Her husband gave her a warning before he went back to the front: "Don't panic if you don't hear any news, the connection is often poor." That evening in late July 2022, 41-year-old Iryna Bondarenko tried not to panic when she couldn't reach him. The next day, two men in military uniform showed up at her home in Odesa, in southern Ukraine, saying "Open the door, we need to talk." "Why?" the mother asked. The visitors pulled out a small piece of paper with an official stamp and read it aloud to her: "It pains us to inform you, with this document, that Volodymyr Bondarenko died in combat on July 31, 2022, near the town of Mykolaiv. This document will enable you to begin the process of obtaining a pension and the benefits provided by Ukrainian law." Physically overwhelmed, the soldier's wife passed out.

Since the start of the Russian invasion on February 24, 2022, more than 70,000 Ukrainian servicemen have been killed at the front, according to US estimates – Ukraine does not disclose the death toll. Many have left behind wives and children. Bondarenko is one of the thousands of women who found themselves widowed overnight. Two years after the start of the large-scale Russian offensive, they form an invisible people, whose mourning is compounded by a succession of obstacles.

Their ordeal begins with the announcement of death and continues with the ordeal of identifying the body – provided that the soldier has not been reported missing. In Odesa, around 20 women demonstrate every week to remind people that they are waiting for news of their husbands, missing since March and May 2022, when two military boats were hit by Russian missiles. "The authorities have forgotten about them, and the majority of people don't even know this problem exists," lamented Yuriy Timenko, 37, a poster with photos of the missing in her hands. "We want them to help us find them," continued Timenko, who has had no news of her partner for over a year and a half. They're all clinging to the hope that they were taken as prisoners of war.

Bondarenko's husband was found. His wife went to the morgue to identify him. The officers presented her with the remains of the man she had loved for 18 years, a "wonderful husband, very humane, calm, with a sense of humor." A missile had struck Volodymyr during a meeting with senior commanders of his brigade. "His body was destroyed. He had a big hole in his head," recalled Bondarenko.

In the bedroom, a large portrait of her husband in uniform hangs over the ironing board. Another rests on the bedside table. "I say good morning to him every morning," said Bondarenko. "When our daughter, who's a student, has exams, I ask him to support us." Returned after his death, her husband's military jacket still hangs on the coat rack in the entrance hall. "I don't have the strength to take it off. And I feel it's protecting us."

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