Volunteer fighter Simianyn: "If Myf hadn’t died, we would have occupied checkpoint, and then we would have all been killed there."

Author: Violetta Kirtoka

There is still no street in Dnipro named after the volunteer Simianyn (Family Man), Andrii Shyrokov, a father of three siblings and two adopted children who was killed in 2016 at the Svitlodarsk salient.

Andrii Shyrokov's call sign was given to him by his comrades-in-arms when they found out that he was the father of many children. So he went by the name Simianyn. He joined a volunteer unit - the legendary Right Sector in 2014 - and went through fierce fighting at Donetsk airport. Hanna, his wife, supported him in his decision, primarily to keep his trust. He told her about his comrades-in-arms, the battles he took part in, and the situations that arose. The 12 and a half years of their married life were different. But Hanna calls them happy, even if she recalls quarrels.

After her husband's death in 2016, Hanna says that at first, she felt him by her side all the time. It was almost physical - he was standing next to her, hugging her...

She still talks to Simianyn's comrades-in-arms, asking about her husband, as if she wants to know something she doesn't know.

"I DIDN'T HAVE ANY CHILDREN BEFORE ANDRII. I WASN'T GOING TO HAVE ANY ANYMORE"

- Andrii went to war in 2014, in the summer," says Anna, Andrii Shyrokov's wife. - "When the events on the Maidan were happening, we were watching them on TV. I perceived them in my own way, he in his.

- What do you mean, in your own way?

- I was worried that people were being beaten - unarmed people. And he didn't say anything. I was crying at the TV screen. We had already had five children, all small, because I gave birth to my first child when I was 34. Although I kissed Andrii for the first time when I was only 16... We were in the same company, where I was invited by a completely different person. I can't say that I was in love, but Andrii was just very handsome: dimples, eyelashes... And a bunch of girls who hung on him! And I don't like that. Andrii didn't show that he really liked me. So we kissed, and he joined the army.

- Was he older?

- By one year.

Andrii didn't write me anything from the army, and I got another boyfriend.

Fifteen years passed. Together with his mother, Andrii built a house in the private sector, the one I live in now. One of our mutual acquaintances was doing renovation work for my neighbours. At the time, I was living alone. I had returned from Russia, where I worked for eight years at the Alexander Nevsky Lavra. I'm an artist. Through mutual acquaintances, I heard this about Andrii: a womanizer (he used to be a Romeo, now he’s a womanizer), married five times, ten children—something like that. In reality, he had been married twice and had only one child, a boy, because his first son passed away in his first marriage. That acquaintance said: "Andrii was asking for your number." I said: "Okay, give it to him. He called. I told him, "I'm attending landscape design courses; you can pick me up." He came over. The whole time, I kept looking at him and thinking: "No, that's not Andrii, that's not Andrii..." He looked terrible: no curls, no dimples—just two wrinkles in their place. A very bad haircut made it even worse. I said: "You look like some kind of convict just out of prison." So, we started talking. He kept visiting me. I was 33, and he was 34. Our relationship progressed quickly. Somehow, it was immediately clear that we were together. That was it. I moved in with him, and he bought a truck with our joint family money.

- Did you have any children before Andrii?

- I didn't. I wasn't going to... And now we're dating. We traveled together in the truck for a year—it was amazing... It was like we were rooting into each other. At first, he had a 20-ton truck, but he sold it and bought a 5-ton one to stay closer to home. A year into our relationship, I gave birth to our first daughter. Andrii really wanted to be there for the birth. He didn’t make it in time for the first daughter, nor for the second—my labor was very fast. He was either in another city or just leaving with a load, and I was already at the maternity ward. After that, he sold the 5-ton truck because we decided to adopt a six-month-old son after having two daughters. At that time, the eldest daughter was three years old, and the youngest was one.

- Why did you decide to do this?

