October 23, 2023

Добре Вечір,

Today was absolutely the most emotional and rewarding day I have had in my six visits to Ukraine.

While planning this trip, I contacted a Ukrainian woman named Lila Trokhymets. Her brother Roman is a somewhat “famous” soldier over here. He has been on CNN and other networks several times as well as newspapers like the Washington Post. Roman is a sniper in the Azov Brigade and he has suffered several injuries including being injured in a missile strike with Lila while eating at a pizza place the eastern city of Kramatorsk last summer. The blast killed several Colombian journalists, a former US Marine serving in the Legion and many others. Roman is now in rehab for a TBI. While undergoing therapy and seeing the conditions of his fellow soldiers, he suggested to Lila that she organize trips to visit the wounded.

We met Lila and her ever expanding team at the military ward of a hospital in northern Kyiv. They have a process now of basically taking orders for food and supplies and visiting the guys, telling stories, taking photos and just spending time with them. The group included a famous Ukrainian opera singer, a professional dancer, and a Ukrainian resident of the US who works as a humanitarian volunteer in both countries. There was also a Ukrainian beauty queen, a professional photographer and Lila’s father Mykola, his friend Vadim and a man named Oleg with whom I previously spoke with to plan our participation. Oleg is all smiles and hugs. Ukraine is a country of huggers.

We visited the soldiers in their rooms, some with up to five men each. Often one or more family members was visiting as well. The first room were guys who had just come from the front and had only been here a few days. I am used to seeing trauma and injuries but as we entered the room I was a little concerned about Sam, even though she thought she new what to expect.

The hospital is exactly what you expect from a former Soviet medical facility. Paint and wallpaper were chipping off, the floors were uneven and resembled sidewalks. Empty 1950s era gurneys filled the halls. The smell of antiseptic, sweat and blood immediately filled our noses. The men had fresh amputations of arms and legs. Tubes ran in and out of them and hung on ancient rusted IV stands. Their bandaged wounds seeped.

We distributed the aid bags, took photos with them and talked to them. When one found out we were Americans he told me how his American body armor had saved his life. Unfortunately Sam was not able to sing to them because they all had concussions and still had ringing in their ears and headaches from the 24/7 bombardment.

The second room was occupied by a man named Zhenia and his mother who was visiting him. Zhenia was a double amputee and had lost both his legs at the hips. He was basically half a person. But he was also the most animated, positive and funny of the men we met. After taking photos with the beauty queens and dancers, Zhenia listened to Sam sing what we now call her hospital repertoire. Stand by Me, Let it be, Hallelujah, I won’t back down, and Ring of fire. Zhenia sang along and lifted his arms and really got into it. We took more photos and exchanged hugs and handshakes and one of Zhenia’s buddies gave me the patches off his uniform and I gave him a Border Patrol patch.

The third room was occupied by five soldiers from the 5th Assault Brigade. This is the unit I have adopted and supported with rifle scopes, clothes, vehicle maintenance and morale visits at the front. It is also the unit that Sasha and Slavic belonged to. These were two men we met in June who died a few weeks later.

As Sam played, the room was fixated on her. The guys filmed and sang along at times. I watched as some drifted off into a trancelike state and I was reminded of the “Thousand Yard Stare” common throughout history among shell shocked troops and immortalized in the famous painting by Tom Lea. Sam’s last song was Hallelujah. Halfway through, one of the men, a leg amputee, openly wept. As he wiped his tears with his bedsheet, Sam began to cry, I began to cry, the girls cried, everyone cried. Sam couldn’t continue singing but she played while Lila finished the song. It was “a lot” as they say. We exchanged hugs and handshakes. I gave one of the guys a patch and we joined him on the balcony. In each room, we left a pineapple. This has become the symbol of Lila’s team and her missions.

Between visits I spoke at length in broken Ukrainian with Mykola, Lila’s father who responded in broken English. He insisted on carrying Sam’s guitar as we made the rounds. He is genuinely one of the nicest people I have ever met. His son has been fighting for years, and he almost lost both kids in the pizza parlor. We agreed to video chat with eachother and practice language when I get back to the US.

Lila told Sam, “I knew you were good, but OMG you are amazing.” This sentiment was reiterated by the men and the team. Needless to say, I am a proud dad. Lila asked if Sam could go to the east, near the front and sing for the guys coming in and off the lines. That is up to Sam but I told Lila we would have to think about that.

The fourth room was a more ambulatory room, but each man had either a colostomy bag, or a catheter tube coming from some part of his body. One of the guys asked if he could play Sam’s guitar and said he hadn’t played since the war began. He immediately went into a combo rock, rap and blues rendition of a poem of sorts, but according to the girls, he changed the lyrics to something more akin to locker room humor. Everyone was rolling. All the men in each room filmed Sam and this one was no exception. They told me they appreciate having the ability to watch it all again in the days to come.

We ate a surprisingly good meal in the hospital cafeteria but then, after six hours, we had to say our farewells. Lila said they would actually probably not be finished until 9pm, but we had an early on Monday, and Sam was spent emotionally and physically.

Mykola went with us to the trolley to the metro and all the way back to our hotel. As we hugged goodbye, I told him he was a great father, and he responded that I was as well. He thanked Sam, and told her how brave she was to come all the way here and how much our visit means to him and his country, a statement that we have heard every day, as we always do.

More to follow
Mark and Sam