Time to read: 7 minutes(s)

"Nothing was destroyed, no one was injured," official sources report. But where did the ten conscripts disappear to?

The explosion at a munitions depot in the Krasnogvardeisky district of annexed Crimea on July 22 of this year attracted little attention. Sergei Aksyonov, head of the Russian administration of Crimea, stated that a Ukrainian drone attack had caused a "detonation" at the depot, but that "preliminary reports indicate no damage or casualties."

True, people within a five-kilometer radius of the airbase in the village of Oktyabrsky were evacuated for some reason, and rail traffic was suspended. But the "detonation" wasn't the first or the last: three days earlier, an ammunition depot near Stary Krym had exploded, and two days later, in the Dzhankoy district. And if there's no destruction or casualties, there's nothing to talk about.

Those who filmed and posted online the aftermath of the “detonation” forced to apologize on camera - and the issue could be considered closed.

But a criminal case was opened under Part 2 of Article 105 of the Russian Criminal Code—which covers "the murder of two or more persons." Eighteen people are also missing, according to a NeMoskva journalist. told their relatives.

Ten of the missing are conscripts from different regions of Russia.

NeMoscow spoke with their relatives.

"My son stopped communicating on July 22nd. And on the evening of the 24th, they called from his unit, from Perevalnoye." (Military unit No. 12676. — Approx. Ed.). "They said a missile had hit the warehouse and Vanya was missing," says Svetlana Mamonova, mother of 18-year-old Ivan Mamonov from the Rostov region. "We went there; they were holding some kind of meeting. But they weren't happy to see us at all, practically saying, 'What are you doing here?' You've just showed up..."

According to Svetlana, since the end of July she has not received any information about her son from the command, despite “driving around and arguing.”

Having visited all the Crimean hospitals, Svetlana seemed to have found a clue: 

"In Simferopol, at the hospital, the woman who sees patients there recognized Vanya's photo—she said they brought someone just like him in. I've been there several times, and I guess I was lucky enough to get her to recognize him in the photo."

— Did you bring it?

"Well, I mean, they probably brought in a wounded man. But he's no longer there. And then—silence, no documents, nothing. He's not listed anywhere, that's all."

— But if a person was in the Simferopol hospital, they couldn’t just send him away without documents?

"I don't know. In principle, they could, because sometimes people come to them without memory, without documents..."

Svetlana wrote to the Burdenko Main Military Clinical Hospital, asking if anyone unknown had been admitted on such-and-such dates. Two weeks later, they replied, "Yes, he had." Two hospitals requested photographs. She sent them, but is still waiting for a response. 

— Did you contact anyone else?

— Yes, I contacted the president, the Moscow military prosecutor’s office, and the Crimean one.

To our military registration and enlistment office, where I was drafted. They said, "What does this have to do with us? We only issue summonses." They didn't say anything anywhere. "There's an investigation underway," and that's it. I filed a report with the Simferopol police, and they actually accepted it. I also filed a report with the police in the Krasnogvardeisky district, and they even gave me receipts. In Krasnogvardeisky, they told me that the Military Investigative Committee had already taken over the case. And they called from Simferopol recently: they just made inquiries in Perevalnoye. But the police aren't really aware of us; they just said that we don't have much contact with the military.

Svetlana has no official documents. She only knows that her son is missing from conversations with army commanders.

"My brother was also in a hot spot at one point, he's more experienced than I am—I didn't serve in the army, after all. He went to that meeting with me. And he asked them: who was with the guys at that moment? Well, some kind of commander, an officer, there had to be someone. They said yes, but they didn't give a name. And recently, our chieftain from the village gave us the phone number of a lieutenant who was supposedly there with them. My husband called him. And he told us that my Vanya and some other kid were standing there and just watching that missile fly at them. That only two of them disappeared because they didn't want to run away. I said, well, if he had been standing there like that—that's already a diagnosis; they wouldn't have drafted him into the army, right?"

"...Looking for my son: Musa Asanovich Seytumerov, born May 17.05.2004, 9. Military unit 12676, Crimea, 7th motorized rifle battalion on vehicles, 3rd company, 6th platoon. Conscript... He is considered missing after a missile landed on July 22nd at an ammunition depot in Crimea (along with nine other conscripts)..."

"...We are looking for Andrey Evgenievich Pastushenko, born November 9, 2001. Military unit 12676, Crimea, 6th motorized rifle battalion on vehicles, 3rd company, 6th platoon. Conscript..."

“I’m looking for a son: Minzyak Alexey Nikolaevich, born May 29, 2004. Military unit 12676...”

Three identical advertisements appeared in the VKontakte group “Military Hospital | ALL OVER RUSSIA” at the end of August – beginning of September (NeMoskva wrote about this HERE). All of them have a note at the end: presumed dead, but not officially confirmed yet, DNA was collected, we believe and hope he's alive, maybe seriously injured, memory loss...

DNA testing was required because body fragments were found at the site of the explosion—even though there remains no mention of "destruction or casualties." And documents obtained by relatives (available to the editorial staff) state that the conscripts, whose exact number is not disclosed, are listed as "missing."

The comments are filled with sympathy, speculation, and sharing of their own stories:

"Sorry, I think they died and the state isn't paying money. It's better to leave them missing."

"I have two brothers who disappeared there."

"It might take a long time to collect DNA. Our cousin's body was kept in Rostov-on-Don for a month; he died under mortar fire from the Airborne Forces—blue berets. They couldn't bring him from the hospital to St. Petersburg. Pushkin from Rostov—it's as if there was no transport."

And one of the first days of September, photographs of all three appeared on the Telegram channel "NE ZHDI me iz Ukrainy" (Don't Wait for Me from Ukraine), marked "Killed." And very soon, screenshots of these messages appeared in the "Military Hospital" group.

Relatives didn't believe it:

"I kindly request that you delete your comment! The group "Don't Wait for Me from Ukraine," which posts photos of prisoners and those killed on Ukrainian territory and copies data from our search posts, cannot possibly have information about guys located in the Russian Federation. The post states "Crimea." And the post was created with the goal of possibly finding some of these guys in Russian military hospitals (as the group's name suggests!) Whether they died or not can only be determined by a DNA match."

They continue to wait—for DNA tests, responses from the military prosecutor's office and the Ministry of Defense...

And Svetlana Mamonova is waiting for her paycheck: she wants to go to Moscow to demand an audience with Putin:

- Let him figure out where they put the child.