- I don't know. This is Andrii. We lived together for only 12 and a half years. I’ve been alone for eight years now... During those years before the war, we managed to finish my mother's house, have two daughters... And then he said to me: 'Once you recover a bit, you'll give birth to a son.' I replied: 'I’m not going to have another child at 41. How long are we going to keep playing this game? What if it’s another girl? Besides, girls are great—they’ll take care of you in old age and stay in the family. A daughter will definitely give you grandchildren. Andrii liked this so much that he would repeat it to his friends: 'A daughter is definitely yours!' But he kept insisting: 'You’ll give birth to a boy.' I said: 'I don’t want to. Look at how many abandoned children there are.' At that time, in 2008, under Yushchenko, there was a great program: 'A family for every child.' 'Magnolia TV' was constantly showing orphans. I said: 'Do you see how many abandoned kids there are? Let’s adopt!' He said: 'I need to think about it.' When my dad used to say, 'I need to think,' it meant 'leave me alone, no.' I asked: 'How long will you think about it?' And he replied: 'I’ve already thought. Let’s do it. And he took care of everything himself. We passed all the medical examinations very quickly. We adopted a boy, Mykola, when he was six months old. Andrii did so much for him—you can’t even imagine. Mykola couldn’t crawl, couldn’t sit up. By the time we officially adopted him, he was already nine months old. He couldn’t sit, couldn’t hold his head—he just lay there like a vegetable. Plus, he was so thin—it was scary.

-Have you chosen a baby?

- The children in that house were lying in playpens – they were all the same to me. How could we choose? We just took the one with the documents we were given. At that time, I already knew that a child develops the most in the first year of life. And if they slow down somewhere, it is very difficult to catch up later. We took Mykola into the family as foster parents, without adopting him. In order to be allowed to do so, you have to take a course. It's ten days from morning to evening. They were very strict about it. After the courses, you get a certificate whether you can be a foster parent or not. Andrii really didn't want to go to those courses, but he did. And afterwards, he said: "It was great!" It was at the courses that we were told that a child has to go through all the stages of development to develop skills. At that time, Mykola wasn’t crawling and didn’t show any desire to do anything. But Andrii made him crawl. Now I really miss Andrii's ideas, his calmness, and his deep, correct view of things.

For example, he was very much against bribes. When the children went to kindergarten, he did the repairs himself – with his own hands. Have you seen many fathers doing repairs? He was wallpapering. When Iliia, the youngest, started going to kindergarten, and Andrii was at war, I was asked to pay 450 hryvnias for a boiler or something like that... The teacher knew me because she had all the children. Andrii said: "No!" I argued: "They will say that I didn’t put up it alone, it's not convenient..." He said: "No. They have to go to the city authorities and demand that they fund their needs, not their parents." He was like that. I said: "What should I do?" - "You tell her: when your husband goes to war, I will pay 450 hryvnias." The teacher is about my age, and her husband is the same. I told her my husband's words. She clucked and cackled so much: "Ah! What is this! How can you say such things!" I said: "Andrii told me so". She never bothered me again.

Later, when our second daughter was diagnosed with peritonitis, Andrii was on rotation. He was still a volunteer fighter at the time, so he requested permission to be absent, stayed for two more days, and spent the night at our daughter's hospital – she had just been transferred from the intensive care unit to a ward. When they demanded money from him for the catheters, he said: "No. You have to provide them. We don't have to buy."

He was like that, you see, and he never spoke out loudly, never declared his position.

"I USED TO DREAM OF LIVING ABROAD, I WAS EXPLORING DIFFERENT COUNTRIES. BUT THE WAR CHANGED EVERYTHING – I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!"

- Wait, Mykola is the third child. But you have five children.

- A year and a half after Mykola, we took in two-year-old Oleksa. We needed to restore balance within the family. The girls used to send their brother about his business, saying: "You're a boy, go away!" I told Andrii: we need another boy. Well, we know where to get one. We went and wrote an application. That's when Oleksa got his status – his mum abandoned him. So we took Oleksa. And then...

We got married only when we took Kolia into our care. Before that, we just lived together. Andrii used to say, "I’ve already been to the registry office twice, I don’t want to go again. There’s nothing interesting there." When we went to take Kolia under our guardianship, we were told, "It would be better if you were married." I replied, "No…" I knew how Andrii felt about marriage, and I was perfectly fine without a stamp in my passport. But then Andrii gave in: "You’re all pressuring me so much, I can’t refuse. Let’s go and get married." I said, "No, I don’t need that." So, I didn’t have a wedding dress… And he just tossed a ring on the table and said, "Here! This is for you." "What is this?" "I went to the Kyiv Lavra and bought it for you." I didn’t wear it because he tossed it at me. But when he went to war in 2014, I put it on. He said, "Finally, you’re married!"

