Natalie’s brother went missing within a year of signing up. She still doesn’t know where he is

October 6, 2026 — 11:30amThe tunnel to the Kyiv Metro is busy with pedestrians when Natalie Kolodko stops next to a curved wall to hold up a framed photograph of her older brother.The picture shows a bearded soldier in army fatigues with the intense look of a warrior ready for battle.Kolodko, 30, is here at a weekly gathering to honour soldiers who are imprisoned in Russia or missing after combat, and support their family and friends.“We are standing to remind everyone that this is not just a war when you go into the shelter during the night because Kyiv, or any other city, is under attack,” she tells me.“There are guys who are dying at the front line, and if you will not support them, you have no idea what Russia will do in the next couple of years and where the front line will be.”It is early evening on a recent Sunday night and the group has decided to hold this week’s rally at the bottom of the long escalators down to the metro station near Independence Square, known as Maidan Nezalezhnosti. The friends and families of the soldiers would normally gather in the open air, choosing a different park or plaza each week, but the air war over Kyiv has intensified dramatically.Most members of the group are mothers, sisters and wives of those who are missing or in prison, but not all the missing are men. Thousands of women serve in combat roles, and women now make up about 10 per cent of the Armed Forces of Ukraine.A few of the families have heard from the soldiers, thanks to sporadic letters that are vetted by the Russians before they are sent, but nobody can rely on these messages to be sure family members are alive and well.Kolodko’s brother, Andriy, went missing after serving in the Donbas region in the east. She does not know where he is.“He was a big figure in my life, and he still is,” she says. Andriy was born in 1993, two years before Natalie. They come from a big family with two grandmothers and several aunts, as well as their parents and a younger sister.Natalie Kolodko, holding a photograph of her brother, Andriy, during a gathering in the Kyiv metro last month for the families of Ukrainian soldiers who are missing or held captive in Russia.David CroweAndriy worked in a pharmacy and appeared set for a career in health and biology, or perhaps technology. Early in 2024, however, with Ukraine turning to its young people to expand its army and stop Russian forces in the east, he chose to sign up of his own accord.At first, he was based in air defence at a military base where he supported crews intercepting drones. This changed when the army needed more recruits for its brigades in the east. Andriy was sent to the Donbas, the scene of gruelling combat along a “kill zone” patrolled by drones from both sides.He went missing within a year of signing up. “Something very, very opposite to justice happened,” Kolodko says. She does not want to talk about his brigade or the specific events around his service in the east.Other members of the group hold up their photographs and signs as Kolodko speaks. Air rushes through the metro tunnel as a train arrives.Kolodko’s brother, Andriy, went missing after serving in the Donbas region in the east.Lynsey Addario/The New York TimesThe weekly gatherings began as rallies for the “Free Azov” group that has met for years to remember the soldiers captured by Russian forces after the siege of the Azovstal Iron and Steel Works in the city of Mariupol in the months after the full-scale invasion of February 2022.More than 600 of the Azov defenders remain in Russian prisons, singled out for harsher treatment because of their defence in the siege. One commander, Colonel Bohdan Hrishenkov, said last month that 270 of the prisoners were convicted of terrorism on fabricated charges.The Sunday rallies broadened over time to include families of other soldiers who are missing or in prison.It is important for Kolodko to see her friends each week at these meetings, where they share their feelings about the missing family members.“People who aren’t affected by this war, they do not understand us,” she says. Simply being understood by others who have the same experience makes a difference, she adds.Nobody can be sure about the number missing in the war. About 275,000 people have been reported missing, says the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC). It said last month it received about 10,000 new tracing requests each month, but it does not break this down between Ukrainian and Russian forces.In a sign of the extreme conditions at the front and the nature of the losses from drone attacks and artillery fire, the Ukrainian government said last week it was yet to identify 26,000 repatriated bodies and remains.The head of the presidential office, Kyrylo Budanov, said on Friday that a new group would be set up to use forensic science to speed up the identifications.“Every fallen hero will be found and honoured with dignity,” Budanov said.Kolodko has produced a YouTube documentary, Mother, Bride, Sister, to highlight the impact on families.“It is very important to not stay silent. We are not here to demand something from government, like stopping the war. That’s not the point,” she says.“Our point is we are here to show that we remember, we honour, we are thankful for the great thing our troops are doing for us, or did for our country.“They literally saved us. Many good friends of mine are still in captivity, are still missing.“I want the world to see the true price of freedom, not only in Ukraine but in the whole world. This is the price we are paying, and we are thankful for any support.”Get a note directly from our foreign correspondents on what’s making headlines around the world. Sign up for our weekly What in the World newsletter.From our partners