Reunited with our Ukrainian family after many decades apart

The unfolding Ukrainian crisis has brought us all together in an outpouring of heartbreak and support for the beleaguered but brave nation and its people in the face of unprecedented aggression.

This week, Tameside Radio presenter Ian Cheeseman shares the very personal and highly emotional story of his own family’s connections with Ukraine and how eventually they came to be reunited many decades after his own father-in-law came to settle in England after the Second World War. Now the family again pray for the safety of their relatives in unimaginable circumstances.

I met my wife in 1979. My father grew up in Radcliffe, her father grew up in a small village called Kupche in western Ukraine.

I didn’t know much about Ukraine, but the first thing I learnt was that the country is called Ukraine, not THE Ukraine. That’s how it was known when it was part of the Soviet Union.

My father-in-law’s journey to Oldham was more dramatic than I could imagine when I first introduced myself as Irene’s boyfriend.

He was a young married man when the Nazis and the Russians fought for control of western Ukraine, during the latter stages of the war. They both tried to make him fight for them. 

Andrij with Irene far right and holding her sister Andrea

He was forcibly taken away from his family, at gunpoint, and attempted to make him join their invading army. Along with many local men they were unarmed and couldn’t fight back.

Suddenly he had the chance to escape, but when he tried to return to his family he was cornered by a Russian soldier in a field, near his home. He had a rifle aimed at him. They stared at each other but the Russian didn’t pull the trigger. 

Andrij ran back away from his village, scared for his family, leaving his pregnant wife and brothers and sisters behind. If he’d tried to return home he’d have been killed. In fact, some of his friends and neighbours were killed.

Eventually, many borders later, he was taken in as a refugee by a farmer in Austria. He was resettled to Plymouth, in an army style barracks, with many fellow Ukrainians. 

They vowed to return home, but didn’t know if they would ever be able to or what had happened to their families. 

He and his friends were eventually transferred to Oldham where it became obvious, quite quickly, that he would have to start a new life.

Marching through Oldham in traditional dress

When he met my mother-in-law, the mill worker Gerti, he couldn’t admit he had a family back home. He feared for their safety if it became known that he’d survived.

He married Gerti and they had two daughters, the older one being my wife Irene. I got to know Andrij as a handsome, quiet and proud man who went on to love his grandchildren. 

He was a proud Ukrainian, an active member of the club in Oldham. He’d meet up with fellow Ukrainians in Leicester every year. He spent hours making Pierogi (Ukrainian potato and cheese dumplings) which we loved. 

Gerti always suspected Andrij had a family back home but didn’t know for sure, right up to the day she died.

Andrij with his grandsons (Ian’s sons) Daniel and Steven 

Soon after Ukraine won back its independence from Russia in 1991, Andrij was able to travel back to his country, with his brother Yevhen, who he’d found living in Kidderminster after 40 years apart. They were reunited with their family. 

He discovered that his pregnant wife had been taken to Siberia as punishment when they couldn’t find him. She spent many years there, in harsh conditions, with their daughter, Sofia.

Many years later they returned home to Kupche. When Andrij returned from his trip home, in the early 1990s, he continued to keep his past secret because he feared rejection if the truth became known; he was embarrassed. 

When he showed the family photographs he’d taken in Ukraine, he pretended he couldn’t remember who they all were, even though he was sat next to his daughter on several pictures.

In the early 2000s he became seriously ill and he finally told my wife the truth. He told her he thought he’d be rejected by us all, once the truth was known. It was of course exactly the opposite. 

Now we knew his story we were even more proud of him. All he’d wanted to do was protect the people he loved.

After he passed, we visited his home in Kupche and my Irene met her sister Sofia. There was an instant bond despite the fact that they could only speak to each other through an interpreter. We were welcomed into their home unconditionally.

Sisters Irene and Sofia stand in the doorstep in Kupche where their dad grew up

Close to the village was a derelict building where Sofia had worked as part of a soviet co-operative in the days after she returned from Siberia. 

My niece, Maria, was a fully qualified paramedic who worked in the hospital in the nearby town. Her income was a tiny fraction of what she would earn here. 

Irene with her niece Maria

We stayed in the family home where we drank unpasteurised milk from their cow and washed in fresh water from their well. The years of Soviet oppression had left them financially impoverished but rich in generosity, love, ethics and morals.

One of my nephews took me to a football match in nearby Lviv. His boss had a clapped-out Lada with no seat belts, so it was an interesting journey. 

I treated them to VIP seats in the stadium at a total cost of £4.50. They were shocked that I paid so much and that they had VIP seats.

A year later we paid for Sofia and her daughter Maria to come over to us to see where their father/grandfather had lived. It was very emotional.

Irene with Sofia and Maria

I’m glad my father-in-law didn’t live to see this second Russian invasion of Ukraine. 

In his lifetime his country liberated and regained their freedom and sovereignty.

Seeing what is happening now would break his heart. It’s hard for us to keep in contact with the family in Ukraine, but our friend Sonja, who is part of the Ukrainian community in Oldham and Manchester, tries to help. 

I am not Ukrainian by blood, but I feel Ukrainian in my heart, through my father-in-law.

Before his funeral, I printed out the words from a song called ‘Anthem’ from the musical ‘Chess’.

Ironically they are sung by a defecting Russian in the show, but they represent Andrij, a proud Ukrainian, so perfectly and the words written by Sir Tim Rice speak for all of us who care.

“No man, no madness, though their sad power may prevail, can possess, conquer, my country’s heart, they rise to fail.

“She is eternal, long before nations’ lines were drawn. When no flags flew, when no armies stood, my land was born.

“And you ask me why I love her, through wars, death and despair? I cross over borders, but I’m still there now. Let man’s petty nations tear themselves apart. My land’s only borders lie around my heart.”

Tameside Radio presenter Ian Cheeseman