It was meant to be a day of celebration. Each year on February 24, Estonians flock to parades, hoist blue, white and black flags, and let off fireworks to mark Independence Day — the anniversary of the date the small Eastern European country declared its sovereignty after centuries of foreign rule.
Instead, this year, Estonians awoke to news their eastern neighbour Russia — a country more than 300 times its size — had waged war on Ukraine. While the commemorations went ahead, including a military parade through the capital city, the mood was far from jubilation.
The date will now forever mark two very different anniversaries.
Despite weeks of warnings, the world reacted with shock and condemnation to Russia's invasion of Ukraine, now about to enter its third week. For Estonia, and other former Soviet states on Russia's doorstep, it felt personal.
"Was it just a coincidence that Ukraine was invaded on the day of Estonia's independence? Or a sinister message for Estonia?" Vella Pihlak, an Estonian living in Sydney, asks. Like many others of her generation, she has spent her life outside of Estonia, fleeing to Australia in 1945 following the Soviet Union's recapture of Estonia from Nazi Germany.
In Estonia, residents say they are trying to remain calm as life continues on relatively as normal. But the fighting happening on their doorstep, and the parallels to the Soviet invasion of their own country, are impossible to ignore.
"It's our history," says Triin Kerge, a 35-year-old resident of Tallinn, Estonia's capital. "I've grown up being told by my parents that it's only a matter of time until Russia invades Estonia again."
Whether Russian President Vladimir Putin's military plans extend beyond Ukraine is a question yet to be answered, but that hasn't stopped experts speculating about his desire to rebuild the Soviet Union. If he succeeds in taking Ukraine, many see the tiny nations of Estonia and Latvia, which share a border with Russia, and Lithuania, which borders Belarus and the Russian enclave of Kaliningrad, as potential next targets.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy warned as much during a secure media briefing in Kyiv. "If we [Ukraine] is no more then, God forbid, Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia will be next," he told journalists as he called for the West to establish a no-fly zone over Ukraine.
Unlike Ukraine, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania — collectively known as the Baltics — are members of the European Union and NATO. Under Article 5 of the NATO treaty, an attack on one member is considered an attack on all, which means the military backing of the US and bigger Western European nations.
"Ukraine might be one thing, fighting NATO led by America is an entirely different matter," says Paul Dibb, an emeritus professor of strategic studies at the Australian National University and a former deputy secretary of defence.
During a tour of the Baltics this week, where thousands of American troops are now stationed, US Secretary of State Antony Blinken assured Estonian, Latvian, and Lithuanian leaders that NATO's mutual defence pact is "sacrosanct" and that the US, along with other countries in the alliance, would "defend every, every inch of NATO territory should it come under attack".
But for a population where most people have either lived through a 50-year Soviet occupation of their country, were forced to flee by boat or grew up hearing stories of parents and grandparents forcibly deported to remote camps in Siberia, these assurances offer little consolation.
"If you have a neighbouring country like that, that has occupied you for 50 years and before that as well, it's always in the back of your head that it could happen," Triin says.
"The situation in Ukraine has opened a collective wound that we have from the Soviet occupation."
'War here is too terrible to think about'
Estonia's capital, Tallinn, is located just 370 kilometres from St Petersburg, Russia's second-largest city — about 15 kilometres less than the drive from Sydney to Port Macquarie.
The Russian border runs along the entirety of Estonia's right flank. From the eastern Estonian city of Narva — where the vast majority of residents are ethnically Russian — the Russian town of Ivangorod is within eyeshot, separated only by a river.
All three Baltic countries were occupied first by the Russian Empire and then, after a brief stint of independence, by the Soviet Union during World War II, only reclaiming independence in 1991. They are the only ex-Soviet states now members of NATO — the world's most powerful military alliance, which is at the centre of Putin's justifications for invading Ukraine.
Like Ukraine, the Baltics have significant ethnic Russian populations relative to their size. In Estonia and Latvia especially, Russians make up about a quarter of the population.
"We know that the leaders of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania are worried, and you would be," Professor Dibbs says. "They're small countries, with small populations, very small defence forces, and at least two of them share a common border with Russia."
Baltic leaders reacted swiftly to the invasion: Lithuania declared a state of emergency within hours of Russian troops entering Ukraine and Russian television channels were quickly taken off the air. They have been among the loudest voices calling for greater sanctions against Russia.
But on the ground in Estonia, residents say life has so far continued almost as normal. Two days after the invasion, tens of thousands of people attended a protest in support of Ukraine in Tallinn's Freedom Square; above them towered a 23-metre tall glass monument dedicated to those who fought for Estonian independence.
