"The Witches of Bucha": Night Shifts in the Forest, Then Heels and Off to Work

According to Andrii Verlatyi, chief of staff of the Bucha Volunteer Territorial Community, which includes the "Witches", the unit’s task is to protect Ukrainian airspace from Russian drones and missiles.?

Media have speculated that the name "Witches of Bucha" references the Ukrainian book "The Witch of Konotop" by Hryhorii Kvitka-Osnovianenko. However, Verlatyi offers a simpler explanation: "One of our girls wore a T-shirt with a naked chick on a broom during the first training. I said they’d be witches; she retorted with a joke. The media present picked up on it immediately, and the name stuck".

The women training today under the watchful eye of instructor Oleksii have recently joined the "Witches". Like the other volunteers, they had no prior military experience. In civilian life, which they return to after completing their training and mandatory 24-hour shifts, they are teachers, veterinarians, nail stylists, and entrepreneurs. They have no choice: no one pays them for serving in the ranks of the witches.?

I observe the "Witches". Brightly colored nails contrast with the black of well-worn iron, and lips highlighted with pink and red lipsticks stand out against khaki or camouflage clothing. Some women are very young, though it's hard not to notice that middle-aged and even older women predominate. None of them use their real names here – all have military pseudonyms.?

When asked about age restrictions, Verlatyi jokes that he doesn't accept centenarians but then seriously adds that the oldest "witch" is over seventy. "As long as health permits, you can give it a try", he says.?

During Saturday’s training, held among trenches created three years ago by the Russian army, the women are tasked with learning the basics: disassembling and assembling weapons, shooting at targets, running with military gear on their backs, and tactics.?

Some progress faster, others slower; instructor Oleksii closely observes everyone. He reprimands those trying to show off their ability to assemble an automatic rifle as much as those who struggle. "Slowly. No showing off and no shortcuts. Until you do it the right way, and at a consistent pace, you won't be shooting!" he thunders.?

Perhaps noticing my uncertain expression, Verlatyi explains that although the instructors’ tone is harsh, none doubt that women can be as effective defenders as men. Maybe even better, because – unlike men – they think about the consequences before making decisions and are always eager to develop.?

Kalypso, who leads the "Witches", says the same. A 32-year-old tall blonde in a camouflage uniform and dark glasses, with an electronic cigarette in hand, she hails from Bucha. Speaking to journalists, she is concise and curt – a manner she inherited from her family: her father and grandfather were military men who familiarized her with weapons from childhood, telling her she’d need it someday. They were right.?

She’s been fighting for Ukraine’s defense since the first days of the invasion. When Russian tanks reached the outskirts of Bucha, she left her job as a restaurant manager, took up arms, and, together with a group of local partisans, went into the forests of Bucha to track the occupiers.?

"Every person, regardless of gender, is capable of defending the homeland. Put on a uniform, take a weapon in hand, learn to use it – you’re a defender. It's better than standing by and watching. It’s the right thing to do," Kalypso explains.?

Her "Witches" seem to think the same. Most come from the Bucha area, a town near Kyiv that the world heard about in the spring of 2022. In the first weeks of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Russian soldiers committed war crimes there, killing, raping, and torturing civilians, as well as looting Ukrainian homes and apartments. According to official data, during the 33 days of Russian occupation, over 460 people died in Bucha alone, and about 1,200 in the entire Bucha district, mainly men. ?

Talking to the "Witches" about what motivated them to join the unit, I quickly realize that for many, these events were the decisive factor.?

Tajana is from Irpin and works in a "strategic industrial plant," the name of which she prefers not to mention. She is 42 years old, though before revealing this, she jokes that such information should be classified as a military secret for women.

She joined the "Witches" at the very beginning of the group’s formation, in the spring of last year. "I called immediately as soon as I saw the recruitment ad," she recalls. She admits that being part of the "Witches" not only gives her strength to fight depression but also helps her cope with grief. In early April 2022, her husband, Sania, was killed while defending Irpin alongside other residents, trying to stop the Russian advance.

Shortly after, on the front lines, Tajana lost her brother, nephew, and closest friend. Then her mother passed away – she simply couldn’t bear the pain. The Russians also took away her home; it didn’t survive the shelling.

"The Witches are my family now. I managed to evacuate my children from the country – they’re far away. The rest of my loved ones are gone. Here, everyone has been through something similar, and we support and understand each other," she says.

Serving in the "Witches" unit also gives Tajana a sense of agency – something many Ukrainians, living from one air raid alarm to the next, are now deprived of. "Every Shahed [drone] brings death, and every death destroys the lives of multiple people. I don’t want these drones bringing more pain to Ukraine. I’ve been through it, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone," she says gravely.

