Natalia Stupnyk may never know what happened between her husband’s departure on the morning of March 12 and the moment, 19 days later, when she first saw a video showing him and her nephew falling dead in Shiny’s basement Children’s Health and Leisure Center. . All she knows is that she was told they were leaving to bring painkillers to a local elderly person in need. By then, they were accustomed to deadly road trips under Russian control, after weeks of traveling to war zones to transport food, water, medicine and children’s toys to people hiding in a nearby nuclear bomb shelter. “They left by car at 9:30 a.m.,” Stupnyk said. “They were going to deliver medicine. “But they never returned.” Just three weeks later, their bodies were found underground, next to three other men. Most had their hands tied and the corpses showed obvious signs of abuse. The discovery of the bodies was one of the ongoing atrocities in Bucha, a community west of Kiev, following the withdrawal of Russian forces last week. The Prosecutor General of Ukraine called it a “torture chamber”, accusing Russian soldiers. The Kremlin claims that its soldiers have not killed civilians. But The Globe and Mail, in a dozen interviews with family, friends and local authorities, located the five men found in the basement and learned of the weeks of fear and courage that led to their disappearance. Viktor Prutko, 24, installed doors and was involved in advertising. Volodymyr Boychenko, 35, worked with a blacksmith. Serhii Matiushko, 41, was a worker. Valeriy Prutko, 47, did plumbing work. Dmitriy Shumeister, 56, had just started a cleaning company. Why they were captured by Russian forces and how they spent the time between their disappearance and death – perhaps in captivity – is not known. But the discovery of their bodies suggests a atrocity that may one day be part of a war crimes prosecution. “We are absolutely convinced that all the work we do day and night will be used directly in the International Court of Justice to prove our guilt. “These crimes are not justified in any way,” said Andrii Turbar, deputy chief of the Bucha district prosecutor’s office. He spoke outside the building where the bodies were found, which had been used as a command post by Russian forces. “These people were just locals providing food to others. What was the point of killing them? “ Natalia Stupnyk, wife of Valeriy Prutko, and Lyudmila Kovalenkom, mother of Viktor Prutko, near the family home in Hostomel, Ukraine. ANTON SKYBA / The Globe and Mail The bodies of the men remain in state custody, where the nature of their death will be examined and documented. But police photos and television footage show signs of barbarism. Mr. Shumeister seemed to be missing an eye. Mr Matiushko’s teeth appeared to be broken. Mr Boichenko’s skull was visibly wrinkled. His family was told he had been shot in the knees and chest. “It’s not murder. “It’s torture and humiliation,” said Ilona Ilchenko, Mr Boychenko’s cousin. Those responsible “are worse than animals,” Ms Stupnyk said. “I curse their whole family for all their abuse of my husband and nephew.” The five men found in the basement were not all saints. Some had broken relationships. Some were prone to rage. Some had a history of police interactions and domestic abuse. They talked about looting. But no one had any military affiliation, friends and relatives said. Butsa residents face consequences of massacre, fearing return of Russian forces Ukrainian prosecutors try to gather evidence of war crimes in Butsa Instead, when the war came to their homes, they offered to help. Russian attack helicopters and paratroopers arrived in the early hours of the invasion, trying to take control of a key military airport in Hostomel, a community adjacent to Bucha. Most of the five men lived a few miles from the airport. By nightfall, many of their neighbors had sought refuge more than 10 meters below ground, in the security of a shelter below the Bucha Penitentiary, a decommissioned prison nearby. The shelter accommodated 286 people. They slept in prison beds and mattresses, but conditions quickly became difficult. A virus swept, leaving many sick. Supplies are exhausted. But coming to the surface was a danger. The mortars fell on the prison area. The Russian troops “started firing when they saw people from the prison going for water,” said Victor, a senior prison official whose name The Globe and Mail was not released because he was not authorized to speak in public. One of the men at the shelter, Viktor Zabarylo, 64, offered to use the blue Peugeot Boxer van to collect supplies. “People would have been hungry without food,” he said. Too big to go himself, he entrusted the truck to a group of men who were willing to cross the roads. They included the five men who were later found in the basement and another: 16-year-old Aleksey Buhera. To get supplies, the men broke into the shelves of local stores. “We also invaded pharmacies because there were people who just could not be left without drugs,” Mr Buhera said. They marked the van with yellow crosses and filled it with carrots that had come from a local processing plant. They brought back rice, pasta, potatoes and some meat. Sixteen-year-old Alexey Buhera stands in front of Bucha prison.ANTON SKYBA / The Globe and Mail There was no other option, Mr Buhera said, than to break down the open doors to get what they needed. Their main goal, he said, “was to feed the shelter.” But some in their group also tried to take advantage of the chaos. Mr Buhera watched as some of the group tried to steal a car. He heard them discuss plans to rob an electronics store. Inside the shelter, however, the men were considered heroes. “According to martial law, the most important thing is human life. “And these people saved a lot of lives here – even if the way they did it was illegal,” said Victor, a prison official. He described the men as “adventurous”. And the dangers were real. Mr Boichenko was “afraid. “He was really scared,” said Alena Boychenko, his sister, who spoke to him regularly. “Sometimes he even cried on the phone. Once, he told me that he loves me. That’s something he never said. “ On March 10, authorities evacuated the shelter, evacuating some people to other parts of Ukraine and sending others to their homes. But men continued to provide goods for the people who needed them. They started again on March 12. They told different stories to different people. Ms Stupnyk heard that they were planning to deliver drugs. Mr Shumeister, a well-known cook who loved to sing Soviet pop songs, told his wife Victoria Verde that he wanted to retrieve documents left in a car he had abandoned during heavy bombing at the start of the Russian invasion. What happened next is not clear. But a short drive from Hostomel in neighboring Bucha, Victor Petrovich watched the blue Peugeot arrive at Campa, a tennis club that serves as a stage for people leaving. An evacuation corridor had opened “and they were getting crowded,” Mr Petrovic said. The van left Kamba and headed in the direction of the Buha’s council buildings, on a route past the Shiny Children’s Center, less than a mile away. Victoria Verde and Viktor Petrovich, the last eyewitness of the blue truck shot were standing in front of the vehicle in Bucha.ANTON SKYBA / The Globe and Mail A short time later, Mr Petrovic heard the sound of automatic fire and the crash of a vehicle that had broken into gas pipes on the side of the road. He later showed up to see the blue Peugeot return. Now, however, he was spotted with bullet holes. He found it empty, with the keys left inside. He believes the men were returning for a second evacuation, he said on Friday, recounting his memories to Ms Verde. “They saved people,” he said. “I did not know that”. Mr Petrovic said the recollection of his exact dates was obscured by the stress of the war. But satellite images of Planet Labs examined by The Globe show that the van was not present on March 11. A next picture 10 days later shows it there. Mrs Verde can only imagine what happened to Mr Shumeister after the van crashed on the side of the road – and struggles to figure out how her husband found himself in the cellar of a Russian-controlled building. All he knows is that he was stubborn in his insistence on distributing goods, even when the bombing was often so intense that the house shook and they slept in their clothes. “The war is long,” he said. “You have to help people.” Reported by Anton Skyba The Morning and Afternoon Newsletters are compiled by Globe editors, giving you a brief overview of the day’s most important headlines. Register today.
