The occupiers sentenced Roman Kharchenko, a native of Azov, to 13 years in prison. His sons fall asleep every night with a "Daddy" doll.
Source: SVOI CITY
Author: Hanna KURTSANOVSKA
For over a year, Roman Kharchenko, a defender of Mariupol and a fighter with the “Azov” battalion, has been held captive by the Russians. In late May 2022, the soldier, whose call sign is “Driver,” left Azovstal on orders from higher command. And last week, an occupation court in Donetsk sentenced three Azov fighters in a case involving an attempted murder of a civilian: one received a life sentence, and two others—including Sergeant Roman Kharchenko—to 13 years each in the occupiers’ prison.
Olga Kharchenko, Roman’s wife, reached out to “Svoji.” She is asking for public attention. She hopes this will help free her beloved from captivity—and that Roman will be released in the upcoming prisoner exchanges. Their two sons—Eduard and Vladislav—will finally be able to hug their father.
They lost their home in Krasnohorivka and gave birth to their child under shelling
Roman Kharchenko is now 37 years old. He was born in the village of Bogoyavlenka in the Donetsk region. Six months after completing his military service, Roman met Olga, who was living in Donetsk at the time. He was 20; she was two years younger. They shared a passionate and boundless love.
Olga recalls that they couldn’t live without each other, so just a week after they met, Roman proposed that they move in together. They’ll be getting married in two years.
“In 2012, we bought our first house in Krasnohorivka, which the Russian army is now mercilessly shelling. Unfortunately, we had to leave our home and flee because of the war back in 2014.”
The family has two sons: Eduard has finished 6th grade; he’s 12 years old. Vladislav is almost 9 and is moving up to 3rd grade. Roman was there when they were born.
“July 2014. I remember driving to the maternity hospital to give birth to our youngest. I was crying, and my husband hugged me and said so calmly and composedly, ‘Don’t be afraid, I’ve been through this before; we’ll manage.’ Vladik was born on July 10. My husband was already at home with our older son when the enemy began shelling Krasnohorivka. They took me and my tiny baby down to a regular hospital basement. We had no communication all night. I didn’t know if my loved ones were alive. My husband at home was feeling the same way. Barely able to wait until morning, he came to the hospital to get us and took us home.”
Roman became “Driver” in “Azov”
That day, the family had a serious conversation.
“Can I go to war? Will you let me go?
”
Olga wouldn’t let him go. She asked him to wait until the children were a little older. The older one was almost 4 years old, and the younger one was just a day old. His wife says she delayed it as long as she could—all the way until November 2018.
“Actually, when Roma turned 18, they didn’t want to enlist him in the army because of his heart condition. But his desire outweighed even this illness. At the age of 32, Roma suffered a heart attack. He spent a month and a half in the hospital. After recovering, he still decided to join the ranks of ‘Azov.’ Let me put it this way: he didn’t even consider any other unit—only “Azov.”
The children had grown up, and Olga could no longer hold her husband back. So she became a strong pillar of support for Roman, which he desperately needed at that time. Olga was by his side when he called “Kalyna,” “Azov” Deputy Commander Sviatoslav Palamar, to arrange an interview. He went to the regiment’s base—as it was then known—the day after the interview. At Military Unit No. 3057 of the National Guard of Ukraine, Roman Kharchenko served as a driver and adopted the call sign “Driver.”
“Our phone conversations kept me going. We gradually got used to our new life apart. I could see how much Romi enjoyed being in the military unit, and I was happy for him. ‘Azov’ was like a second family to him. Later, we bought a house in the village where my husband was born. We had to leave it in the winter of 2022; unfortunately, the house has been almost completely destroyed.”
Mike, the Pit Bull Terrier, in memory of Mariupol
On the day of the full-scale invasion, Roman called his wife and said, “It’s started. Pack your things and leave.” On March 1, the village where Olga lived with her children came under air attack. Many houses were bombed, the gas supply was cut off, and cell service went down.
“My husband was on edge because of my silence. Finally, the connection came back—and we heard each other. At that moment, his only fear was for us. We reassured each other during the call. Until March 5, we spoke often, but only for a minute at a time. Then the connection disappeared completely. I call, but his phone is off. Where is he, what’s happened to him—nothing is known.”
On March 13, Olga, her sons, and their dog, named Mike, evacuated in their own car. Roman bought the pit bull terrier named Mike in Mariupol before the full-scale invasion. During the first few days, Mike was with Roman at the military unit, rode with him in the car, and slept in the room alongside his comrades. So, according to Olga, a piece of the city destroyed by the Russian army is now with them in Ivano-Frankivsk.
“Mike is our ‘third’ child. When Roma called from ‘Azovstal,’ the first thing he asked about was the guys and Mike.”
