Echoes of Service

Military life had defined Lidiia Hetmanska’s world long before the war. From Germany to Afghanistan, from Chornobyl to Bakhmut, her family’s story was etched with service and sacrifice.

Her husband’s journey was a testament to resilience. Service in Germany, battling typhus in Afghanistan, exposed to radiation in Chornobyl. Their son followed the same path, becoming a military medic. Lidiia managed a large school, their life a careful balance of duty and domestic routine.

2014 was their first warning. Slow rumbles of conflict that seemed distant, yet unmistakably approaching.

2022 shattered everything. A COVID infection, a hospital fall, an amputation. Her husband received first-group disability just as the war intensified. A missile struck their neighborhood, tearing off roofs, creating craters where homes once stood.

Volunteers from “White Angel” became their lifeline. A month in Kryvyi Rih. Then constant movement.

Bilhorodka offered temporary shelter — an expensive second-floor apartment that became increasingly unaffordable after her husband’s death.

Senior Chudo Village wasn’t just housing. It was unexpected grace.

She arrived crying, overwhelmed by beauty. Meticulously arranged plants. Thoughtfully designed pathways. Technology that felt like magic.

Her health told a story of endurance — kidney surgeries, removed gallbladder, pancreatic challenges. Yet her spirit remained unbroken.

To the younger generation, she offered wisdom carved from a lifetime of uncertainty: “Value every moment. Don’t postpone important things. Time is the most precious resource you cannot recover.”

To Dell Loy Hansen, she would offer more than gratitude. A recognition of humanity in inhumane times.

Her only plan: to see her son home safely.

In this village, Lidiia found more than shelter. She found a moment of peace after a lifetime of service.