Through the dust I see the brake lights of a van we follow, they come on.
It’s another checkpoint. It had been six or seven years since we were heading for the front line of Ukrainian forces, northeast of Kharkiv, the second largest city in Ukraine.
Suddenly I got up. The control was controlled by a group of children. Not young soldiers, I mean real kids, with what looked like weapons.
Startled, I looked closer as the dust settled.
The Kalashnikov in a child’s hand was a toy. His friend had a gun, a small black BB toy gun. I don’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry.
On one level, stopping and questioning young soldiers and foreign media is hilarious, on the other, it is absolutely tragic.
We went out to chat with them under the scorching sun, the sounds of artillery a few miles away constantly thundering around us.
We are less than seven kilometers from Russian tanks and artillery, but the boys tell us that they go out every day from 9 am to 9 pm to protect their village, or rather, what is left after the fighting that saw the Russians repulsed.
Image: Nazar is 10 years old
“A woman was raped at school”
They lived all this, Nazar, my leader told me. With great courage, he says he is no longer afraid.
He has become accustomed to fighting, bombing, murder, brutality.
“They raped a woman at school, there were a lot of kids and women hiding in the basement,” she told me.
“They were forced out and relocated, and at night they lit torches on people’s windows. And every day there were tanks and cars coming and going.”
Think about how impactful this appointment is. Nazar is 10 years old.
Nazar told us that passing cars stop and drivers are asked to say two Ukrainian words, words that are hard to say in Russian, to determine if they can pass.
The words are “Ukrazaliznitsa” and “Palianitsa”. One is a Ukrainian railway company, the other a type of Ukrainian bread.
Image: Young people run the control from 9 am to 9 pm
“We won’t be so lenient next time”
As we chatted, a car went down the hill to its checkpoint. With the confidence of a gunslinger, Nazar marked her and asked her question word and tried.
In fact, Ukrainian soldiers do exactly the same thing.
In a respectful and obedient manner, the driver repeats the two words, Nazar overtakes him.
‘It worked!’ I cried. “Of course,” Nazar replied.
I asked him if they had ever caught a Russian.
“Yes,” he said, mortally serious. “A driver failed the test, but we let him pass,” he added quickly.
“We won’t be so lenient next time.”
This war is crazy.
Image: Vadym and his team have been collecting and searching for bodies
Hunting of dead Russian soldiers
We met the boys as we joined in the search for dead Russian soldiers.
Vadym, a professional soldier in the Ukrainian army, is in charge of this troop of unconventional bodyguards.
With him are two volunteers, Maxim and Stas, as well as a couple of brothers famous in these parts for their ability to find bodies.
So far, Vadym’s team has recovered 80 Russian soldiers and 20 civilians. The brothers found 16 bodies on their own.
Only dead Russian soldiers are removed from the battlefield.
Image: Vadym is a professional soldier in the Ukrainian army
The dead civilians are being treated by the police because their place of death is a potential crime scene.
It’s a macabre job, but Vadym knows it’s important.
“It is obviously important for hygiene, but also, in this way we may be able to change them for Ukrainian men, dead or alive.”
He told us that gathering bodies are also gathering evidence that Russian soldiers have actually been on their territory and that the Ukrainian army fought.
“It’s not going anywhere”
The first place Vadym and his helpers are looking for is in the village of Sorokivka.
One of the residents, Olha, 53, called to tell her that there was a suspicious smell of the field on the other side of the road from her house: she was worried that corpses were buried there.
The brothers, Yurii and Volodia, take out the spades and start digging. But they find nothing, so let’s move on.
The troops depend on the local population to report strong odors or suspicious behavior by the Russians when occupying this territory.
We meet a farmer in Verhnia Rohanka, a nearby village who is convinced that he knows where Vadym and his team can find more bodies.
Svitlana Borisova takes us to the edge of her farm and points out a hill that the Russians used as a base.
Image: Civilian bodies are left where they are to be treated by the police
He says the excavators worked there constantly during the occupation. It may be, he says, a mass grave.
Vadym and his team are not convinced, but they tell him they will check anyway.
He turns to us and says that the road to the Russian position is undermined, and that it is a constant problem for them. We have to go around.
Once there, Vadym searches for the nearest area: no bodies.
All we can see are armored personnel carriers burned, and in the trenches, a Russian soldier issued a helmet with a large hole, a pair of boots and some used Russian food ration containers.
One of the men grabs an envelope of coffee. “It’s Russian, it’s shit,” he says.
Image: Svitlana said excavators were constantly working in the area during the occupation
Just before leaving Vadym he discovers another Russian position hidden in the woods.
Carefully follow the track next to the trees, keeping in mind the mines.
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And then he sees it, the body of a Russian soldier, and says there could be more.
I ask him if they will move him this afternoon.
“Today we will do nothing, we have located it, tomorrow we will pick it up, it is not going anywhere,” he replied frankly.
The war is far from over and I could easily get back here. The bombardment continues unabated.
Many significant dates have come and gone, but the only date that really matters here is the one that really ended the war.