Once, we had a period when we were fighting terribly. At that time, we were supposed to go to Italy to visit my mother, who had been living there since 2002. Andrii said, "I’m not going anywhere. We’re divorcing—what’s the point of going to Italy? You wanted to go, you bought the tickets—so you go." My sister Christina acted as the mediator. I don’t know what she said to him, but eventually, he agreed to go. I flew there first and gave him the address. By the way, the kids stayed at home—we arranged for someone to watch them. Then I found out that Andrii’s plane wasn’t being allowed to land in Italy due to a strike, so it landed in Austria instead. "That’s it," I thought. "He’s definitely not coming now." But he managed to board another flight, landed in Austria, traveled by train, and finally arrived by taxi… I was in shock. He didn’t know a single word of English. He later told me how he had explained, in Russian, at the train station in Vienna, where he needed to go—back then, we still spoke Russian. Somehow, they understood him. The ticket clerk gave him the ticket, and he told her, "Learn Russian, sweetheart!" (laughs). These days, he’d probably tell her, "Learn Ukrainian."

And so, in Italy, we reconciled. We divided up all the unresolved issues, made peace, and then… I got pregnant with Illia.

- How old were you?

- Forty. I gave birth to my youngest son at 41. It was 2012.

We returned from Italy, and I called my mom. I said, "Mom, we have news!" She said, "You’re adopting another child, aren’t you?" "No, we’re having a baby!"

- How did Andrii react to this?

- He was thrilled. By that time, we didn’t have a car anymore, and Andrii was working on construction sites. He even accompanied me to the maternity hospital and was there during the birth. By the time Andrii went to war, Illia was two years old, Margarita was eight, and the boys were six.

Andrii came home one day and told me, "I’ve joined Right Sector." It was summer, around June-July 2014.

- Donbas was already on fire...

- Yes, Donbas, the annexation of Crimea… He had friends in Donetsk, and he called them before the referendum. I remember that conversation. He asked, "What’s going on with you all?" They said, "We’re going to the referendum." "You’re idiots!" he replied. They said, "Donbas won’t be brought to its knees!" Andrii repeated, "You’re idiots!" After that, we didn’t talk about it anymore. We just watched TV,  and that was it. When he told me he had joined Right Sector, I asked, "Why specifically there?"  "You know, I already went to the military enlistment office. They can’t find my file… Plus, I officially have three children with my surname—Shyrokov—but my sons have different last names: Horbachov and Havryliuk. I also went to Dnipro-1, but they told me to wait, and no one has called back." I looked at my husband and thought, If I don’t say ‘yes’ now if I don’t support him, he won’t come back to me. I don’t know where this thought came from, but I knew: If I didn’t support him, he wouldn’t return to me.

Of course, I supported Andrii. He packed his things and went to Desna for training. That was the first time in my life I bought a solo trip—without the kids. My friend and I planned to go to Slovakia—I was still considering moving abroad and was exploring different countries. Andrii reassured me, "I’ll go to training, then I’ll come back, and you’ll take a ten-day break. Everything will be fine." I didn’t believe him, but that’s exactly how it happened. He completed his training, came back, and stayed with the kids for ten days—taking some to school, others to kindergarten, and feeding Illia porridge. When I returned, he picked up his backpack, and a week later, he was at Donetsk airport.

- And how is Slovakia?

- A disappointment! Just a village.

- Not moving there?

- We’re not moving anywhere. That’s all. After Bucha, my mother begged me, "Get out of here, take the kids!" But I told her, "Mom, I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving anymore. Andrii’s grave is here. Everything has changed for me. I’m staying." Though the kids did leave for a year.

- Andrii was in the 1st Assault Brigade, commanded by his friend Podolianyn. He joined Podolianyn and was with him during his second deployment to Donetsk Airport. The first time, he went in with Bohema. When Andrii was fighting in 2015, I asked him, "Who are your friends?" He replied, "After Kasper, no one." In war, you can’t get attached to anyone.

- Did your husband tell you honestly where he was?

- I asked him, "Go—it’s your choice as a man. But promise me you’ll call." I didn’t call him often because one time, I called, and he said, "I’m sleeping." It was during the day. "How are you sleeping?" I asked. "We’re on duty four on, four off." I stopped calling after that. I thought, If I wake him, he’ll go on duty tired, and something might happen. So we agreed that he would call me. And he called me from Donetsk Airport every single day!

