Fighting in the area was fierce, and retrieving his body complicated. It took days for the army to manage to extract him and get him home.
On May 16, Iuliia, her nails painted alternately in the blue and yellow colors of the Ukrainian flag, waited outside their home as the funeral van arrived with his coffin. Mourners lined the street, kneeling in respect as the van drove by.
She clutched her son's hands as the funeral procession made its way to the small cemetery on the outskirts of the village, national flags fluttering in the breeze.
The grave was open and waiting, the band standing to one side. Leaving the mourners behind, his wife walked ahead with the coffin and asked the pallbearers to set him down on the grass.
She sank to her knees, ragged sobs escaping in agonizing breaths. One last time, she caressed his chest and bowed over him. For a final few moments, she could be alone with her husband, the man who had gone so quickly from civilian to soldier — and then was gone.