BORODIANKA, Ukraine – The first sign of unrest was when a squad of Chechen soldiers exploded on the fence.

They jumped out of their Jeeps as their combat boots slammed into the pavement and ordered 500 patients and staff of the Borodianka Home for People with Special Needs to exit the yard, while gunfire was aimed.

“We thought we were going to be killed,” Maryna Hanitska, the home’s director, said in an interview this week after Russian forces left Borodianka.

Hanitska recounted how the soldiers pulled out a camera.

They shouted at Hanitska to make everyone smile.

Most patients are in tears.

“We instructed you to tell the camera:

‘Thank you, Vladimir VladimirovichPutin‘”The soldiers asked Hanitska.

Hanitska mentioned that, with a lot of guns on her face, she was in a hurry to go with her options.

He never thanked the president of Russia, whom he called “liar” and “murderer””.

But he did not want anyone to hurt the soldiers.

So he was able to say, “Thank you for not killing us.”

Then he died.

So began a nightmare trial at a Ukrainian mental health facility in Borodianka, a small town with several apartment buildings sitting at a strategic intersection about 80 kilometers northwest of the capital, kyiv.

Testimonials

In more than a dozen interviews over the past two days in Borodianka and other towns in devastated areas around kyiv, residents described the Russian soldiers as brutal, sadistic, poorly educated and immature.

Not all accounts of the villagers can be verified, but they are consistent with other accounts and visual evidence of Russian behavior in the region.

The siege of the mental health center continued for several weeks, during which the building was left without heat, water and electricity, and over a dozen of patients who lost their lives.

What happened there represents the depth of despair and at the same time the incredible courage during a short but painful conquest of Russia.

Managers of the Borodianka specialized mental health home said Russian soldiers stole the supply of current alcohol to drink.

Residents in other areas mentioned they stole blankets and sports shoes and broke into many of the houses they took with childish graffiti.

Workers at the mental health center also commented that, at the time of their departure, Russian soldiers had written obscene messages on the walls … with stool.

“I was sick when I saw that,” Hanitska said.

“I don’t understand how they were raised, who raised them and who could have made it.”

Lypivka, a small town that looks insignificant against the immense wheat fields that surround it, was occupied by Russian soldiers until 31 March.

According to the villagers, they were betrayed by the Russians.

Some villagers asked Russian commanders for permission to evacuate, and the Russians apparently agreed.

So, on March 12, a group of older men, women, and children boarded fourteen cars and slowly began to travel toward a place where they thought they were safe.

“We were all carrying white flags and we had permission,” said Valriy Tymchuk, a salesman, who drove a minibus from the convoy.

However, armored vehicles loaded with Russians turned their turrets towards them, according to villagers ’accounts.

A shell attacked the first car. Then another. Then another.

The convoy turned into a ball of fire.

Tymchuk mentioned that he saw a family of four, including a child, trapped in their car and engulfed in flames.

Many of the burning vehicles are still in the middle of the street.

That boy’s burnt bones are still in the back seat, according to Tymchuk.

What seemed to be pieces of bone were scattered on black metal and a pile of ash.

Next to the vehicles were two dead dogs, their fur singing.

Tymchuk barely escaped after being hit by his minibus and shrapnel cut his face.

He shook his head when asked why he thought the Russians did it.

“they are zombies“, answered.

Hanitska, 43, a former school principal, said she watched from the windows of the three-story building people with special needs as Russian trucks poured.

He counted 500.

Then, the Russians, worried about the snipers, began shelling into apartment buildings lined the streets and dozens of residents died under a cascade of debris, according to emergency service officer.

Shock waves shook the home for people with special needs, built in the 1970s to keep adults with neurological and psychological diseases.

ang Hanitska said some of her patients became aggressive and three more escaped and were never found.

Others were scared and crammed under their beds and in their closets.

“It’s more than ten times more frightening,” said Ihor Nikolaenko, a patient.

On March 5, the situation worsened.

That day, the Chechens appeared.

Chechen soldiers are especially feared, as they are believed to be more ruthless than other Russians, coming from the years of their own separatist war against Russia’s central government.

The Chechen contingent mysteriously retreated the same day it arrived, but other Russians took their place.

They did not allow anyone to leave the building, even did not go out to look for food, and surrounded the building with artillery, mortars and high-caliber weapons, knowing that the Ukrainians would be reluctant to attack them.

“We will be human shields”, Said Taisia ​​Tyschkevych, the home accountant.

risks

The Russians took everyone’s phones.

Or almost everything.

Hanitska commented that she hid hers and used it to communicate secretly.

According to Hanitska, she would lean out the window of the nurse’s station and see Russian vehicles, then text the details to Ukrainian forces.

“They are attacking the Russians,” he said.

“If we hadn’t done it, the fight would have happened in kyiv.”

On March 13, Hanitska looked out the same window and for the first time in weeks saw something that warmed her heart: a convoy of yellow buses.

He was thrown at the gate.

“There were two choices: they shot me or I rescued people,” he said.

Aid workers organized a rescue and the Russians finally allowed the patients to leave.

The bus took them to other facilities in the less disputed area.

Hanitska is dry but humble and has an ugly sense of humor.

Asked how long he worked at home, he laughed.

“Two months,” he replied.

“You can probably say I’m lucky.”

c.2022 The New York Times Company