In Bucha, the Russians forced Sergey Matuk for days to collect the bodies left on the street. They shot at those who left the house, they could not help the wounded or celebrate funerals. About twenty victims had their hands tied behind their backs
FROM OUR SEND
BUCHA Now it’s raining on those dark bundles that he collected piece by piece on the streets of his city during the almost fiveweek Russian occupation. And it’s raining on him too, a cold rain that has already soaked his sweater and sleeveless down jacket. But this hulking man in his forties doesn’t seem to notice, he has a serious look, hands clenched in fists: Sergey Matuk has a very personal relationship with these poor, wet and sandcovered corpses that now lie a few meters away from us drawn from the common grave. One of the first days of March, the Russian officers came to tell me that as the head of the municipal cemetery, it was my duty to take the bodies out of the street and place them in the mass grave dug by bulldozers in the park behind the church from here Sant’Andrea, he says, weighing the words. How many in total? About 300, almost 240 of them, are buried in mass graves because there was fighting and we didn’t have access to the cemeteries. The majority were men, killed by bullets fired at pointblank range by Russian soldiers.
Matuk realizes that at this point every detail counts and speaks precisely, taking his time when unsure of the answer. This is where, alongside the rescue teams, the commissioners of the teams deployed by the Kiev prosecutor’s office sit to find evidence that would allow Russia, and perhaps Vladimir Putin himself, to be charged with war crimes at the International Criminal Court in The Hague. The Russians didn’t want the population to take care of the dead. They shot anyone who left the house. Because the corpses they had to collect began to decompose and became prey for dogs abandoned on the streets, increasing the risk of spreading disease. They told me I had to work alone, but I hired two of my helpers, we got rubber gloves and masks and we started patrolling the city. It was deserted, the Russians were not only prevented from going out, but also from helping. It was not possible to help the wounded, it was forbidden to recover the bodies, hold funerals or even try to save people under the rubble. In the persistent rain we see them pulling a woman out of the grave. I think among those first forty bodies there are three women. The Russians didn’t make much difference, anyone who left the house became a legitimate target in their eyes, he adds, noting that the vast majority were attacked by the Russians and few fell victim to bombing during the battle. Some showed clear signs of abuse and torture, many were hit by bullets in the head, I discovered about twenty had their hands tied behind their backs. Let me be precise: only three out of three hundred are Ukrainian soldiers who died in battle.
His words are repeated by the parish priest, who highlights a story that we have already heard in other villages in the region: we saw that Russian soldiers forced those arrested at checkpoints to undress if they saw nationalist tattoos on their skin, shot on the spot. the pastor again to emphasize that among the victims there could also be raped women. We haven’t known anything about many of them for some time. Matuk nods and meanwhile shakes the hand of the broken brother of one of the dead. They’ve known each other for years. They say the names of others who have disappeared. No doubt, in the coming days, many residents of Bucha will come to ask him about their loved ones.
April 9, 2022 (Modification April 9, 2022 | 09:02)
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