In the evening, I learned about a seriously wounded man who couldn't be carried away. He had been lying there for a long time, waiting for help, while an enemy drone hovered above him, watching for an evacuation team. But the company commander seized the moment and risked his life to go get him. And they did it - they brought him to the nearest shelter.

Late at night, I went there, hoping I could still help. Several hours of struggle, five or six failed attempts to insert an IV - no more veins left... One last time, by some miracle, I found a vein. We started injecting solutions, his blood pressure rose, a few more injections, and finally - we exhaled. He was stable.

The evac team arrived, we loaded him into the vehicle, and I said: "That's it, boy, hold on. It's over now. The doctors are waiting for you. Just a little longer, and everything will be fine."

They drove away. I sat down, and at that very moment, my combat medic took this photo. A second later, we heard a powerful explosion. Then-silence. Our evacuation team never made contact again. Russians were waiting for them.

Everyone was killed.

When I joined the army, many people asked me: "Are you going to avenge your husband? Do you want blood?" And I always answered: "I'm not here to kill. I'm here to save lives - so that no one else, like my husband, is left without medical care on the battlefield."

They also asked if I would treat prisoners. My answer was always yes. It was my duty.

Not anymore.

I don't want to save anymore. I want to kill. And I want to see them die. I want to see their mothers and wives screaming over their graves.

I will not help any prisoner.

I don't care about your humanity, your rules of war, your conventions.

Damn you, russians.

You, your children, and your grandchildren - for all the grief you have brought to our land.

Author: Combat Medic Nadiya Bila, Ukraine.

They kicked out the tartars and replaced them with millions of Russians