Roman was with Mike for only 19 days. When the soldier’s leave ended, Mike was 4.5 months old; now the dog is almost two years old.
Four hours of happiness—four hours of conversation
“On the day we left, my husband was wounded. A coincidence? I don’t think so! Nothing in our lives has ever been a coincidence. We’ve always sensed each other from a distance.”
Olga didn’t find out about her husband’s injury until a month later. On April 2, at 11:30 p.m., the phone rang: “Hi, Olesya, it’s me.” Just a one-minute call. Such an important minute, filled with both tears and joy. Then silence again...
“On April 15, we got lucky, and we talked for a very long time. Almost four hours with breaks, because something terrible was happening on the other end: I could only hear loud explosions and the word ‘wait,’ after which the call would be cut off. On April 19, we spoke again. After that, there were only messages: two from my beloved and three from his comrades. During the defense of Mariupol, there were three calls and six messages.”
Olga learned about the Mariupol defenders’ withdrawal from Azovstal into captivity from a video message by Redis, the commander of the “Azov” battalion, Denys Prokopenko. On May 16, the first videos showing the wounded being evacuated began to appear on the aggressor’s websites.
“It didn’t immediately sink in what was happening. That uncertainty again. Later, the wife of a fellow soldier reported: her husband had called from the Olenivka penal colony, saying that Roma was with him and that he was doing fine. And soon they would be back with us.”
But as it turned out, things weren’t so good after all. After leaving “Azovstal,” Roman Kharchenko was considered missing in action. Meanwhile, Olga was calling the military unit and checking the lists of her husband’s comrades who had been released. The information was confirmed: “Driver” really hadn’t been released.
“But I wasn’t too worried, because I knew he’d left Azovstal—according to a comrade who’d called his wife from Olenivka. On May 27, I saw my dearest husband in a video from Olenivka. I submitted the evidence to his unit—they changed his status from ‘missing in action’ to ‘prisoner of war.’”
A Knitted Doll Instead of Daddy
Roman’s children—Eduard and Vladislav—saw him on January 5, 2022.
“My younger son didn’t even want to let him go and was crying while hugging his dad. He hasn’t been able to come home since. We haven’t seen each other or hugged for almost a year and a half. The children are growing up without their dad, and it’s very hard. The older one’s voice has already changed. When Roma calls, he definitely won’t recognize his son. The younger one has grown up a lot, too; unfortunately, childhood passes quickly, and Roma doesn’t get to see it.”
Olga ordered some knitted dolls, which the artisan made based on a photo of Roman’s father. Mom says that her sons now sleep with the dolls every night, hugging them tightly.
“You know, when you look at the older one, the way he hugs his toy dad and pulls him closer and closer, you understand the full extent of his pain. He tries not to show that pain, but I see everything. Every day before bed, we first wish each other a good night, and then we wish it to our defender. It’s just like it used to be: before bed, each son would take turns talking to Roma on video.”
Olenivka will ache for the rest of our lives
On the night of July 29, a terrorist attack took place at the Olenivka prison colony. That night, Russia killed 50 Azov prisoners of war.
“That day, I felt like I was dying. Gradually, as I looked through the videos and photos, as I waited for the lists of the names of the dead and wounded. When I read that list, my whole body was shaking. When I saw the name of my best friend Roma’s son on the list of the dead, I couldn’t see anything else through my tears. I was afraid to read any further. You can’t imagine how terrifying it is to flip through those lists—hoping not to see the name of someone you love. I didn’t find it, and I felt a little better. But this pain for the other comrades won’t let me find peace. Olenivka still hurts, and it will hurt for the rest of my life.”
Olga wasn’t able to find out about her husband until September 21, 2022, when a prisoner exchange took place and “Driver’s” best friend was released. The next piece of news came eight months later: on May 6, the comrade who had been in the same cell as Roman was exchanged. He’s alive—and that’s what matters most.
Accused of attempting to murder a civilian—Roman was “sentenced” to 13 years
On May 23, a video of Roman Kharchenko’s interrogation appeared on Russian social media pages. Olga was finally able to hear her husband’s voice. Thin, but unbroken. He held his ground bravely during interrogations by the enemy. During the interrogation, he was forced to admit guilt in the attempted murder of a civilian. The occupiers found the Azov soldier guilty, and a court in Donetsk sentenced him to 13 years behind bars.
“I was completely beside myself all day. The next day, I found the strength to post on social media about the verdict and the 13-year prison sentence. I know that our Azov fighters are doing everything they can to free all their comrades. Unfortunately, not everything depends solely on our country. But I still believe that very soon, my sons and I will hear that long-awaited call from our dad. And we’ll rush right away to our beloved and one and only, no matter where he’s taken after the exchange. Even to the ends of the earth. We’ll embrace him and never let him go, not even for a minute. We love him endlessly. We miss him. And we’re waiting.”
