n
Two years ago on Valentine’s Day, Olha Chesnokova told Yevhen Volosyan that she loved her. They met a month earlier on Tinder, linking music. Ms. Chesnokova, a 46 -year -old psychotherapist, said she wanted to “wait for the right time to tell her” – but not too long. Mr. Volosyan had decided to join the army, and soon they would be separated.
Two months later, Mr. Volosyan, 37, left for the front. He served as a radio operator, sapper and finally drone drone, stealing suicide quadcopters from Russian forces at a distance.
The couple got married a few months in Mr. Volosyan’s service, with him briefly returning to kyiv to say: “I do it.” Back at the front, he remained in contact with his new wife by SMS during the day and video calls at night, when darkness anchored drones.
On November 24, 2023, Ms. Chesnokova sent him a text around noon.
Ms. Chesnokova, reassured, continued her day, waiting for sunset to reconnect with Mr. Volosyan. She registered again around 5 p.m., but he did not respond.
Her husband had bought her a ticket for a concert that evening from Serhii Zhadan, their favorite Ukrainian artist, and they had agreed that she would call him from the series, so that he could also listen. But he did not show up online.
More and more, Ms. Chesnokova sent her a text again.
Ms. Chesnokova returned home and waited anxiously. Just before midnight, the commander of Mr. Volosyan called to tell him that he died in bombing. Abassied and in tears, she spent the night trying to grasp the loss. Then the next morning, she sent him a last message – knowing that he would never be read.
Love for a flying ace
Melaniya Podolyak, 29, and Andrii Pilshchykov, 30, did not even have time to get married.
They met in the spring of 2023 when Ms. Podolyak, a media project manager, interviewed Mr. Pilshchykov, a fighter pilot. Better known by its call index, JuiceMr. Pilshchykov was a leading face of the Ukrainian Air Force. He had helped defend Kyiv at the start of the war and Visited the United States Press for the supply of F-16 Jets to Ukraine.
Like many Ukrainian women, Ms. Podolyak initially hesitated to go out with a member of the service, fearing that her combat functions would leave them for a short time. But the kindness and the reflection of Mr. Pilshchykov conquered him.
For six months, she traveled every weekend to see him where he was parked. During the week, they spoke for hours at night when he was not flying. “I was deprived of sleep all the time,” she said, laughing.
On August 24, 2023, they led to the basis of Mr. Pilshchykov, two o’clock west of Kyiv. They talked about its move to the United States for a program to form pilots on F-16s. They also discussed marriage – which would facilitate the visit of Ms. Podolyak.
The next day, Mr. Pilshchykov left for a training mission.
Mr. Pilshchykov had to return in a few hours. When he did not do it, Ms. Podolyak sent him a message.
Then came a call for an Air Force knowledge, informing him that Mr. Pilshchykov’s plane had collided outdoors with another jet.
She would not believe it and sent him desperate messages.
Dreams of France
Like Ms. Podolyak, Valeriia Parfeniuk tried to visit her boyfriend, Danyil Kunchenko, as often as possible. But the opportunities were rare – he was a machine gunner on the eastern front.
Their relationship started on a cat website where they met at random, then spoke for three hours in a row. He flourished from there.
They were called every time they could – video calls only, never audio – and dreamed of the future. He wanted to move with her after the war in France, where part of his family lived, and become a military instructor there.
Last month, Ms. Parfeniuk, 28 -year -old visa director, had a rare opportunity to visit Mr. Kunchenko, 22, in Izium, an eastern city ravaged by war where troops often rest between combat missions. She took a night train of 12 hours of kyiv and arrived on January 8.
True to the form, the couple spent more than an hour on video calls that day, then sent a text to what extent they were impatient to meet the next day.
But Mr. Kunchenko did not show up in Izium the next day.
Ms. Parfeniuk checked when he was active for the last time online: 3:39 over the day, her concern has deepened and she found reasons for her absence. Maybe he had received a new task? Maybe he was injured? She called and sent him a text.
It was not until the next day that Mr. Kunchenko’s comrades gave him the news: he died during a combat mission, only a few hours before he met.
“I stayed there, unable to understand it,” said Ms. Parfeniuk. “And I still can’t. I’m still waiting for him to come online.
The bullet of a sniper
The expectation of Darya Ulman on her husband, Kirillo, was scary.
They met at the end of 2022 in Dnipro, a large city in eastern Ukraine. The war leaving little time to lose, they became a couple within three days and married within six months. “Something just clicks,” said Ms. Ulman. “Everything happened so quickly.”
Mr. ULMAN, 36, served in some of the worst hot spots on the eastern front. At the beginning of 2023, he was in Bakhmut, a city whose brooding ruins became a symbol of the brutality of the war. Later, he moved to Avdiivka, captured by the Russians last year after a prolonged seat.
The specter of death is looming on the couple. Mr. Ulman had lost many friends in Bakhmut. Sometimes, Ms. Ulman would find him fulfilling forms before a combat mission, detailing who informed if he did not come back and how he wanted to be buried.
On the day of Valentine’s Day last year, he sent him a laconic message to say that he was leaving for a new mission.
Mr. Ulman did not respond. The next day, his wife again sent him a text, telling her that she had kissed her wedding ring several times during the night and that she hoped that he had felt it in a way.
Two days have passed. She continued to send him SMS, clinging to the hope that he would respond.
On the morning of February 17, Ms. Ulman learned from her husband’s deputy commander that he had been killed by a sniper. For almost two months, his body was in a buffer area, inaccessible by Ukrainian forces because of the fighting. Finally, the Russian troops recovered the remains and returned them a month later. The ball of a sniper had torn his face.
Mr. Ulman’s messages on Valentine’s Day were the last he ever sent. She always goes up her telephone account, to make sure that no one else ever takes her number.
“That’s all I have left,” she said.
n
n
