CHERNIHIV, Ukraine — For Olga Serhichuk, the sight of dozens of her countrymen returning home from brutal Russian captivity is bittersweet.
Like hundreds of desperate others, she had come to a hospital in Chernihiv, north of Kyiv, not only to welcome the shaved, beaten-up Ukrainian prisoners of war who were coming home as part of a prisoner exchange with Russia.
Serhichuk, who turns 39 on Friday, was also hoping that one of the liberated men had seen or heard news of her husband, Serhiy, 42, with whom she has a son, 5, at home.
“I’m happy for those who came back. I’m also very saddened that my husband is still out there somewhere,” she told NBC News through tears Tuesday while, like most people here, holding a large photograph of her husband, who she last heard from in November when he called to say his 36th Marine Brigade was headed to the embattled northern city of Sumy.
“I’m waiting and hoping that he’ll be back home soon,” she said. “Even if he’s sick, it matters not. I want him to be alive.”
This was the latest round of prisoner exchanges that emerged from diplomatic talks between Ukraine and Russia in Turkey on June 2. Negotiations may have yielded little progress toward ending the war itself — the attritional trench warfare and Moscow’s relentless bombardment remain as fierce as ever — but an agreement to each swap at least 1,200 prisoners of war and the bodies of thousands of dead fighters provided a silver lining.
Tuesday was the second consecutive day on which Ukrainian POWs were reunited with their families. The men who got off buses and out of ambulances were in bad shape: their heads shaved, faces gaunt and bodies showing signs of physical abuse. Many reported being beaten by their captors.
“I was in three prisons,” said Oleksandr Kulakov, one of the freed soldiers in Chernihiv. “The attitude in the last prison was the worst. If someone had no unbroken bones, he would get broken bones in there.”
His Russian captors were “mainly breaking people’s ribs,” he said “They didn’t break arms or legs, mainly ribs.”
These accounts follow research by Amnesty International and others that documents alleged war crimes by President Vladimir Putin’s regime during a grinding battle that has become Europe’s bloodiest conflict since World War II.
Amnesty says the number of detainees in Russia isn’t known but likely numbers in the thousands.
The latest credible estimate of killed and wounded soldiers on both sides, by the Center for Strategic and International Studies, a Washington think tank, this month, said there have been almost 1.4 million, around two thirds of them Russian.
The desperate search for missing soldiers is a stark reminder of the often unseen price of war felt by families on both sides of the front line.
Ludmyla Yevhenivna is looking for her two sons, who were drafted into the Ukrainian army last fall and went missing in January. She hasn’t heard from her older son, Sergiy, 50, since he disappeared while fighting in the Kursk region.
Yevhenivna’s younger son, Vladyslav, 39, was captured by Russia near Kursk. She shared three videos published on Russian accounts showing her son in military uniform answering questions about his service.
“My family, my mom, I miss you a lot,” he said, his look to the camera still bringing tears to his mother’s eyes.
“I don’t wish anyone to go through this.” Ludmylla said. “I don’t wish an enemy to go through all that.”
There is hope among the yearning tragedy, however.
Tanya Shestak could not contain her glee when one of the soldiers recognized a picture of her father, Vova Shestak, who went missing 10 months ago in the eastern city of Pokrovsk.
“Today, a guy recognized his photo,” she said, wearing a broad smile. “Two days ago, he saw him in prison in Kalyniv or Kalyshiv. And he said that he’s alive and he’s a tough nut to crack.”
The families of Ukrainian detainees have had to rely on such hearsay about their loved ones. In November 2022, the early months of the war, United Nations investigators said Ukraine granted its teams access to the prisoners it had detained, whereas Russia refused.
Ukrainians said they were subjected to beatings, electric shocks and dog attacks by Russian authorities, not only to extract information but to intimidate and humiliate them. Russian prisoners also reported being tortured and badly treated, even witnessing summary executions, mostly when they were first captured or being transported to another location.
Ukraine has been guarded about the number of prisoners exchanged so far, citing the need to keep a close hold on details during the delicate exchanges.
“The exchange process is expected to take more than a single day,” Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said in his nightly address Monday. “The details of the process are quite sensitive.”
Ukraine releases scant information about which soldiers are coming home. Hence the scene in Chernihiv, where families are waiting on the off-chance that their loved ones may be in this lottery draw.
“I want to know the truth about my child,” said Tamila, 50, whose only son, Mykola, 32, went missing near Bakhmut in October. “If he died, I just want to know that.”
Richard Engel, Gabe Joselow and Victor Sema reported from Chernihiv, and Alexander Smith from London.
