Akwaria Magras

He pretended to be dead among the corpses in a Mariupol hospital. Then he heard a russian soldier with an amputated leg say, “The Germans did all this.” Ihor, callsign “Hare,” is a marine from the 38th Brigade. He survived the defense of Mariupol, a severe injury, captivity, and torture. It all began in Pavlopil, where the russians launched a massive assault with tanks, Grad rocket launchers, and artillery. His unit held its positions for five days before retreating to Mariupol. Then came the Illich Steel Plant, where Ihor suffered his worst injury. An eight-and-a-half-centimeter piece of shrapnel lodged in his body just below his heart. His arm and back were riddled with shrapnel wounds. He was evacuated to the Second Regional Hospital, where doctors simply stopped the bleeding and stitched up his wounds. There was no time for surgery. All around him lay people with severed limbs. Then the hospital was stormed. Russian soldiers entered the wards, searching for Ukrainian marines and Azov fighters. Ihor lay in his military uniform next to the body of a dead man. A nurse covered his marine tattoo with antiseptic green dye and bandages so nobody would recognize him. They moved him from place to place, hiding him among the dead, under constant shelling, without food or water. Five days of starvation. Nobody was even removing the bodies from the hospital wards anymore. It was then that the russians brought in one of their own wounded soldiers, whose leg had been amputated. Ihor heard the other soldiers trying to comfort him. The wounded russian said, “The Germans did all this.” Ihor would hear that same claim many more times during his captivity. When there seemed to be no way out, Ihor took the hand of a woman from a Turkish family who had come to collect a wounded civilian. “I am a Ukrainian marine. Please help me.” She ran away. He thought it was the end. But the woman returned with her neighbor, and together they led him out of the hospital, past russian soldiers pointing their rifles at them, claiming he was their brother. Under shelling, through checkpoints, with his wounded arm already beginning to rot, he finally reached their home. The family hid him for two weeks – in an old building, in a basement, and in the trunk of a wrecked car. Then came the port. From there, Azovstal. They traveled by sea in motorboats, under russian airstrikes. And on May 18 came the order to lay down their weapons. Captivity. Olenivka. Horlivka. Interrogations. Torture. Teeth knocked out. Documents he was forced to sign without even being able to see what he was signing. He had weighed 100 kilograms before captivity. When he emerged six months later, he weighed just 40. After Ihor was released in a prisoner exchange, he underwent rehabilitation and returned to military service. Under Ukrainian law, he could have been discharged because of his injuries. He chose to stay. “My brothers-in-arms are still there. I cannot just walk away.” Today, Ihor serves as the first sergeant of his company and continues to fight. Because he believes that as long as someone continues to hold the line, those still in captivity have a chance to return home. Source: translated from Oleh Bairak.