In a small reception room at a hospital in Dnipro, in south-central Ukraine, Viktoria Lants struggled to look at the computer screen as a forensic worker shuffled through photos of the remains catalogued in the overwhelmed morgue.
Some images were of badly damaged bodies, military clothing and a pocket knife.
When her family was led into a refrigerated unit to view one body, her eyes lingered on a wooden cross.
Lants's 31-year-old son, Vladyslav Kharkov, was given a similar one by his grandmother before he was sent to the front line over the summer.
The last time she spoke to him was on Aug. 19.
"He said everything will be fine, Mom. He knew how everyone was worried about him," she said, recalling their final phone conversation.
Kharkov, who previously worked as a contractor before b