There is a famous photo from DA, taken on a mobile phone. It shows friend Skeld, Sviatoslav Horbenko, Andrii, Bers, Yaryi, Cobra... This was the first time they entered the airport. Andrii had been there for a week, for seven days. I marked all the days in my calendar. That was the battle in which Skeld and Casper died in front of Andrii. He met both of them at the Desna base. Then they were together in Pisky and went to the Donetsk airport, but Andrii was sent there two days later. The guys showed him around, showing him how things were. They died because a tank shot at them.

Andrii called every day, spoke briefly, and said, "Everything is fine." And at the same time, there was gunfire in the background — toot-toot-toot... Then, after a while, he would say, "It was very scary at the airport." After his first entry into the airport, Andrii came home for a while. He asked me to take him to the cemetery where Casper was buried. We found out at the Right Sector headquarters that his name was Serhii Andrieiev. When buying a wreath, Andrii asked me to write on it: "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." It was then that we started switching to Ukrainian. It was then that my husband said that they shot at the sound of Russian at the airport. It was very significant for us. I did it my own way: I read a lot and watched what was being done to Ukraine. He had his own approach. He didn't read; he was a practical man. And although I studied at a Ukrainian school, Andrii always corrected my mistakes.

After a short rest, Andrii returned to Pisky. The second time he entered the airport was in November. He stayed there for 11 days. Andrii went in with Podolianyn’s group, which spent 21 days there. When they were leaving, Andrii wasn’t with them because earlier, a small piece of shrapnel had hit his jaw, causing severe pain. He said: "I am not a fighter, take me out." There is a photo from that period: the men are pictured against a wall with the word "Simianyn" written on it. Andrii isn’t in the photo—by that time, he had already been evacuated.

November, December, January, he was at home, not fighting. In general, he did not fight in the winter... He said that his hands used to be frozen: "It's hard for me to hold a weapon in the cold, sometimes I can't feel it". That's why he came home in winter. The volunteer unit allowed such liberties.

"THERE IS A RULE IN COMBAT: THE LIGHTEST WOUNDED ARE CARRIED OUT FIRST"

- "As soon as the 'greenery' started in 2015, he immediately returned to the war," says Hanna. -  "He was there for two or three months and was seriously injured—he was standing near a girl with the call sign ‘Buttercup’ when she blew up."

By that time, Andrii had already become a sniper. His personality suited the role: he could lie still for long periods, wait patiently, and make a single precise shot. He was also a skilled mathematician. In 2016, he even helped his daughter solve math problems over the phone from a dugout. I have a photo from that moment—Yana Chervona took it.

I was very jealous that Andrii would have another woman in the war. No, I wasn't jealous, it isn’t the right word.  I told him: "Andrii, I understand what war is like. The emotions there are completely different. There’s so much risk…" In their unit, there were Pearl, Yana, and Xena—just three of the women I knew about. I said to him: "Please, if you ever start a relationship, tell me right away." But I’m getting ahead of myself.

...2015. Andrii was a sniper, and his spotter was Malyi. Together, they went to inspect positions. Buttercup guided them along with another guy who seemed to be a local. She warned them: "The guys checked everything here yesterday; it's all clear." Andrii was the first to go...He didn't like a lump and stepped over it. Malyi stepped over it too. Buttercup, walking third, stepped on it. The explosion tore off her legs and injured her eye. She was critically wounded. Malyi's legs were hit by a lot of shrapnel. Andrii also sustained injuries, breaking his metatarsal bones as he fell on his side.  But he was not injured. For a long time, Buttercup couldn't forgive Andrii for carrying Malyi out instead of her. However, they called for an evacuation, and a vehicle was dispatched to retrieve them. Moreover, there was another soldier with Buttercup...

Later I asked Andrii about it. He said this: "Ania, there is a rule in combat. I thought she wouldn't make it. You evacuate the lighter one first. Malyi was lightly wounded. But we issued the evacuation command for her too. She also had a soldier with her—why didn't he carry her? He wasn't seriously injured; maybe he got hit by something, but he could walk." That is, Andrii was very practical. And tough in some ways.