Author: Hanna KURTSANOVSKA
For over a year, Roman Kharchenko, a defender of Mariupol and a fighter with the “Azov” battalion, has been held captive by the Russians. In late May 2022, the soldier, whose call sign is “Driver,” left Azovstal on orders from higher command. And last week, an occupation court in Donetsk sentenced three Azov fighters in a case involving an attempted murder of a civilian: one received a life sentence, and two others—including Sergeant Roman Kharchenko—to 13 years each in the occupiers’ prison.
Olga Kharchenko, Roman’s wife, reached out to “Svoji.” She is asking for public attention. She hopes this will help free her beloved from captivity—and that Roman will be released in the upcoming prisoner exchanges. Their two sons—Eduard and Vladislav—will finally be able to hug their father.
They lost their home in Krasnohorivka and gave birth to their child under shelling
Roman Kharchenko is now 37 years old. He was born in the village of Bogoyavlenka in the Donetsk region. Six months after completing his military service, Roman met Olga, who was living in Donetsk at the time. He was 20; she was two years younger. They shared a passionate and boundless love.
Olga recalls that they couldn’t live without each other, so just a week after they met, Roman proposed that they move in together. They’ll be getting married in two years.
“In 2012, we bought our first house in Krasnohorivka, which the Russian army is now mercilessly shelling. Unfortunately, we had to leave our home and flee because of the war back in 2014.”
The family has two sons: Eduard has finished 6th grade; he’s 12 years old. Vladislav is almost 9 and is moving up to 3rd grade. Roman was there when they were born.
“July 2014. I remember driving to the maternity hospital to give birth to our youngest. I was crying, and my husband hugged me and said so calmly and composedly, ‘Don’t be afraid, I’ve been through this before; we’ll manage.’ Vladik was born on July 10. My husband was already at home with our older son when the enemy began shelling Krasnohorivka. They took me and my tiny baby down to a regular hospital basement. We had no communication all night. I didn’t know if my loved ones were alive. My husband at home was feeling the same way. Barely able to wait until morning, he came to the hospital to get us and took us home.”
Roman became “Driver” in “Azov”
That day, the family had a serious conversation.
“Can I go to war? Will you let me go?
”
Olga wouldn’t let him go. She asked him to wait until the children were a little older. The older one was almost 4 years old, and the younger one was just a day old. His wife says she delayed it as long as she could—all the way until November 2018.
“Actually, when Roma turned 18, they didn’t want to enlist him in the army because of his heart condition. But his desire outweighed even this illness. At the age of 32, Roma suffered a heart attack. He spent a month and a half in the hospital. After recovering, he still decided to join the ranks of ‘Azov.’ Let me put it this way: he didn’t even consider any other unit—only “Azov.”
The children had grown up, and Olga could no longer hold her husband back. So she became a strong pillar of support for Roman, which he desperately needed at that time. Olga was by his side when he called “Kalyna,” “Azov” Deputy Commander Sviatoslav Palamar, to arrange an interview. He went to the regiment’s base—as it was then known—the day after the interview. At Military Unit No. 3057 of the National Guard of Ukraine, Roman Kharchenko served as a driver and adopted the call sign “Driver.”
“Our phone conversations kept me going. We gradually got used to our new life apart. I could see how much Romi enjoyed being in the military unit, and I was happy for him. ‘Azov’ was like a second family to him. Later, we bought a house in the village where my husband was born. We had to leave it in the winter of 2022; unfortunately, the house has been almost completely destroyed.”
Mike, the Pit Bull Terrier, in memory of Mariupol
On the day of the full-scale invasion, Roman called his wife and said, “It’s started. Pack your things and leave.” On March 1, the village where Olga lived with her children came under air attack. Many houses were bombed, the gas supply was cut off, and cell service went down.
“My husband was on edge because of my silence. Finally, the connection came back—and we heard each other. At that moment, his only fear was for us. We reassured each other during the call. Until March 5, we spoke often, but only for a minute at a time. Then the connection disappeared completely. I call, but his phone is off. Where is he, what’s happened to him—nothing is known.”
On March 13, Olga, her sons, and their dog, named Mike, evacuated in their own car. Roman bought the pit bull terrier named Mike in Mariupol before the full-scale invasion. During the first few days, Mike was with Roman at the military unit, rode with him in the car, and slept in the room alongside his comrades. So, according to Olga, a piece of the city destroyed by the Russian army is now with them in Ivano-Frankivsk.
“Mike is our ‘third’ child. When Roma called from ‘Azovstal,’ the first thing he asked about was the guys and Mike.”
Roman was with Mike for only 19 days. When the soldier’s leave ended, Mike was 4.5 months old; now the dog is almost two years old.
