"I don't know how anyone could have survived in that boarding house." What they say in a village in Kyiv Oblast where 37 people died

On the porch of the burnt-out two-story building without windows, which until yesterday was a private boarding house for the elderly called "Good Home," lie 20 black body bags. Around the road are scattered cartridges, pieces of warheads, torn electrical wires hang, and ash glitters in the air, smelling of burning.

As of 7:00 PM on August 29, 37 people died in the village of Mila, Bucha district, Kyiv Oblast. Most of them lived precisely in this boarding house for the elderly. Once, perhaps, it was quiet here — a pine forest nearby and quiet streets of the private sector. But "Good Home" was located across the road from warehouses where, in particular, ammunition was stored, which began to detonate on the evening of August 28 as a result of a Russian drone strike.

— "You're asking how many body bags there were?" clarifies a man in a white plastic protective suit. "We haven't removed anyone from here yet. There are still bodies inside, so in total there will be 31 here."

Павялічыць

No one can say how many of them were residents of the boarding house and how many were workers — neither the police working on site nor the funeral service employees collecting the remains. The bodies are too badly burned, explains a police officer on site. For a long time, they couldn't even get close to the boarding house due to the constant threat of shell detonation. Despite rescuers, medics, police, and sappers having worked for almost 24 hours, explosions are still heard from the opposite side of the street from the boarding house.

— "I don't know how anyone could have survived in that boarding house. There were bedridden people, elderly, and this house, you know, is just like an office building in structure. There was no basement, nothing," says Zhanna, wiping tears from her face. She is 52 years old and lived in the building opposite the boarding house. Zhanna stands by the entrance gate to her garage, waiting for the police to allow her to retrieve her husband's body.

Павялічыць

Vitaly was also 52 years old. His wife last spoke to him on August 28 at 8:51 PM. Vitaly told Zhanna that an unknown man, who was looking for shelter because strong explosions had begun, had asked to come into his house. As of 9:11 PM, Zhanna no longer had contact with her husband. The woman shows the geolocation of Vitaly's phone on her own — it was updated 20 hours ago.

— "I was on a business trip and missed getting home by about forty minutes. My husband was here during the occupation of Kyiv Oblast in 2022. He survived then, only for this to happen..." says Zhanna, covering her mouth with her hands, trying to hold back tears.

Zhanna waits for Vitaly's body and that of the unknown person lying nearby to be placed into black plastic bags. Men in protective suits carry them into the trunks of vans with a "Morgue" sign on the windshield. They will then wait for forensic experts to finish their work at the "Good Home" to retrieve bodies from there as well.

Павялічыць

Despite the fact that shells are still exploding at the warehouse, people are returning to their homes. They are searching for lost animals that fled in the chaos, trying to drive out cars with broken windows, and assessing the extent of damage to their homes, constantly asking if a commission has already passed to document the damage. Their hands are black with soot and embers; some are sorting belongings wearing respirators. There are people who simply couldn't leave in the evening and spent the entire night in the basements of their homes.

Maryna and Pavel were forced to go down to the basement by their nine-year-old son. He was very frightened after the first explosion of the downed "Shahed" drone. Maryna says they rarely go down to the basement, but her son insisted.

— "My child got scared," says Maryna. "He had brain surgery just three days ago. When we heard the Shahed descending, there was an explosion, we didn't know it would start detonating. He said, 'Let's go to the basement.' Then our acquaintance, a soldier, came from nearby Petrushky and picked us up. Now the child is under stress."

— "It started detonating at 8:30 PM," says Pavel. "Three hours felt like three days. Small explosions were constant. We had to come out of the basement and check if the house was on fire. Large explosions occurred every 10 minutes."

Павялічыць

Locals knew that ammunition was stored in warehouses in the village of Mila. People describe how military personnel periodically arrived at the warehouses in "large trucks, unloading and loading wooden crates." Speaking of what happened, locals recall Vishneve — another town in Kyiv Oblast, where on July 6, 2026, an "Ukroboronprom" ammunition depot detonated as a result of a Russian missile strike.

— "Can you write about this? Because I'll be honest — this is Vishneve 2.0!" exclaims Oleksandr, standing by the entrance to the yard of one of the most destroyed private homes in Mila. Oleksandr lives in a neighboring village but came to help his friend Ruslan clear the rubble.

Павялічыць

Павялічыць

Ruslan's building has neither windows nor doors. The second floor of the annex burned out, the sprawling grove in the backyard charred so much that the leaves curled up. Glass crunches underfoot, ammunition parts are still scattered on the ground, and a whole bucket of shells sits right in the garden.

Павялічыць

Павялічыць

— "It was a pleasant Friday evening, my family and I had barbecued, I was sitting on the terrace — right above my head they shoot down the first 'Shahed' drone," Ruslan recounts. "The second 'Shahed' sets the warehouse on fire, black smoke rises. I have three children, I tell them: 'Let's evacuate.' But no one wanted to, because it was hard to believe there would be such a nightmare as in Vishneve. When the first explosions started, we went into the house and couldn't get out, because shells were constantly whistling. It's a good thing we didn't go to the basement, because when the house caught fire from the shells, there was no other option but to run out and escape. Children ran on the asphalt, and ammunition fragments clattered near them."

Rescuers helped evacuate the children. Ruslan and his neighbor returned and spent the entire night in the basement of another building, hoping that Ruslan's house, which was closer to the warehouses, would survive and they could retrieve documents from there. But the only thing that more or less survived in Ruslan's house was an inverter that his family bought yesterday, preparing for winter.

— "My mother lives right here nearby. While I ran 30 meters to her, several fragments whistled past me," says Ruslan. "It was impossible to go outside. We crossed ourselves, believing in whatever we believe in, and somehow managed to run out. Truthfully, our arms and legs were cut either by glass or something else. Now all my loved ones are alive and well. Unfortunately, a tragedy occurred — the head of the community, Taras Didych, died. Everything detonated very unevenly; it was impossible to guess where something would land, what its trajectory would be. One shell hit his car. I knew him, he was a very good man."

Павялічыць

Many people came to Ruslan's building to help him clear the rubble and dig through the burnt remains. One of his friends, Viktoria, carries out a miraculously preserved painting from the house — a family portrait of Ruslan with his children.

— "Ruslan, where are you planning to spend the night today?" Viktoria asks him.

— "Oh, I'll find a place with neighbors somewhere. It'll work out, don't worry," says Ruslan, barely smiling, standing on the porch of his lost home.

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