Then, with a sudden laugh, she adds that if someone had told her before the full-scale war that she would be running through the forests with a rifle, she would never have believed it. "I was such a girly girl! Always in dresses, high heels, full makeup – and now, suddenly, it’s uniforms, weapons, heavy boots, shooting down drones!" she says.

It’s not just that part that would have been hard for Tajana to believe. She never imagined that a war like this could happen in 21st-century Europe. "When I was little, my grandmother would always say that the most important thing in life was for there to be no war. Back then, I didn’t understand. Now I know – I’ll be telling my grandchildren the same thing," she says.

Verlatyi points out that the "Witches" not only protect the skies over Kyiv Oblast but are also engaged in anti-sabotage operations

Akuma talks about this as well. At first, she hesitates to agree to an interview – she’s just finished a 24-hour shift – but she quickly warms up to the conversation. "My role isn’t shooting. I’m in security. We deal with numerous sabotage attempts, carried out by all kinds of people – some are ideologically motivated, others are bribed or blackmailed by the Russians. We have lists of so-called ‘unreliable citizens’ – there are hundreds of them. We monitor them and do everything we can to prevent acts of sabotage," she explains.

"The worst part is that children are also being recruited. There was a case of a 14-year-old girl who sent someone intimate photos online. Later, they used those pictures against her, threatening to publish them unless she did what they wanted," Akuma says.

But it’s not just those who are blackmailed or threatened who agree to collaborate. Some do it because the Russians promise them positions after the war. "They’re offered jobs in a ‘new’ Ukrainian administration that’s supposedly going to be pro-Russian after the war. Some people actually believe these lies," my interviewee explains.

Before the war, she worked in the family business, helping her husband and raising their two small children. Now, she dedicates herself fully to the "Witches". She joined in the summer of last year. "I figured the best way to fight depression was to take action. I also realized that it actually calms me down – the more you know, the better you understand the situation, and the more peace of mind you have. It helped me overcome panic attacks," she says.

Even though she hasn’t suffered the same level of loss as Tajana, the war has still left deep scars on her and her family. "I’m from Bucha. I managed to get the children out – mine and my neighbors’. We left under fire. My husband refused to leave – he stayed behind. For days, I had no contact with him. I didn’t know if he was alive," she says, tears welling up in her eyes.

During the occupation of Bucha, Russian troops seized and then looted her home. "I won’t rest until this war ends with Ukraine’s victory. Those bastards have to answer for their crimes," she says firmly.

The "Witches" emphasize that they joined the unit to help ease the burden on the men fighting at the front. Cherry, a math teacher in her fifties, jokes that she and her friend enlisted because they figured, "Without women, this war isn’t going to end".

"The men went to the front, and we’re here. We can handle anything. A Ukrainian woman can do it all," she says with confidence.

She didn’t consult her family before making the decision. At first, she didn’t even admit she was learning to shoot or planning to get involved in military activities. "Back then, training was only on Saturdays, so it was easy to make up excuses – like I was just going on a trip with a friend. But later, once we were officially in, we started doing 24-hour shifts, and I had to tell the truth. They couldn’t believe it!" she says.

When I ask if she’s afraid for herself and her children – the youngest of whom is just twelve – she replies, "Of course I’m scared! But I was scared of giving birth, too, and yet I did it three times!"

These days, Cherry splits her time between home and her shifts with the "Witches", but up until May of last year, she was still working as a teacher. "Back then, I always had a dress, high heels, and makeup in my car. As soon as my night shift in the forest ended, I’d change in the car, put on some lipstick, and rush to class to teach the kids," she recalls.

Every woman in the unit insists they haven’t experienced any gender-based discrimination. I bring this up with their commander and ask what working with women in the military has taught him.

"Sometimes, women are even more motivated than men. More responsible," Verlatyi replies.

He also notes that while the unit now has access to more modern weaponry, at the beginning, the women were mostly using 7.62 mm Maxim machine guns.

"That takes serious strength. The ‘Maxim’ is a World War I-era weapon – each one weighs about 25 kilograms (55 pounds). And yet, even back then, our ‘Witches’ were effective", the commander says with pride. "They shot down six Shahed drones and two Geran drones. Believe me, that’s a major success, considering how outdated our weapons were. Now, with better arms, things will only improve."

"God forbid the Russians try to push in here again – it’ll be a disaster for them. Ukrainian women are fiercer than men," he concludes.

Translation: Patrycja Eiduka