During the end of World War 1, 75,000 Russian, German, and Austro-Hungarian slain soldiers were exchanged at the small border town of Haparanda, Sweden. In the middle of this little-known part of European history stood Mia Green — one of the world’s first female war photographers — constantly ready with her finger on the shutter button.

It was an army of legless people that stood before the photographer Mia Green. They came in hundreds, even thousands. Row upon row of men; soldiers with bushy moustaches and military coats, on crutches and stretchers. The blinded got escorted through the darkness. They were survivors, risen from the trenches of the First World War. The year is 1915 and millions of human lives have already been sacrificed in the meat grinder of war — and millions more will die before it is over. These men were what remained, they had escaped death — but they had all lost something: an arm, a leg, an eye. In the confused, sometimes dark eyes one can make out the greater loss — the mental one. The absence of the people they used to be.

The men that passed in front of Mia Green’s lens rarely look at the camera — and when they do, they seem to be somewhere else. Green’s photographs look like war pictures from the front somewhere on the continent, but they are in fact in Haparanda. Between 1915 and 1918, 75 000 Russian, German, and Austro-Hungarian war patients were exchanged at the tiny border town. A still relatively unknown part of Swedish and European history. Mia Green was by accident and momentarily in the middle of it all — and her camera caught it.

Green’s photographs look like war pictures from the front somewhere on the continent, but they are in fact in Haparanda.

Mia Green (1875–1949) had a difficult and poor childhood as the daughter of a maid and an unknown father. The mother along with Mia Green’s eight half siblings emigrated to the USA. She herself mostly grew up with her grandparents, who were farmers outside Skellefteå in northern Sweden. She rarely spoke about her childhood, but in her strong social commitment it’s possible to sense how it affected her. She herself suffered from a mental mutilation. It’s probably here she found her strengths. Like her mother she started out as a maid, but had bigger dreams. In 1890 she saved up money and headed alone to the Swedish capital of Stockholm.

Eventually she finds photography, one of few professions that during the late 19th century was available for both men and women. When she acquired an education and a little starting moment, she travelled to Haparanda — a town where there wasn’t any established photographer. She saw an opportunity. The start was modest — she rented a small outbuilding as a studio. But she had found her calling, the photography profession was à la mode and Mia Green was both enterprising and artistic. She was described as impulsive and resolute.

She continued to work hard, even after getting married and taking care of four children. She was modern and creative, a woman of her time who got involved politically and fought for women’s suffrage. She hired only women as assistants and got herself Haparanda’s first bicycle to be able to go out on missions. She photographed everything she saw; the city, family portraits, interior of wealthy bourgeois homes, the sawmills, and their workers. She was especially passionate about the city’s poor and those seeking help. She put forward motions, and collected money for Haparandas first real retirement home.

When Haparanda suddenly became the scene of world politics in 1915, it was not surprising that Maria Green was there with her camera. She understood that it was something tremendous she was witnessing. The border between Haparanda and Karungi had turned into the world’s needle’s eye. In 1915, the Russian Empire still existed and on the other side of the Torne River was the Russian Grand Duchy of Finland. When the war fronts in the south closed the borders, the neutral Haparanda had turned into a gateway into Russia and Asia. Not only prisoners of war passed though, diplomats, spies, politicians, smugglers, soldiers, revolutionaries, and notorious war profiteers were also attracted here. Some of those who passed Haparanda eventually changed the course of world history. On April 15 1917, Vladimir Lenin came to Haparanda and crossed the frozen river on a horse-drawn sleigh.

One can only imagine the suffering caused by the long journey from the front. Which forced them here, to a river at the end of the world.

The famous revolutionary escaped Mia Green’s lens, but she captured a lot of the dramatic events that took place during these years. She sold her photographs to newspapers all over the country. But above all, the slain war prisoners and soldiers attracted most of her pity and attention. One can only imagine the suffering caused by the long journey from the front. Which forced them here, to a river at the end of the world. Far from all survived the journey. Maybe they already knew it, but life for these men was not going to be easy. In the Russian revolution they were forgotten — they had sacrificed themselves in an unjust war. In the Weimar Republic, the mutilated, homeless, and begging war invalids got scattered across its cities, immortalised by artists such as Otto Dix and George Grosz.

When the Torne River was running, the invalids were towed over by barges. Mia Green was there, her gaze always alert and documenting. But she could not remain a neutral observer. Some of her commitment and compassion goes through the photographs. Behind the camera she helped as much as she could. She was one of the initiators to the monument raised 1919 in memory of the 219 soldiers who died during the transports. For many years she took care of the monument by herself — she laid wreaths and watered the flowers. At her own request, she was buried nearby.