Thoughts by Andrii Shyrokov:

"We left the airport and decided to have a drink, to remember the fallen guys—Kasper, Skeld... Siever was at the base. We quietly locked ourselves in a room and talked to Siever. His eyes were heavy, and you could feel something was wrong with him. I stepped out because I felt uneasy. I didn't understand why. Then I came home and he was dead. I felt like something was going to happen. It was the same with Myf. The day before he died, he told me something, and I felt hard. And for some reason, I even remembered Siever. I had the same feeling.

I had a similar sense with Buttercup. She started explaining the plan and where we would go. But I had a bad feeling. That’s why I went first. It was a heavy premonition. But I was the one who walked that path first...

After I was wounded in Starohnativka, Podolianyn didn’t include me in the next operation. At that moment, I knew Budiak would die. He was a stout man, with a slightly peculiar look. When he spoke, you could immediately sense how intelligent he was. Later, I found out he had been a chemistry teacher. Still, I was certain he wouldn’t make it to the end of the war."

Memoirs of Solodkyi's comrade-in-arms Andrii Shyrokov:

"Andrii had an aura that attracted. I wanted to talk to him, listen to what he had to say, even though he didn't speak much. One evening, a story was shown on TV about a girl who had returned from treatment in Germany after being seriously injured - she had lost both her legs and one eye. It was a girl from Drohobych, my countrywoman. I told Andrii that I knew her. He asked me to tell him how. In winter, I worked as a ski lift operator. One day, a girl came up to me and asked what I was doing here, that there was a war going on in the country, that young boys were dying, and that we, the older ones, were doing nothing for the Victory. It was that girl with the pseudonym Buttercup. Then Andrii told me how she lost her legs and an eye because he was with her.

I had a short period of communication with the Simianyn. But he had a significant impact on my worldview and my vision of life. And this is despite the fact that I was 46 years old at the time. It was thanks to Simianyn that I began to understand who we are as a nation, what to do next, how to live."

- How long did it take him to recover?

- I can't say. He didn’t get back on his feet as quickly as he wanted to. I saw how many small fragments remained in his leg—they couldn’t be removed and became encapsulated over time. Andrii bought an exercise machine and started working out at home to recover faster. His injury wasn’t too complicated, but the leg fracture took time to heal. By autumn, he had returned to the war and was fighting again. That winter, he came back home. And in the spring of 2016, he went once more.

In the summer, he sent us to the sea. One day, he called and said: "We’re going to officially enlist in the 54th Brigade." Something about it unsettled me, even though I don’t usually pay much attention to such signs—some don’t come true. But this time, I felt uneasy. I asked: "Why?" He replied, "They’re not letting us fight. They’re blocking our actions and withholding weapon supplies."... At the end of the summer, they officially joined the 54th Brigade. Myf died on 26 June. I found out that Andrii had been in the same battle with him from his sister, Khrystyna. She and I are completely different. When Andrii went to war, she took his minibus and started driving to the front lines, bringing borscht in cans and pilaf to the guys stationed at ‘The Bridge’ position in Pisky. She fed them there. One day, she came to visit us. Andrii had just been home for two days. Khrystyna asked me: "Did you know he was in the battle with Myf?" I said: "Khrystyna, you know, he tells me a lot of interesting things when we’re alone, without the kids." She replied, "You should record him." So I did. I have four short stories from Andrii, including one about the battle with Myf. I got him to open up, turned on my phone, and recorded the entire conversation.

Andrii Shyrokov's story about the battle in which Myf died:

"I saw who was shooting at Myf. The distance was 400-350 meters. We saw him, and he saw us. Imagine a road. And a house — maybe it used to be a traffic police post. The separatists turned it into a checkpoint. The road was blocked by anti-tank mines in a checkerboard pattern. They weren’t even dug in. They just stood on the asphalt. Then there were two foundation blocks across the road and a concrete ring. Myf and I were lying on the right side of the road. He lay further to the right, closer to the grass, to the roadside. I saw a separatist pop out from behind the "greenery" near the checkpoint. He was about a meter and a half from the ring. He lay down behind it. No one would’ve had time to catch him. From behind the ring, only half of his face and his rifle were visible. And we were lying completely on the road. Who’s easier to hit? Us, of course.

We could have hidden. But we had a different task. We had to go to the checkpoint and capture it.

"Did you capture it?" Hanna asks.

