He stood with the last of Mariupol’s defenders – many of them seriously injured – bunkered at the Azovstal Iron and Steel Works – which the Russians had sieged relentlessly for over 80 days. Finally, on May 20, 2022, under orders, the Ukrainian fighter laid down his weapon and surrendered “to preserve the lives and health of the garrison’s soldiers.” Then, he was taken prisoner by the Russians, where, he tells Kyiv Post, he was subjected to a nightmare.
The soldier, who will be called “Petro” for the article – as his real name and call sign cannot be disclosed for security reasons – was initially held for three or four days at the “transit point” of Olenivka, a camp that the Russians set up for prisoners of war (POWs) in the occupied Donetsk region.
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“In Olenivka, no one cared. There was an order to everyone who guarded the camp not to touch anyone. That’s why, while I was there, everything was alright,” Petro said, adding that it was very crowded.
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But from Olenivka, Petro was sent for, what he jokingly calls “vacation” at the Taganrog “resort” in Russia – about 110 kilometers (70 miles) from Mariupol. There he survived four months of hell.
“Someone is constantly being beaten somewhere. And you hear it all the time,” Petro said. “They beat me with beams, truncheons, with feet, with fists and anything else they could get their hands on. From time to time, they also used a stun gun.”
“Over time, you get used to it, you know that every day you will be beaten in the morning and then in the evening. It's like a daily schedule. You get up in the morning and realize that in an hour and a half, you'll get a ‘massage,’ and you live like that,” Petro said.
During daily interrogations, the Russians were interested in absolutely everything, Petro said. They asked questions like: Who was the commander? Why hadn’t the Ukrainians surrendered earlier? What were their positions?
Some of the questions were clearly influenced by Russian propaganda, like: Which of them had killed civilians?
After morning interrogations and torture, it was time to have lunch – if the Russian soldiers guarding the POWs felt like providing it.
Although calling what Petro received “food” was a bit of a stretch. The most regular dish, he said, was a sort of sauerkraut.
“If you take vinegar, you’d prefer to drink it, compared to that food,” Petro said, adding that he looked forward to receiving rotten bread to make it palatable.
As for drinks: “Sometimes there was water. Sometimes there was no water.”
Petro said that his wardens were Detention Center employees, all males, aged 20 to 60. Professional soldiers also came around every month.
He shared a cell with another man, although there was a period of a few weeks where he was alone there – apart from the regular squeals, screams, and crying he heard outside.
But even when not alone, the prisoners generally avoided talking to each other. Anything they said could be used against them – could lead to new interrogations, new beatings.
As one might expect, there were no books, magazines, or entertainment. But from time to time, you could hear the Russians listening to the radio.
Generally, the POWs had no idea what was happening in the outside world.
“They said that there were zlotys (Polish currency) in Western Ukraine – that the Poles had entered Ukraine. Once a month we heard this kind of news. More often you could hear them talking to each other. It was usually some sort of fake news,” Petro said.
Meanwhile, prisoners were daily forced to learn and explain the meaning of the Russian coat of arms, its flag and other symbols.
“They forced us to listen to and learn Russian songs, including the USSR anthem,” Petro said.
Petro said that one of the hardest parts of his captivity was when “you realize that you could be there for a long time.”
There was also the fear that he could be sent to Siberia, like some of his fellow soldiers.
“You sit there, and you don't know what’s going to happen next. This is the worst thing.”
Petro didn’t know he was going to be part of a prisoner swap until just before he crossed the Ukrainian border.
“We woke up on what seemed like a normal day,” Petro said, “and after an hour of f*****g beating – they booted us out of our cells.”
Twice that day, they were taken outside as if to go somewhere and then returned.
At around 10 p.m., once more, they were taken out. They were dressed in clothes, not their own, but similar to those they’d been captured in.
“Some were loaded into a KAMAZ [a vehicle made by the Kamskiy Avtomobilny Zavod], but we were lucky, we were traveling in luxury conditions – In a UAZ [a vehicle made by the Ulyanovsky Avtomobilny Zavod]. There were 10 men and about three to four women in that car. We were brought to the airport and loaded onto an airplane. Then we flew to one place, loaded on another plane, flew to another place, unloaded. Then we were put on a bus,” Petro said.
Petro said that everyone was blindfolded and handcuffed during the journey.
Petro didn’t hold out hope that he was going to be part of a prisoner exchange. Not hoping for the best meant not being surprised when worse came – as it nearly always seemed to do.
On that same day, Petro said, there was a group of about 80 prisoners who were told they were going to be exchanged but were in fact taken to another prisoner colony.
On the way to Ukraine, “everyone was sitting in silence.”
When the POWs approached the border, one of the Russians accompanying them told them there would be a prisoner swap.
Petro and the others were unloaded from the bus, told a direction to go, and walked there on foot.
That day, Sept. 21, 2022, 215 POWs were returned to Ukraine, with 188 of them Mariupol defenders like Petro.
Some of the now legendary commanders and fighters who defended Azovstal were returned. Among those exchanged to the Russians was the oligarch Viktor Medvedchuk, a close friend of Russian leader Vladimir Putin.
Petro said that he saw many old friends, many of them emaciated enough that they were, at first, difficult to recognize.
Once the exchange had happened, the Ukrainians could call their families and friends.
But not knowing any phone numbers by heart, Petro couldn’t.
“It’s a good thing I didn't know any numbers because I would have given them up there [in the torture],” Petro said – and there were many cases of Russian wardens, falsely promising to release Ukrainian POWs in exchange for their families wiring over money.
The POWs were taken to a hospital in the Chernihiv region on Ukraine’s northern border – where, for the first time since his capture, Petro spoke with his brother.
There were health checks. Surprisingly, although he lost more than 40 kilograms (88 pounds) over his four months of captivity, Petro’s tests came out normal, though he still received general rehabilitation afterward in a hospital in the capital, Kyiv.
“I was back in the ranks very quickly and recovered very quickly,” Petro said, who wasted no time in returning to the battlefield despite being eligible for deferment.
“ Everyone is draft dodging, running away, no one cares about the army. Everyone is running away from the TRC (Territorial Recruitment Center) so fast now. This war, if people don't unite, will last a very, very long time,” Petro said.
Petro said that he and his fellow soldiers are now raising money for First Person View (FPV) drones for the 21st battalion of the Separate Presidential Brigade.
PayPal:[email protected]
Link to the fundraiser jar:https://send.monobank.ua/jar/3dLSRNjZt7
Bank card number: 5375 4112 1460 0814
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