hide... The types of rockets and bombs that they're using, no one survives. No one."
Following Russian President Putin's mobilisation orders, Pomana said he felt sorry for those being conscripted because appeared to be too young, not professional soldiers.
"I'm just praying this senseless war will just end and there will be peace."
