海角大神

Husband, son, father, angel: A Ukrainian family mourns its hero

Zhanna Palahniuk never doubted that her husband 鈥� a Ukrainian paratrooper whose bulletproof confidence was honed by years of combat 鈥� would be in the thick of the battle, or that he would always prevail.

Then, in late April, Russian forces engaging in a major new offensive bore down on 1st Lt. Oleksandr Palahniuk鈥檚 Ukrainian Army unit, on the Izyum front in northeastern Ukraine.

In daily video calls, he began telling his wife of serious challenges and morale-sapping shortages, even of vehicles. A born problem-solver, who grated against hierarchy yet found his calling in the military, the deputy company commander said he resorted to evacuating the wounded on his own motorcycle.

What he didn鈥檛 tell her was that the fight was becoming overwhelming 鈥撀燼nd that he had stepped on a landmine. The device clicked but did not detonate, momentarily sparing the experienced fighter from being added to Ukraine鈥檚 soaring daily death toll then of 100 to 200 soldiers.

鈥淚 could see that something happened, that he was really deep into his thoughts and depressed,鈥� Mrs. Palahniuk recalls, her voice cracking at the memory of the decorated and exhausted paratrooper, called Sasha by all who knew him, who was long overdue for rotation.

鈥淗e was disappointed and stressed. He asked me to bring our daughter to the phone, so he could talk to her,鈥� she says of 6-year-old Yulianna. 鈥淚 made a screenshot of his face and sent it to him. I said, 鈥楲ook at yourself now. You look pale, tired. ... You should look after yourself.鈥欌��

If his wife could detect a trace of vulnerability, it was not something he projected in those days to strangers. Dressed for combat, in a brief encounter with this correspondent April 25 in Druzhkivka, Lt. Palahniuk鈥檚 handshake was strong and his bearing confident, showing he was no stranger to the front lines.

He offered an 鈥渆xcursion鈥� to the front, then late the next day and again the following messaged that he could not meet because things had escalated dramatically.

On April 28 he was killed when a Russian tank scored a direct hit on his armored vehicle. He was at the village of Kurulky, in Kharkiv Province, carrying orders to front-line troops 鈥� not to retreat.

鈥淭here was never even one thought that something like this could happen. Never,鈥� says Mrs. Palahniuk, her arms folded protectively around Yulianna, both still reeling from the loss weeks later.

鈥淚 was confident in him, that he could find a way out of any hard situation,鈥� she says. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 how I coped.鈥�

The weight of sacrifice

Amid the high casualty numbers from Russia鈥檚 invasion of Ukraine, the death of a single soldier may appear barely significant, adding just one statistical notch to the toll as this war enters its seventh month.

But, as in any conflict, behind every number is a human face and a colossal impact on each family, which is left to grapple with loss.

In the case of Ukraine, which is being defended against a more powerful aggressor, the weight of sacrifice is clearly articulated in the tidy farmhouse ringed with rose bushes where Sasha Palahniuk was raised, in the rural western village of Pokutyne, near the border with Moldova.

鈥淲e have to keep living, we have to believe in victory, to understand that he didn鈥檛 go in vain,鈥� says the paratrooper鈥檚 father, Mykhailo Palahniuk, whose work on his 15-acre wheat, barley, and soy farm has left his face sun-kissed and his fingers cracked.

鈥淪asha died for Ukraine, he died so that something like Bucha would never happen again,鈥� he says, referring to atrocities committed by Russian troops in the northern Kyiv suburb in March.

鈥淲e are Ukrainians, and Sasha defended us,鈥� says the farmer. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 worth it. Sasha did something good, he meant something. We think he鈥檚 a hero.鈥�

Despite the high personal cost, for this family and so many others, 鈥渨ithout such a sacrifice鈥� the country would be occupied by Russia, Mr. Palahniuk says, just as the Ukrainian peninsula of Crimea was captured in 2014 and then annexed by Moscow.

鈥淲e live differently, we just want our country to prosper, to live well. That鈥檚 all we want,鈥� he says. Nearby a portrait of his son in military dress uniform sits beside a pillow bedecked with medals.

Preserved in Sasha鈥檚 former bedroom are pictures of him in fighting gear with a camouflaged head wrap, and several certificates of training with American and other NATO troops. There is a paratrooper beret, a live large-caliber round, and a pair of fake hand grenades, painted black.

