Oleh was a man of quiet strength, never loud but always steady. When the war began, he didn’t hesitate. He kissed our daughter Sofiia on the forehead, held me close, and said, "Protecting you both is the only fight that matters." He volunteered before they could even ask.

He didn’t make it home. But he died the way he lived with courage, with honour, and with love in his heart. His last words to his comrade were about Sofiia and me. That’s the kind of man he was.


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