Four hours of happiness—four hours of conversation
“On the day we left, my husband was wounded. A coincidence? I don’t think so! Nothing in our lives has ever been a coincidence. We’ve always sensed each other from a distance.”
Olga didn’t find out about her husband’s injury until a month later. On April 2, at 11:30 p.m., the phone rang: “Hi, Olesya, it’s me.” Just a one-minute call. Such an important minute, filled with both tears and joy. Then silence again...
“On April 15, we got lucky, and we talked for a very long time. Almost four hours with breaks, because something terrible was happening on the other end: I could only hear loud explosions and the word ‘wait,’ after which the call would be cut off. On April 19, we spoke again. After that, there were only messages: two from my beloved and three from his comrades. During the defense of Mariupol, there were three calls and six messages.”
Olga learned about the Mariupol defenders’ withdrawal from Azovstal into captivity from a video message by Redis, the commander of the “Azov” battalion, Denys Prokopenko. On May 16, the first videos showing the wounded being evacuated began to appear on the aggressor’s websites.
“It didn’t immediately sink in what was happening. That uncertainty again. Later, the wife of a fellow soldier reported: her husband had called from the Olenivka penal colony, saying that Roma was with him and that he was doing fine. And soon they would be back with us.”
But as it turned out, things weren’t so good after all. After leaving “Azovstal,” Roman Kharchenko was considered missing in action. Meanwhile, Olga was calling the military unit and checking the lists of her husband’s comrades who had been released. The information was confirmed: “Driver” really hadn’t been released.
“But I wasn’t too worried, because I knew he’d left Azovstal—according to a comrade who’d called his wife from Olenivka. On May 27, I saw my dearest husband in a video from Olenivka. I submitted the evidence to his unit—they changed his status from ‘missing in action’ to ‘prisoner of war.’”
A Knitted Doll Instead of Daddy
Roman’s children—Eduard and Vladislav—saw him on January 5, 2022.
“My younger son didn’t even want to let him go and was crying while hugging his dad. He hasn’t been able to come home since. We haven’t seen each other or hugged for almost a year and a half. The children are growing up without their dad, and it’s very hard. The older one’s voice has already changed. When Roma calls, he definitely won’t recognize his son. The younger one has grown up a lot, too; unfortunately, childhood passes quickly, and Roma doesn’t get to see it.”
Olga ordered some knitted dolls, which the artisan made based on a photo of Roman’s father. Mom says that her sons now sleep with the dolls every night, hugging them tightly.
“You know, when you look at the older one, the way he hugs his toy dad and pulls him closer and closer, you understand the full extent of his pain. He tries not to show that pain, but I see everything. Every day before bed, we first wish each other a good night, and then we wish it to our defender. It’s just like it used to be: before bed, each son would take turns talking to Roma on video.”
Olenivka will ache for the rest of our lives
On the night of July 29, a terrorist attack took place at the Olenivka prison colony. That night, Russia killed 50 Azov prisoners of war.
“That day, I felt like I was dying. Gradually, as I looked through the videos and photos, as I waited for the lists of the names of the dead and wounded. When I read that list, my whole body was shaking. When I saw the name of my best friend Roma’s son on the list of the dead, I couldn’t see anything else through my tears. I was afraid to read any further. You can’t imagine how terrifying it is to flip through those lists—hoping not to see the name of someone you love. I didn’t find it, and I felt a little better. But this pain for the other comrades won’t let me find peace. Olenivka still hurts, and it will hurt for the rest of my life.”
Olga wasn’t able to find out about her husband until September 21, 2022, when a prisoner exchange took place and “Driver’s” best friend was released. The next piece of news came eight months later: on May 6, the comrade who had been in the same cell as Roman was exchanged. He’s alive—and that’s what matters most.
Accused of attempting to murder a civilian—Roman was “sentenced” to 13 years
On May 23, a video of Roman Kharchenko’s interrogation appeared on Russian social media pages. Olga was finally able to hear her husband’s voice. Thin, but unbroken. He held his ground bravely during interrogations by the enemy. During the interrogation, he was forced to admit guilt in the attempted murder of a civilian. The occupiers found the Azov soldier guilty, and a court in Donetsk sentenced him to 13 years behind bars.
“I was completely beside myself all day. The next day, I found the strength to post on social media about the verdict and the 13-year prison sentence. I know that our Azov fighters are doing everything they can to free all their comrades. Unfortunately, not everything depends solely on our country. But I still believe that very soon, my sons and I will hear that long-awaited call from our dad. And we’ll rush right away to our beloved and one and only, no matter where he’s taken after the exchange. Even to the ends of the earth. We’ll embrace him and never let him go, not even for a minute. We love him endlessly. We miss him. And we’re waiting.”
This is an automatic translation generated by DeepL.
