On March 6, 2026, freed prisoners of war were enthusiastically greeted by the population in the Chernihiv region of Ukraine.Image: AFP
The released Ukrainian prisoners are welcomed into the country by a network of volunteers who line the streets to show their gratitude. An emotional moment for those men who were sometimes held for years and tortured by the Russians.
March 23, 2026, 10:35 p.mMarch 23, 2026, 10:35 p.m
Daria ANDRIIEVSKA / AFP
Young and old, friends, families with children – in the north of Ukraine everyone stands on the side of the road with flags in the blue and yellow national colors to greet those Ukrainian soldiers who have just been freed from Russian captivity.
On March 6, 2026, freed Ukrainian prisoners of war arrive in the Chernihiv region.Image: AFP
Laryssa Gladka has been part of this moving ritual for two years. The 50-year-old municipal official – elegantly dressed, with flags ready in the trunk – has four friends who are ready at any time. “When the news comes that the ambulances are on the way with those returning home, we immediately jump into the cars,” she says. Her husband died in the war, her son is still fighting at the front.
The prisoner exchange takes place on the Belarusian border, dozens of kilometers away. While they wait for the convoy, Laryssa stops her car on a hill above the road to get a better view of the distance. The friends take out the flags and search the horizon with binoculars.
Elsewhere, hundreds of compatriots are doing the same. Regardless of the time and the weather, as soon as the convoy’s arrival is announced, they take to the streets, in groups, with their families or alone. The towns that are closer to the border inform the others in a private Telegram group: the exchange is complete. The first ambulances left. They drove through this and the next village.
Lots of emotions
Then there it is, the longed-for convoy: buses surrounded by police cars with wailing sirens and flashing lights. For a short, intense moment the joy explodes. Flags are waved, hands are raised, faces are beaming. And here and there tears of relief flow. Laryssa says quietly:
“We laugh, we cry, we tremble inside when we see these looks that are sad and happy at the same time.”
The vehicles respond by honking without stopping. Sitting inside are soldiers with emaciated faces whose heads were shaved in Russian captivity – and they too are deeply touched. «It feels like a second birth. There are no words for this. “You get goosebumps and tears well up in your eyes,” says Iaroslav Roumiantsev. He was released in 2025 after 39 months in captivity. The 30-year-old says:
«There were young girls who smiled and waved at us and bowed. And I also stood up and bowed. You could see me through the windshield.”
Many can hardly believe their eyes – after months or years of isolation in captivity, which was often characterized by mistreatment or even torture. “The men are surprised to be received like this,” says Andrii, 53, one of the drivers transporting the liberated soldiers. “In Russia they always just said: ‘No one is waiting for you here.’”
Since the Russian attack on Ukraine in 2022 – the bloodiest conflict in Europe since the Second World War – Ukraine has brought home over 8,000 prisoners of war and almost 17,750 remains, according to official figures. A number that shows the extent of the war and the efforts for return and dignity.
How long are they going to keep this up?
These prisoner exchanges – the last one in early March saw 500 prisoners released on each side – are one of the few areas where the warring parties are still working together. What began as a small initiative of five or six people is now a well-organized network: coordinated online, it stretches dozens of kilometers along the border and shows how much Ukrainians stick together.
Anatoly Devytskyj has been available for every exchange for over a year – he has not been missing once. “It was freezing cold in winter. Nevertheless, we just stayed there and waited,” says the 50-year-old. For Anna Kondratenko it is clear: “It is not an obligation – it is our responsibility.” The 33-year-old municipal employee sees one thing above all: a sign of gratitude. «We want to thank the guys who protect us. And show them that we are waiting for them.” Her own brother-in-law was imprisoned for two years.
How long will she and the others be willing to carry on while the war that has already left hundreds of thousands dead shows no signs of abating? Anna is clear:
«Until the very end. We won’t stop until everyone is back – we’re waiting for each and every one of them.”
Anatoly Devytskyj becomes even clearer: “Only when the last Russian is defeated and peace reigns again will it be over.”