No. Because Myf was killed. We had to take him out. There were also two wounded. We had to run away. Podolianyn decided to leave. And it was a reasonable decision.

The Myf has slipped down. He was still alive. And medical worker Fish was saving him to the last. But it was clear that he could not save him. The bullet entered his shoulder. It passed through his body and came out the side. Myf was lying on the road with a machine gun. The bullet hit the ammo box. It ricocheted and went into his body. It was a good bullet.

You know, when the sniper jumped out, I took aim at him and fired. But a bullet takes two seconds to reach its target. When a person sees a shot, he has time to hide. Because I did not have a silencer or a flame suppressor. You can see the shot. He saw it and ducked. The bullet flew past, and he popped out again. He fired a shot but missed. I fired back, and he hid again. That’s when I realized we were at a disadvantage—we were lying there completely exposed, like a large target on the road.

That's why I told Myf to not just lie there, but to shoot. If he didn't hit, he should at least suppress the sniper so that he wouldn't stick out. So that I would have time to catch him in my sights.

I shout to Myf "Go ahead and shoot". At that moment, he put his head out, made a shot, and hit Myf. If Myf had fired, everything would have ended differently...

When we were heading to the checkpoint, the military were advancing toward 'Muraveinik'—the name of a separatist position, because there was a lot of equipment there and a lot of separatists. They took 'Muraveinik' in heavy fighting, with KIA. But there was no support. They got hit by mortar fire. Then the order to withdraw was given. Yes, they managed to inflict heavy losses on the separatists, but we also suffered our own casualties. If we had taken that checkpoint, within half an hour—or even less—the separatists would have reinforced. Four or six APCs with troops would have shown up. What could we have done against those APCs? We didn’t have the weapons to deal with them. And then the mortar fire started. If the military hadn’t sent us two APCs that pulled up and into which we loaded Myf, things would have been disastrous. As soon as we pulled back, that location was shelled to hell. If we had taken the checkpoint, we’d have been killed there.

Taking the checkpoint would have made sense only if we had proper support—armor, artillery. Then we could have held it. But if Myf hadn’t been killed, we would have gone in, and all of us would’ve ended up dead. That’s exactly how I think it would have played out."

- "Andrii had an old Dragunov sniper rifle without a flame suppressor," Hanna continues. - "After this battle, he started raising money for a proper rifle. We found one for three or four thousand. We raised one and a half and he died.

When he was home, he made a mount for a machine gun. "It's really expensive, so I'll make it myself," he explained to me. He called his comrades—since they didn't bring weapons home—and they gave him the dimensions. Using that, he built this square contraption out of metal profiles. He could make anything... I asked him where he learned to do it, and he said it was just curiosity. "When I was 10 or 12, someone gave me a bike. The first thing I did was take it apart and put it back together," he said. After welding the machine gun mount, he packed it into a bag and took a bus to the base to zero in his rifle.

Talking about the battle with Myf, Andrii also mentioned Kurt. He was... a border crosser.

From the story of Andrii Shyrokov:

"He was a short, muscular guy. I asked him, 'Is it true that he fought on the other side?' 'Well, yes,' he says, 'the devil led me astray.' He had even been involved in Crimea. He didn’t fully understand what he was doing back then. Later, he ended up with Motorola... He's got a lot of sins. Near the airport, he worked as a medical worker—gathering the wounded. While doing that, he got injured himself. His testicle was shot off. After treatment, Kurt joined us. He was with us in the battle where Myf was killed. Fish tried to save him. I took Myf's assault rifle, someone’s RPG—it was loaded with everything. Then I remembered that Myf’s machine gun was left on the road. I told Kurt, 'There’s a machine gun on the road where Myf fell, grab it.' He was supposed to crawl out of the grass and drag the machine gun back. But instead, he stood up to his full height, grabbed the machine gun and its ammo box, and bent down to throw it to me. That’s when the sniper fired. The bullet hit him between the legs. He fell down, screaming, 'They shot my balls! Fish, help me!' His pants were soaked. The bullet went through one leg and out the other. Everything was still intact, but he was terrified. Fish checked him over and reassured him that everything was fine."