鈥淪asha鈥檚 brothers-in-arms are really missing him, because there are very few people like him left,鈥� he says.

High on the wall is a depiction of the winged Angel Gabriel.

Trying to cope

Less than 100 yards from the house, up a cobblestone road covered with cracked asphalt, is the cemetery on the southeast edge of the village. Ukrainian and battalion flags fly over Sasha鈥檚 grave.

It is piled high with flower arrangements, and when his family members visit 鈥� this time with flowers in the Ukrainian national colors of blue and yellow 鈥� they each silently touch and kiss the wooden cross. The official death announcement notes that the 鈥渆nemy takes the best sons of Ukraine,鈥� but adds: 鈥淓ternal memory, heroes don鈥檛 die!鈥�

鈥淚t鈥檚 very hard for us; we are still trying to find a way to cope with it,鈥� says Larysa Palahniuk, the lieutenant鈥檚 mother, her tearful face framed by a black headscarf.

鈥淚 can鈥檛 believe this happened to my son,鈥� she says. 鈥淎t the same time, we have part of his blood, we have someone to live for,鈥� she adds, referring to her granddaughter.

The challenge of telling Yulianna the news fell to her mother. Throughout the war, the girl would ask: 鈥淗as Papa called?鈥�

When her father failed to call on her birthday in early May 鈥撀爅ust a week after he was killed 鈥� Yulianna asked her mother why.

鈥淥ur father is already an angel,鈥� she told her.

Weeks later, when the funeral had passed, Yulianna again asked why her father did not call.

Her mother then asked: 鈥淗ow do people become angels?鈥� The girl replied: 鈥淪o, was Father killed?鈥�

It was an inevitable, excruciating moment: Yes, she was told.

A commander, not a farmer

Sasha was a 鈥渞egular boy鈥� who enjoyed fishing and camping, his parents recall. A special love was a 650cc motorcycle that still sits in a shed.

The officer-in-waiting rode the bike often, including to dances in nearby villages. But he detested farm work, dismissing it with a common Ukrainian aphorism, 鈥淭his is not the business of the Czar.鈥�

Sasha only went to college 鈥� where he met his wife 鈥� at the insistence of his mother.

鈥淗e was a commander,鈥� Zhanna Palahniuk recalls of her husband-to-be. 鈥淓ven when they lived with the boys in the dorm, he was giving orders and managing people, saying, 鈥榊ou will be washing dishes, you will be cleaning up,鈥� and everyone listened to him.鈥�

He surprised her one day in 2013 when he signed up to join the army.

But he also disliked hierarchy, and would come back from training with callouses on his knuckles 鈥� from all the push-ups he did as punishment for not following orders.

He was sent to Crimea, and in the winter of 2014-15 was at the Donetsk Airport for a famous last-stand battle in the face of heavy Russian firepower.

鈥淪asha is a real warrior, and always was a real warrior,鈥� his wife says.

And while his aversion to what he sometimes considered to be 鈥渟tupid鈥� orders appears to have slowed his advance to the rank of captain, it helped endear him to men under his command. Indeed, as the war increasingly imposed its will on his unit in April, the lieutenant told his wife he felt he had saved his men鈥檚 lives three times by not following all orders.

He told his parents his unit was suffering 鈥渧ery big losses鈥� and had no vehicles; friends even gathered money to donate a car.

Near the end, 鈥淪asha said there was no exit,鈥� says his father. 鈥淗e said, 鈥榃e have a task, but not the tools to do it.鈥欌��

On his last call to his parents, just days before his death, it was 鈥渃lear something had changed,鈥� recalls his mother. 鈥淚 saw he wasn鈥檛 holding it together, he was down.

鈥淲e had an intuition,鈥� she says. 鈥淲e didn鈥檛 sleep all night.鈥�

Neither, in those days, did his wife.

Zhanna Palahniuk today pulls her daughter in tight and kisses her nose, eliciting giggles.

鈥淭he child makes me laugh,鈥� she says of her warrior husband鈥檚 鈥渂eautiful legacy.鈥�

鈥淎t least he has a legacy,鈥� she says. 鈥淭here are many others who don鈥檛.鈥�

Oleksandr Naselenko supported reporting for this story.