“Le sue cose sono ancora nell’armadio. Non ho lavato la sua uniforme perché odora come lui” dice la madre di un soldato caduto 💔

“His things are still in the closet. I haven’t washed his uniform because it smells like him,” his mother says. “His fleece jacket is still there. They gave him a new one, so he left this one behind—the one he wore at the Belarusian border.”

Before heading to Donbas, Oleh spent a few days at home. His final embrace with his parents before leaving would be his last.

“When he was about to leave, I sat with him on the couch for half an hour, hugging him. I begged him: ‘Olezhyk, come back home soon. We love you so much, we miss you.’ He only said one thing: ‘The most important thing is to come back alive,'” his mom recalls.

Oleh Syrovatko was 42 years old. A native of Lutsk, he built a house but never had the chance to start a family.

“He always supported us, his parents. And here, in this house, everything reminds me of him. His hands built so much, but he never had the chance to truly live in it.”

Before the full-scale invasion, Oleh worked at a factory in Lutsk. While serving in Donetsk Oblast, he was an assistant grenadier in a border service inspector unit.

**”We Asked Him to Hold On, but He Died in Our Arms”**

Oleh Syrovatko was killed by shrapnel from a drone strike. His unit was stationed at the Tsarska Okhota position in Avdiivka, his bother in arms, Serhii, recounts. Despite being gravely wounded, Oleh held his position, fought bravely, and took down enemies until the very end.

“When we entered, we didn’t even realize we were surrounded, that this would be a circular defense. Everything started raining down on us. We held the position for two days and three nights. At dawn, we were pulling out the wounded, including Oleh. We encouraged him, saying: ‘Hold on, friend, we’ll make it, we’ll all survive.’ But sadly, he died in our arms,” Serhii recalls.

Posthumously, Oleh Syrovatko was awarded the Order of Courage, 3rd Class.

“I don’t need a hero; I need my living, loving son. I didn’t get to see enough of him, talk to him enough. I had two sons—Yaroslav and Oleh. The war took the most precious thing from us—one of our sons, Oleh. Now I’m like a bird with one wing and a broken heart, just trying to survive in this world,” says Raisa Syrovatko.

“When Oleh would come home on leave, he never complained about how hard things were. He always said he was doing fine and even made plans for life after his service.”

[https://suspilne.media/lutsk/934323-formu-ne-prala-bo-im-pahne-spogadi-pro-zagiblogo-prikordonnika-z-lucka-olega-sirovatka/](https://suspilne.media/lutsk/934323-formu-ne-prala-bo-im-pahne-spogadi-pro-zagiblogo-prikordonnika-z-lucka-olega-sirovatka/)

RIP hero, I hope his mother can find peace with her boy’s sacrifice.

Slava Ukraini