"Andrii, recalling that moment, laughed until he cried," Hanna continues. "And I thought: 'How can you laugh? You’ve all been through so much...' But they coped with that black humour, with laughter. I understand why they were drawn to that brotherhood, the kind that you won’t find anywhere else. Once, Andrii’s comrade, friend Bers, said to me: 'You know, losing your husband is nothing! I lost a friend, the only one I ever had in my life. So calm down. I will never have a friend like that again.'"

In October, there was a swearing-in ceremony in their brigade. So on the 14th of October, my birthday, he didn’t come. That was the last time we argued. And the last time I saw him was on the 20th of October 2016. He got three days off. He managed to plant a peach tree, which gave a hundred peaches this year, though before it never bore fruit, and he planted an apricot tree. I never saw him again…

The brigade had already offered Andrii an officer's position. But he refused. He told me exactly why: "I have a family. I want to be more free - if something happens, I want to be able to come to you. And if I have people under my command, I won't be able to get away when I need to - I have to be responsible for them."

Andrii was killed in action alongside his company commander, a young officer Mykyta Yarov, call sign Shaitan. He was posthumously awarded the title of Hero of Ukraine. Andrii was awarded the Order for Courage, third degree, for this battle. I really did not want to accept it. I didn't think my husband was worthy of any third degree. I still regret accepting that award. My sister Khrystyna convinced me of this. She said: "The children need it." Children do not need! Children need a father. And I don't need this award. The only award that he respected and was proud of was the Knight's Cross, which he received for Donetsk airport. Yarosh presented it to him.

Once, I dragged Andrii to school with the kids. He was very reluctant, but I knew it was important. I remembered how, during Soviet times, veterans would visit schools, and we still don’t have anything like that. I brought him to Marharyta’s fourth-grade class. It happened to be the Day of the Heavenly Hundred. Andrii wasn’t much of a speaker, but when he did tell a story, it was always captivating. We brought a red-and-black flag covered with signatures, including Da Vinci's. The kids asked about the call signs: "Why 'Psycho'?" Andrii explained. It turned out to be a very engaging meeting. Afterward, he said: "Now I understand why it’s important to go to schools and talk to the children." He saw the excitement in their eyes. For that meeting, Andrii wore the Knight’s Cross. He didn’t know where or when to wear it, since he’d never worn it before.

"I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO GRIEVE, TO CRY. THERE WERE CHILDREN AROUND ALL THE TIME"

- On the day Andrii died, did you feel anything?

- I had no premonitions. I received a call from Podolianyn's wife and said: "Hanna, there is a battle. Andrii is missing or 'KIA'. She called me immediately, and I asked her to do exactly that if something happened.

On 19 October, there was a battle, and then we searched for him for four days. On the 23rd, they pulled him out of the woods, which were being shelled.

I dreamt of Andrii the night I was told he was "KIA" or missing. It was such a vivid dream! A green meadow, green summer grass—so beautiful—and Andrii and I were walking through it. It felt like he had come on a business trip, a red car, his minibus, and we were just strolling. Then we sat by the river and talked. There were some Muscovites nearby. I said: "Look, it's impossible to sit here with them around." And he said: "Don't pay attention to them." We kept talking about something. The river was very stormy. It was a steppe river, twisting, but the water was crystal clear. I remember sitting there, dangling my feet in it. Then he said: "You know I have to go back, right?" I said: "Yes, I understand." I felt so sad in that dream... I woke up and thought: he came to say goodbye. They searched for him for two or three more days, but I already knew he was gone. On the 25th, we buried Andrii.

There were rumors that Andrii had been taken prisoner during the battle and tortured. During those four days when they were trying to find him, my Khrystyna was looking through some photos and recognized him... They said that after the torture, his body was thrown back into that forest. Khrystyna didn’t show me the photos: "I don’t recommend you look at them." I accepted this truth for myself: Andrii died in battle, during heavy artillery fire. Both our soldiers and the enemy had struck.

- Did you see the man before he was buried?

- His face was distorted. I opened the coffin for a short time. But I ran my hand over his head and I knew it was him. I know all the hollows of his head. It was him.

- Was it important for you to make sure it was him?

- Of course. But I don't want to know that he was tortured and brought back to the forest. There are limits beyond which I can go and not come back. So I decided for myself that I did not want to know. I know that he died during the battle from a mine-blast wound that was incompatible with life.

-How were the children told about their father's death?

