BBC/James Cheyne Witches of Bucha - part of the voluntary formation of the Bucha territorial community - at their training centerBBC/James Cheyne

The Witches of Buchy are part of a volunteer defense unit composed almost entirely of women

When dusk falls over Bucza, the witches come out, because that’s when the Russian attack drones start to swarm.

The Bucha Witches, as they call themselves, are a volunteer air defense unit made up almost entirely of women that are currently helping to protect Ukraine’s skies as more and more men are sent to the front lines.

There are also more drones to shoot down, often launched from Russia in waves to defeat the main defense against a missile attack.

Night shifts allow women to combine work in defense of the country with everyday work as a teacher, doctor – there is even a manicurist.

Many say this is a way to overcome the powerlessness they felt when Russian forces occupied the Bucha region at the beginning of a full-scale invasion.

The horrors of those weeks – including killings, torture and kidnappings – only began to come to light after Ukrainian forces liberated the area in late March 2022.

Air raids and ancient weapons

“I am 51 years old, I weigh 100 kg, I cannot run. I thought they would send me packing, but they accepted me!” Valentyna recalls, a veterinarian who registered with a drone buster organization this summer and now uses the call sign Valkyrie.

She talks about friends sent to the front and others who died in combat, which brought her to this role.

BBC/James Cheyne Valentyna (call sign Valkyrie) in combat trainingBBC/James Cheyne

In the summer, 51-year-old Walentyna joined the unit

“I can do this job. The set is heavy, but we women can do it.

Valentina can demonstrate that a few hours later, an air alert is triggered throughout the region.

Her unit retreats from their base in the woods, and we follow their pickup truck through the darkness as it pulls up towards the middle of the field. A team of four jumps out and begins assembling weapons.

The machine guns are from a different era: two Maxims from 1939, ammunition boxes with red stars from the Soviet era.

Serhiy, the only man on the team, has to manually pour bottled water as coolant.

This is all that is available: Ukraine’s best equipment is on the front lines and is constantly asking its allies for more.

But the ancient weapons are impeccably preserved, and the Witches say they have shot down three drones since the summer.

BBC/James Cheyne The witches and a colleague assemble a machine gun during a night operationBBC/James Cheyne

The women – and their only colleague, Serhiy – operate a machine gun mounted on the back of a pickup truck

“My role is to listen to them,” explains Walentyna. “It’s hectic work. However, we must remain focused to (listen for) the slightest sound.

Her friend Inna is also around 50 years old and in one of her first positions.

“It’s terrifying, yes. But it’s the same with giving birth, and I still did it three times,” she laughs, telling me that her own call sign is Cherry: “Because of my car, not the tomatoes.”

As a math teacher, she sometimes has to rush out of the woods to attend classes.

“I keep my clothes in the car. My high heels. I put on lipstick, I give lessons. Then I get back in the car, make a quick change around the corner and off I go.”

“The guys are gone, but we are here. What can’t Ukrainian women do? We can do anything.

BBC/James Cheyne Inna (call sign Cherry)BBC/James Cheyne

“It’s terrible, it’s true. But also childbirth”: Inna serves on the team and works as a math teacher

Somewhere on the horizon, another group’s beam of light can be seen, scanning the sky for dangers above their own patrol zone.

There is no public data on the total number of volunteer units or the number of women involved. But because Russia sends drones filled with explosives almost every night, they help create an additional shield around major cities.

From the Witches’ position in the field, Julia tracks two drones on her tablet. They are over a neighboring region, so there is no immediate threat to Bucha, but the machine guns will remain in place until the alarm ends.

There are no more men

The volunteer commander is quite the bear, having just returned from Pokrovsk in eastern Donbas, where the fighting is the fiercest.

“There are fireworks all the time” – this is how Andrij Verlaty describes it with a smile.

He had about 200 men manning mobile air defense units in the Bucha area and patrolling during the night curfew, many of them unfit for full military service.

Then Ukraine revised its mobilization law, urgently needed more troops, and many of the colonel’s crew suddenly found themselves qualified for the front line.

BBC/James Cheyne Colonel Andriy Verlatyy, commander of the Bucha volunteer formationBBC/James Cheyne

Colonel Andrij Verlatyy claims that women in the armed forces did not enjoy much trust, but over time this changed

“About 90% of my people ended up in the army, and another 10% went into hiding, scattering like rats. There was almost no one,” says Colonel Verlaty bluntly. “Only men with no legs or half their skulls missing.”

He had a choice: fill these roles with men below mobilization age or recruit women.

“At first it was like a joke: ‘Let’s get the women!’ There was not much trust in them, in the armed forces. But it has really changed,” he says.

Taking back control

The witches spend their weekends on extensive military training. On the day of our visit, it is their first lesson in storming the building. They practice in the ruins of an outhouse on the farm, shoving rifles into empty doorways before carefully moving past.

Some manage to look more convincing than others, but the women’s commitment and focus are clear – because their reasons for doing so are deep and personal.

“I remember the occupation. I remember this horror. I remember the screams of my own child, Walentyna tells me through quiet sighs. “I remember the dead bodies when we were running away.”

Her family escaped from Bcha due to burnt tanks, dead soldiers and civilians. She says that at one Russian checkpoint, a soldier ordered them to roll down their car windows and then put a gun to her son’s head.

It is filled with silent rage.

That’s why Valentina continues to believe in Ukraine’s victory, despite the darkness that has enveloped most of her country after almost 1,000 days of full-scale war.

“Life has changed, all our plans have been destroyed. But I’m here to help hasten the end of this war. As our girls say, it won’t end without us.

BBC/James Cheyne Members of the military volunteer formation of the Bucha Territorial CommunityBBC/James Cheyne

Ukrainians are still determined to defeat the Russian invaders

Crunching over broken glass and debris in combat boots, rifle in hand, office manager Anya is another volunteer Witch. Now, at 52, she finds her military training empowering.

“Under the occupation, I felt the complete meaninglessness of my existence. I couldn’t help anyone or defend myself. I wanted to learn how to use weapons to be useful.

There is a lot of chatting with the coaches: the women are having fun. But later that night, at their base in the forest, one of them opens up even more and shares a chilling story.

When Bucha was taken over, Russian forces began going from house to house. They raped and murdered. One day, a rumor spread that the occupiers would come to kill the children.

“I will never forgive the Russians for the decision I made that day,” this woman confides.

I won’t reveal the details of what she told me – this extreme decision she made – except that the soldiers never came and she never had to act on it. But since then, this woman has been haunted by this moment and her guilt.

She felt relief for the first time as she began to learn to defend herself, her family, and her country.

“Coming here really helped,” he tells me quietly. “Because I will never sit like a victim and be so afraid again.”