GROZNY -- Hussein Khamidov could not believe his eyes. The names of his two sons stared out at him from the latest list of dead, recently handed him by his Russian counterparts at the Special Observer Commission.
A senior negotiator on the Chechen side for prisoner exchange, Khamidov already knew his sons were dead. He buried them himself in April near his home, and now the Russians were telling him in the latest list of victims unaccounted for that they were among some several hundred they had buried in mass graves in February.
Magomed, 18, and Said Emir, 21, left their home in northern Grozny to fetch water on Jan. 24. They never came back. Eyewitnesses told Khamidov they had been arrested by Russian soldiers.
Khamidov is demanding news from the Russians about 1,438 Chechens detained during the war and still missing. The Russian side has said it only holds 145 Chechens and has only come up with piecemeal lists of dead with inadequate and inaccurate information, Khamidov said.
The mistrust runs deep on the Russian side, too. The Chechens have only produced 14 Russian prisoners, although the Russian side and the Soldiers Mothers' Committee have 100 servicemen listed as missing in action.
But the Chechens say they do not know where the prisoners are. Hussein Iskhanov, adjutant to Chechen Chief of Staff Aslan Maskhadov, has been scouring the country for prisoners but said so far he has only found 14.
Following up information his Russian counterpart Colonel Vladimir Ivanov obtained of six Russian prisoners in Shatoi region, Iskhanov came back empty-handed. "His information was four months old. They were held there between January and April, but are no longer there," he said.
One of the six was Lieutenant Oleg Machalin, son of teacher Klavdia Machalina. She has been looking for him since simpler to deal with."
He spent more than two months searching for his sons when finally he was offered a clue.
Someone had found a slip of paper with Magomed's name and address on it in their courtyard on Mayakovsky Street in central Grozny. "I am a pilot. I prepared them for this. I made them always carry in every pocket a piece of paper with their name and address. I told them to throw it out on to the ground if anything happened. My younger son did."
In the courtyard, Khamid uncovered five bodies, among them his two sons. All the bodies showed signs of being beaten and had been shot, he said.
"When I saw my sons' names, I felt crushed that they are giving out any old rubbish," Khamidov said, hitting the typed list with the back of his hand. "They have not given us proper information of one single Chechen being held."
Some families, however, have been more fortunate.
The parents of three Russian soldiers have joined their sons in a kindergarten in the village of Chiri Yurt, where the Chechens began gathering their prisoners a few weeks ago.
They live all together in spacious, sunny rooms, sitting and sleeping on cotton mattresses on the floor.
Three Chechen fighters guard them in relaxed fashion in what is nominally a Russian-controlled village some 20 kilometers south of Grozny.
Two prisoners tinkered with the engine of a Russian jeep with a Chechen fighter in the yard while others chatted inside, their guard lying asleep by the window.
"So much for the security," laughed Ivanov, the Russian in charge of prisoner exchange, when he saw the prone Chechen. "So where is the television and video?" he cracked.
Sergei Ionov, 20, who had refused to be interviewed when first brought down from the mountains three weeks earlier, now looked happy and relaxed, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"I was scared then. The Chechens were handing us over and we did not know under what conditions," he said. One of three deserters in Chiri Yurt who said they did not want to go home, Ionov had spent nearly six months with the Chechens, converting to Islam and fighting alongside the fighters against the Russian forces.
"There was an order to kill everyone in the village, men, women and children. I wanted no part in it," he said, explaining his desertion.
The Chechens meanwhile have promised they will not hand him over by force, he said. "Now it is all clear, now it is fine."
A senior negotiator on the Chechen side for prisoner exchange, Khamidov already knew his sons were dead. He buried them himself in April near his home, and now the Russians were telling him in the latest list of victims unaccounted for that they were among some several hundred they had buried in mass graves in February.
Magomed, 18, and Said Emir, 21, left their home in northern Grozny to fetch water on Jan. 24. They never came back. Eyewitnesses told Khamidov they had been arrested by Russian soldiers.
Khamidov is demanding news from the Russians about 1,438 Chechens detained during the war and still missing. The Russian side has said it only holds 145 Chechens and has only come up with piecemeal lists of dead with inadequate and inaccurate information, Khamidov said.
The mistrust runs deep on the Russian side, too. The Chechens have only produced 14 Russian prisoners, although the Russian side and the Soldiers Mothers' Committee have 100 servicemen listed as missing in action.
But the Chechens say they do not know where the prisoners are. Hussein Iskhanov, adjutant to Chechen Chief of Staff Aslan Maskhadov, has been scouring the country for prisoners but said so far he has only found 14.
Following up information his Russian counterpart Colonel Vladimir Ivanov obtained of six Russian prisoners in Shatoi region, Iskhanov came back empty-handed. "His information was four months old. They were held there between January and April, but are no longer there," he said.
One of the six was Lieutenant Oleg Machalin, son of teacher Klavdia Machalina. She has been looking for him since simpler to deal with."
He spent more than two months searching for his sons when finally he was offered a clue.
Someone had found a slip of paper with Magomed's name and address on it in their courtyard on Mayakovsky Street in central Grozny. "I am a pilot. I prepared them for this. I made them always carry in every pocket a piece of paper with their name and address. I told them to throw it out on to the ground if anything happened. My younger son did."
In the courtyard, Khamid uncovered five bodies, among them his two sons. All the bodies showed signs of being beaten and had been shot, he said.
"When I saw my sons' names, I felt crushed that they are giving out any old rubbish," Khamidov said, hitting the typed list with the back of his hand. "They have not given us proper information of one single Chechen being held."
Some families, however, have been more fortunate.
The parents of three Russian soldiers have joined their sons in a kindergarten in the village of Chiri Yurt, where the Chechens began gathering their prisoners a few weeks ago.
They live all together in spacious, sunny rooms, sitting and sleeping on cotton mattresses on the floor.
Three Chechen fighters guard them in relaxed fashion in what is nominally a Russian-controlled village some 20 kilometers south of Grozny.
Two prisoners tinkered with the engine of a Russian jeep with a Chechen fighter in the yard while others chatted inside, their guard lying asleep by the window.
"So much for the security," laughed Ivanov, the Russian in charge of prisoner exchange, when he saw the prone Chechen. "So where is the television and video?" he cracked.
Sergei Ionov, 20, who had refused to be interviewed when first brought down from the mountains three weeks earlier, now looked happy and relaxed, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"I was scared then. The Chechens were handing us over and we did not know under what conditions," he said. One of three deserters in Chiri Yurt who said they did not want to go home, Ionov had spent nearly six months with the Chechens, converting to Islam and fighting alongside the fighters against the Russian forces.
"There was an order to kill everyone in the village, men, women and children. I wanted no part in it," he said, explaining his desertion.
The Chechens meanwhile have promised they will not hand him over by force, he said. "Now it is all clear, now it is fine."
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