© 2025 Connecticut Public

FCC Public Inspection Files:
WEDH · WEDN · WEDW · WEDY
WECS · WEDW-FM · WNPR · WPKT · WRLI-FM · WVOF
Public Files Contact · ATSC 3.0 FAQ
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

These Ukrainian women survived a massacre. Now, they're shooting down Russian drones

MARY LOUISE KELLY, HOST:

After nearly three years of Russia's war on Ukraine, trauma and grief run deep, especially in the suburbs of Kyiv, where Russian troops massacred civilians in the city of Bucha. A group of women who survived found a way to cope by training to shoot down Russian drones. And a warning before we start, this piece includes mentions of suicide and sexual assault, descriptions of wartime violence and the sounds of gunshots. NPR's Joanna Kakissis has the story.

JOANNA KAKISSIS, BYLINE: In a cold forest outside Kyiv, the suburban moms in army green fatigues assemble their rifles. Valentina trained as a veterinarian. Inna is a math teacher. Tetiana used to be a water inspector. The group also includes a real estate agent, a nanny, a doctor and a pastry chef.

(SOUNDBITE OF GUNSHOT)

KAKISSIS: They shoot at targets in a muddy range. Valentina grins after she nails her shot.

(SOUNDBITE OF GUNSHOT)

VALENTINA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: "We call ourselves the Combat Witches of Bucha," she says. "The name comes from a badge one of us had showing a witch with weapons."

VALENTINA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: "The name doesn't matter that much," she says. "What matters more is belonging to this team, and that we are together."

UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #1: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: The Witches are a female volunteer air defense unit trained to shoot down drones in the suburbs of Kyiv.

UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #2: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: NPR is not disclosing the women's last names at the request of the Ukrainian military. The women all come from the Kyiv suburbs where Russian forces killed and tortured residents early in the 2022 invasion. Valentina and her best friend, Inna, are from a village near the city of Bucha. At a cafe in the city, the two sit side by side. Valentina says they met 11 years ago when their youngest children became friends in kindergarten.

VALENTINA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: She says, "our kids hung out. We talked, and soon, we realized we are cut from the same cloth." When Russian troops occupied the city at the end of February 2022, Valentina and her son crowded into a basement with neighbors.

INNA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: Inna says her family drove to another village, holing up in a tiny old hut owned by her grandparents. It had firewood, a cellar and potatoes. In a cafe in another Kyiv suburb, Tetiana recalls her experience during the occupation - how hurriedly she packed a suitcase for herself and her two daughters, how her husband, who had joined the military, rushed to embrace her and their girls one last time.

TETIANA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: She says, "my husband told me, my task is to save our city. Yours is to save our children." A friend took Tetiana and the girls to Spain. Walking along the seaside, Tetiana felt a cold emptiness in her heart.

TETIANA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: "My husband had not called when he was supposed to," she says. "And then, at 3:30 that morning, someone called me and told me he was dead." She asks me to shut off the recorder as her eyes fill with tears. "I'm a soldier," she says, "and soldiers aren't supposed to cry."

The occupation lasted a week. Valentina huddled in the basement. She heard women considering unimaginable choices like killing themselves and their own children to avoid being raped and tortured by Russian troops. Valentina sent a message to Inna.

INNA: (Non-English language spoken) Ina.

KAKISSIS: "She told me, if anything happens to me, please take care of my son." Valentina and her family survived the siege. When she and Inna reunited, they burst into tears. Tetiana returned to Ukraine and volunteered to transport supplies to the front line in honor of her husband, but her emotions were raw.

TETIANA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: "I was going through a very tough time, and honestly, I don't want to talk about it now because I will cry," she says, "and you won't be able to calm me down." Meanwhile, over the last year, Russian drone attacks on Ukraine have increased. While scrolling on her phone last summer, Tetiana saw an announcement about a volunteer unit called the Witches of Bucha that shoots down these drones.

TETIANA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: "And I immediately dialed the number," she says. "I got an interview and then the job." Valentina and Inna saw it, too, and signed up together.

VALENTINA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: "We were just sitting and crying at home, and that's no good," Valentina says. "And now we've got skills. We know how to hold a gun, how to shoot a gun. Maybe we don't know how to kill the enemy, but that's coming up next."

VALENTINA: (Laughter).

KAKISSIS: The Witches of Bucha are all close friends now. They call or text each other every day. They meet for coffee, go on vacation together.

VALENTINA: It's going to be explosions.

(SOUNDBITE OF EXPLOSION)

KAKISSIS: And every week, they're back in the forest outside Kyiv, practicing their drills and patrolling for drones at night. A training drone flies overhead, over trenches and burnt vehicles, remnants of the Russian occupation.

(SOUNDBITE OF ENGINE RUNNING)

KAKISSIS: The women jump into a truck outfitted with a recoil-operated machine gun called the Maxim, the first fully automatic machine gun in the world. A male soldier helps them practice putting it together. Tetiana says they have not yet shot down any Russian drones.

TETIANA: (Non-English language spoken).

KAKISSIS: "We haven't had the chance yet," she says. "They don't fly over here. We can see them, but they're not in our sector." Taking down drones, she says, is not the only goal for the Witches of Bucha. More importantly, she says, they are taking care of each other, no longer victims but soldiers.

(LAUGHTER)

KAKISSIS: Joanna Kakissis, NPR News, Bucha, Ukraine. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

Joanna Kakissis is a foreign correspondent based in Kyiv, Ukraine, where she reports poignant stories of a conflict that has upended millions of lives, affected global energy and food supplies and pitted NATO against Russia.

Stand up for civility

This news story is funded in large part by Connecticut Public’s Members — listeners, viewers, and readers like you who value fact-based journalism and trustworthy information.

We hope their support inspires you to donate so that we can continue telling stories that inform, educate, and inspire you and your neighbors. As a community-supported public media service, Connecticut Public has relied on donor support for more than 50 years.

Your donation today will allow us to continue this work on your behalf. Give today at any amount and join the 50,000 members who are building a better—and more civil—Connecticut to live, work, and play.