- On the 23rd he was taken out, on the 24th he was brought to the morgue. I called each child separately and talked to each of them. Marharyta, the eldest, who was ten years old, took it the worst. She cried a lot, saying: "It's not true, it's not true!" They had a very good relationship.

The second daughter took it the most calmly, but she clung to the red and black flag at the burial and proudly walked with it. She was eight years old. Illia took it the easiest - he was four. After about six months or a year, he asked me: "Mum, does Dad have a big beard up there in heaven?" I used to read him fairy tales about his dad becoming a star. And he imagined that he now lives in heaven.

- Your older children are already teenagers. They may go to war, just like their father...

- I'm not afraid of it. Subconsciously, maybe I wouldn't want it. But... In general, I would like all boys to go through the army. And Marharyta, the older one, when she was 14 or 15, said that she might have wanted to go to a military university.

-Who gave Andrii the call sign Simianyn? Or did he choose it himself?

- He came back from Desna and said to me: "Do you know what my call sign is?" "No." "Simianyn." I got goosebumps... He was a construction worker and a truck driver—I could have said long-haul trucker. But he shared what was important to him: "I have five children." And then everyone said: "Oh, so you’re Simianyn!" No one else has such a pseudonym! That’s why I feel so sad and hurt. I don’t know where else to turn, since our city authorities keep ignoring the renaming of a small lane of just 40 houses named after Adam Mickiewicz. There’s already a street nearby with that same name. We want it renamed in honor of the volunteer fighter, Simianyn. We don’t want the name 'Andrii Shyrokov Street'—we want 'Volunteer Fighter Simianyn Street.' If you search Google, you’ll find lots of Russians named Andrii Shyrokov. But there’s only one Simianyn. And 'Simianyn'—it’s clear he was a volunteer fighter. We've already found that there are such toponyms, and we can name streets with pseudonyms. My Khrystyna even found a whole article about it. But if it’s a no, then it’s a no—I’ll wait.

- You say that you quarreled, that there were different things. But were those 12 years happy?

- Very much so! Andrii and I could quarrel with each other, but never about the children. We had a common view of upbringing.

- How to survive after the death of your husband?

- This is perhaps the most difficult question. I was not allowed to grieve. I really wanted to cry, to suffer, I really wanted to, but I was not allowed to. I had children at home all the time...

- One was very young - four years old...

- Illia had just started kindergarten. And I had no time to grieve. Maybe it was a rescue, a salvation. Because I could not have returned from my grief. The children did not let me. Neither did the Ukrainians. When Andrii died, a lot of Ukrainians - a lot of complete strangers - started writing and sending gifts. For about a year, my entire basement was filled with gifts. Some of the donors are still in my life today. Lesia Borsuk is still with me. She lives in Kyiv. This woman could talk to me for hours. At one point, I asked her: "Lesia, do you have a family, children?" - "Yes, I have a family, children." How does she respond to everything like that? A lot of diaspora people still send money. It's been very empowering.

But it was Andrii who helped me the most to survive—I felt his presence for an entire year. I felt him so strongly. I was standing on the veranda—it was sometime within the first forty days—and it seemed to me that he was right there beside me. I turned to him and asked: "Listen, they say a person can have two guardian angels. Is that true or not?" And I heard his laughter: "You just want two guys looking after you!" His laughter was so vivid... I could even physically feel him lying down and hugging me. There were also many other signs, little clues. Everything seemed to fall into place easily when problems came up. It felt like we had lived together for many years—over twelve. But it turned out to be so little...

P.S. In October of this year, Hanna was visited by Simianyn's comrade-in-arms who had been with him at the airport. He was outraged that the lane had not yet been renamed. "I explained to him that now it is necessary to collect signatures under an appeal from the residents of the lane," says Hanna. "This is probably the 25th excuse the city council has given me about what and how to do to finally honour Simianyn's name. I explained to Yarom that I was not going to ask anyone for anything. And he impressed me: "I'll go!" I printed an appeal, and he went around. He heard everything. He was sent to the war, although he continues to defend the country, and came to see me on holiday... I collected 12 signatures. We brought the paper to the city council. Two months have passed. I still haven't received a response!"

We hope that Hanna will not receive an answer, but the renaming of Adam Mickiewicz Lane to Volunteer Fighter Simianyn Lane. Because it is not just her who needs it, but the whole country.

Violetta Kirtoka, Censor.NET