Jonas Dagys, Lithuania

It was January 11, 1991 in Vilnius.

I was at school and, as far as I can remember, the lessons went as usual.

When it was over, I stepped out of the classroom into the hallway and saw my father standing by the window in his coat.

I was thirteen, we lived within walking distance of my school, and I knew my way very well.

Something unusual must have happened that I had to be escorted home by my father.

I soon found out that my father decided to take care of me because Soviet military units were moving through the city, seizing the Press House and other strategic objects, and using ammunition against civilians.

The highlight was the well-documented January 13 bloodshed at the Vilnius TV Tower and TV Centre.

Of course, these days are also linked to the events of 1940, when the three independent Baltic states were annexed by the Soviet Union.

It is hardly possible to find a family in Lithuania in whose history this regime has not left traumatic marks.

Given all these layers of collective memory, it goes without saying that the people of Lithuania are deeply concerned about the ghostly possibility of Russian military action in eastern Ukraine.

Despite this, the situation is not yet perceived as a direct threat of military intervention in our national territory.

Our relations with Russia remain strained, but it seems that these tensions are currently understood primarily as economic and diplomatic, rather than those stemming from imminent military action.

To use a diplomatic cliché, we're cautiously optimistic.

The state of international diplomacy and the presence of NATO allies in the country are very important and reassuring factors.

Perhaps two years of the Covid pandemic have also changed our tolerance level for fears.

Perhaps the focus is on the general expectation that life will return to normal after the pandemic.

Maybe it's because social interactions are still quite limited, small talk and other opportunities to share and spread personal concerns.

The situation is less tense than it was about half a decade ago, when the armed forces of the Russian Federation and Belarus planned the joint military exercise "Sapad-2017".

Because the maneuver was carried out in western Belarus and in the Kaliningrad exclave, it was rightly seen as a clear threat to Lithuania and Poland.

It was not uncommon in those days to casually get caught up in a discussion that involved not only geopolitics but also the need to keep your car's gas tank full at all times, just in case;

or the family's cash reserves should military intervention paralyze the banking system and debit cards become unusable.

The memory of the Soviet military presence is still very much alive among several generations of Lithuanians and in the Baltics in general.

An acquaintance who lives on the Estonian Baltic Sea coast observed that this year the private sailboats were not lifted out of the water well into the cold season.

Again just in case.