-They were here for three weeks.
Our hospital was at gunpoint.
We spent three weeks in the basement here,
sitting without water or food.
The patients were in the basement
because sirens were sounding and tanks were coming, booming.
So they started hiding everyone in the basement.
-They entered and lined us up, then addressed me in Russian,
"Who's the director here?"
I said, "I am."
All our poor guys were crying.
It was a horrible situation.
They searched the entire area.
They made the men undress waist up
to check for any tattoos.
There was smoke and fire all around us.
Everything was simply burning.
Then the electricity and heating got cut off.
It got colder and colder.
All the plants died.
It was extremely cold.
We were keeping our patients warm with anything we could.
There were bedridden patients,
nothing to wash them with,
nothing to cook for them with.
They all had chronic mental disorders
and they were all constantly hungry.
Since there was no water, some intestinal infection
started to spread, everyone had diarrhea.
I was starting to think
I was developing a mental disorder myself.
I told [the Russians],
"We have many children and bedridden patients.
I already have a mass grave here.
People are dying of cold.
Give us permission, we can't get evacuated.
You are not letting people come and evacuate us from here."
There was no agreement, they wouldn't allow it.
They were using us exclusively as a living shield.
You know, I didn't have time to cry,
and now it's all coming out.
Over the whole time, 35 people died,
twelve who had died here,
two who died during the evacuation
because the trip was so tough,
and the others died in other hospitals.
We had to bury five people at a time,
digging holes in freezing weather,
at least 1.2 meters deep,
so that all those packs of hungry dogs running around
wouldn't dig them out.
And I was thinking, "At least I buried them.
Our own bodies will end up dragged around by dogs,
before anyone arrives for us."
That was scary.
It's so hard to talk about it...
They still have this postwar idea
that they need to stock up on bread
and hide it next to their bed.
I just walk around taking it out and throwing it away
because it gets moldy.
This has remained.
They had nothing to smoke [during the occupation]
and they had no bread.
So now it's their main issue: smoking and bread.
They have it all now, but the problem is still there.
Perhaps God saved me, I don't know.
We are preparing bomb shelters.
We stock upon groceries and water.
We bring in diesel generators.
Of course, we are getting ready, one can't relax.
The war is not over yet.