Some claim the protest was the largest in Estonia's history. Addressing the crowd, which carried hundreds of blue and yellow flags, Estonian President Alar Karis declared: "The world we knew a week ago doesn't exist anymore."
Among the attendees was Ulvi Haagensen, an Australian-Estonian artist living in Tallinn. While she has considered the possibility of escalation and started following news of the invasion more closely, she says she's trying to "to live ordinary, everyday life as much as possible".
"I think that little squeak of fear is permanently there," she says. "It's always a reality that Russia is right there and we don't know what they're going to do."
But now the physical signs of a nearby war are starting to show up in her city. Ukrainian refugees have started to arrive, humanitarian aid drives are ramping up, and Russian products have been pulled from shelves sparking a salt shortage.
If Russia attacked beyond Ukraine, she says she would probably try to return to Australia. "My grandparents left [at the beginning of the Soviet occupation], so that's probably what I'd try to do," she says.
But there's another thing playing on her mind: Estonia has compulsory military service, even outside of wartime, and there's no guarantee her sons would be able to leave with her. "Most thoughts here are about helping Ukraine — Estonia is so tiny, the thought of war here is too terrible to imagine."
Triin says most people she knows have considered what they would do if Russia set its sights further westward, but "it's something you can't really predict". She and her partner, who is Polish, have filled their tank with gas and started to collect medicine and important documents in one place just in case. She says she's heard of people considering selling their properties and moving to Western Europe.
The Russian invasion has taken a heavy toll on her country, she says, "because it's not just the facts you read in the news or learn in history class, it's something that's been passed on through generations, it's more personal".
"Everyone is affected by the past in Estonia," she says. "Most people know people who were either deported [to Siberia], ran to the forest, or escaped. I don't think there's anyone in this region who's completely escaped it."
'Latvia is target number two'
In Latvia, Estonia's southern neighbour, people are similarly on edge. Jānis Ķīnasts, an urban planner in the northeastern town of Cēsis, less than 200 kilometres from the Russian border, says the "psychological pressure at the moment is beyond words".
"We feel connected to Ukraine," Jānis says. "As a post-Soviet country, we have friends there, we have business partners there."
Like Triin, he refers to a collective, living memory of Soviet occupation. He was born in 1990, at the end of the Soviet Union, making him the same age as independent Latvia. Family members from both his father's and mother's side were sent to Siberia during the occupation.
This collective memory, he says, is "our greatest strength and also our greatest weakness".
"This is nothing new for us," he says. "We've lived in the shadow of this regime for centuries, and not even in a shadow, but within this aggression. This rhetoric, this pure manifested evil, is nothing new to us.
"There is this narrative that we know how to cope with it — but at the moment, we can't."
But far from falling into despair, Jānis is resolute in his mission to support Ukraine and stand up to aggression. The solution, he hopes, is something between fleeing and fighting.
"We are a developed region, we are 30 years away from the Soviet Union, we are a member state of the European Union, and NATO, we have started businesses here, we have big plans, we have friends across the globe, and we are all willing to develop this country and this region," he says. "We can't stand aside."
From the Latvian capital of Riga, lawyer Dmitrijs Trofimovs is clear about what's at stake. "Ukrainians are fighting for all of us now," he explains with the help of a translator. "Because after Ukraine, the second target is Latvia."
Dmitrijs, himself ethnically Russian, believes this is because of the large number of Russian people living in Latvia, many of whom support Putin. In Riga, ethnic Russians make up more than 30 per cent of the population.
Putin has repeatedly sought to defend the invasion of Ukraine by claiming he is seeking to protect Russian-speaking communities. The Russian enclaves in eastern Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania could also be a "major supporting force" in the event of an invasion, says Leonid Petrov, an expert on Eurasian affairs at the Australian National University.
"I would not be surprised if Putin harbours plans, not only for Ukraine, but its immediate neighbours."
The other elephant in the room is Putin's recent nuclear threats. Dr Petrov says he is not convinced NATO, if called upon, would come to the aide of the Baltics against Russian forces if threatened with nuclear war.
"The difference between NATO states, and non-NATO states like Ukraine, is now being blurred," he says. "I believe that sooner or later there will be no other option than [for NATO] to get into direct, combat with Russian troops — whether nuclear weapons will be used is another question."
If it comes to that, Dmitrijs is ready. "We of course are prepared for fighting in Lativa, if Russia comes to our country, it is our first task," he says. Others are already on their way to the battlefield after Latvia passed laws last month permitting citizens to volunteer to fight in Ukraine.
The conversation ends when Dmitrijs begins to cry. "Pray for Ukraine, if you can help, please, stop him, I'm sorry," he says, as he hangs up the phone.
