Maksym O. Mushta

Maxim Mushta was born on July 22, 1989, in the village of Kovalivka. He grew up in a happy family alongside kind and loving parents — Oleksandr Mykolayovych and Olena Ivanivna. Maxim was a cheerful and lively boy. He attended the kindergarten "Dzyvonoсhok." All the staff at the kindergarten remember Maxim as always smiling and shy. He did not know how to offend his peers and was always obedient. He loved reciting poems, singing songs, drawing, and sculpting. "Children are very different from each other, they need attention and care. However, our Maxim was not like that… He was kind, well-mannered, decent, and sensitive," describes Maxim his classmate. This is how his parents raised him: to be smart, hardworking, and patient. He inherited his father's wisdom and his mother's kindness. He grew up to be a worthy son. In 1996, Maxim entered the 1st grade of Kovalivka Secondary School. Holding hands, his mother, father, and younger brother Roman hurried to the celebration. "In class, he was active, diligently completed his homework. Maxim was compassionate, kind, open, and independent. Responsible, calm, and always tidy. He took care of his belongings. He was friends with all his classmates. Maxim was attentive to girls and older people. For me, he was an example of an ideal student. He loved to cook, even baking Easter cakes," says Sofia, Maxim's classmate. "The heart aches with pain and breaks from injustice, grief, and misfortune. And the soul… The soul cannot come to terms with the terrible reality. It cannot believe that he is no longer among the living," begins her reminiscence about Maxim his first teacher Olena Valentynivna. "This pain mercilessly tore the hearts of his mother and father, left a terrible wound in the soul of his wife, deprived little son Dmytryk of parental love and care. A hot August day. It seemed that time had stopped, the world froze in mourning. Tears… tears… tears. Everyone cried. On this day, Kovalivka said goodbye to the glorious fellow villager Maxim Oleksandrovych Mushta. How terrifying and painfully hurtful it is to say goodbye to a close wonderful person who could have achieved so much in life, done, seen, and created. It is indescribably difficult to convey in words the feelings that overwhelmed me. Before my eyes appears the image of a slender blond boy, always smiling. Maxim grew up in a family that valued work, loved, respected, and supported each other. The children Maxim and Roman addressed their parents formally, as was traditionally done in Ukrainian families. From childhood, Maxim was taught to take responsibility for any work. Even in the 1st grade, he stood out for his diligence and attentiveness. His notebooks were the best, with neatly written letters, as if from a handwriting exercise. He tried to study well, to be the best to please and make his mother happy. After all, this was very important and valuable to him. Maxim loved to craft and make various products in labor lessons. His works were distinguished by originality and neatness. I remember how he rejoiced at winning a competition for his own creations when he made an aquarium with fish. And it was not because he wanted to win, but because this victory would make his mother happy. Even in elementary school, Maxim stood out for his great diligence and willingness to help. He was always calm, balanced, attentive to other children, sensitive, and not indifferent to others' troubles, ready to help at any time. His classmates loved and respected him because he never offended anyone; on the contrary, he tried to reconcile those who quarreled. Maxim was a very kind child. It was impossible not to love him. After all, he loved everyone. He always had a smile on his face, and his eyes shone with kindness and calmness." Such kind words about Maxim are recalled by his class teacher Maria Valentynivna. "I always have in my mind his white tuft and smiling face. He was a good child, never hurt a fly. He loved to communicate openly, looking his interlocutor straight in the eye. This trait attracted friends to him. He was cheerful, always the first in everything. After graduating from the 9th grade in 2005, Maxim entered the Vinnytsia Cooperative College. At 19, Maxim began military service immediately as a contractor in 2008, after graduating from the Vinnytsia College. He was the first in his class to get married. Maxim and his wife Olha had a son, Dmytryk. This was a great joy for the whole family. Little Dmytryk brought joy to his grandmother and grandfather, and younger brother Roman. On July 22, 2014, Maxim celebrated his 25th birthday. Happy children, happy parents. But the dark wing of the war ongoing in the East touched this family. Senior instructor-machine gunner of the BTR company of operational assignment on armored personnel carriers of the special unit "Jaguar" of the National Guard of Ukraine (military unit 3028, Kalynivka), senior sergeant of military service under contract Maxim Mushta was killed in battle. Silent and conscientious, Maxim always approached his service tasks with great responsibility, as noted by the company commander Andriy Volk and the unit commander Ivan Myropolskyi. On August 17, 2014, during the liberation of the city of Yasynuvata in the Donetsk region from terrorists, the guards came under rocket and artillery fire. A shell pierced the armor of the BTR, and Maxim died from his injuries. The crew of the damaged BTR tried to revive their comrade, but the injuries were incompatible with life. Just the night before, Maxim called his parents, said that he was fine, and promised to call in the morning. And at 8:30 PM, he was gone. On August 20, Kovalivka said goodbye to Maxim Mushta. This was already the 34th loss of Vinnytsia in the war that the Russian state and the scum who betrayed our country are waging against us. According to the Cossack motto, there is nothing better than giving one's life for the Motherland. Heroes do not die! They say that God takes the best to Himself. Yes, our Maxim was the best. He was the best son, husband, friend, student, and person. Death mercilessly took him from us. Eternal memory to the Hero!