On the way to the camp, we pass cemetery after cemetery, filled with fresh graves, yellow and blue flags rippling in the wind, as the road winds through the Carpathian mountains. The exact location is secret, but the area is achingly beautiful. The gentle slopes are smothered with brilliant green forests of spruce and fir. Russian bombs rarely fall here - giving both the children and the camp staff a much-needed break from the conflict.

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Vanui Martirosyan, the lead psychologist here, tells me many of the children have multiple traumas, with more than one close family member killed or missing. Some have experienced living under the brutality of Russian occupation, or having their homes bombed. “Some of them are afraid to cry,” Vanui sighs, “because they think that if they start crying, it will continue forever.”