 "Malaysia airlines tragedy: Fallen bodies, jet parts and a child's pink book")
Incongruously, given the plane fell from more than 30,000 ft, many of the bodies strewn in the smouldering wreckage of Malaysia Airlines Flight 17 were largely intact. A woman in a black sweater lay on her back, blood streaming from her face, her left arm raised as if signalling someone. Another victim, naked except for a black bra, lay on the field, her grey hair mixing with the green grass, a leg broken and her body torn.
Residents spoke of bodies falling from the sky, looking like rags or clumps of ash, before the plane came to a jolting rest in a large wheat field, dotted with purple flowers and Queen Anne's lace, having trailed debris over several miles of sparsely populated Ukrainian farmland.
"It was horrible," said a separatist rebel who was part of the rescue crew and who disclosed only his first name, Sergei. "We were in shock."
The road to the crash site in eastern Ukraine, not far from the Russian border, was lined with fire engines and other emergency vehicles. Separatist militiamen, plentiful in this rebel-controlled territory, urged journalists to take photographs. There were no houses in the immediate vicinity. The only visible structure was a poultry operation with long white coops in the distance.
Rescue workers had already tied small white strips of cloth to tree branches along the debris path to mark the locations of the bodies. As darkness descended on the field, workers gathered in throngs near a line of ambulances and rescue cars. Dogs barked in the distance, and the air smelt bitter.
Pieces of the plane were scattered across the road and field - a seat back with its television display cracked; a giant white piece of the tail with the plane's insignia emblazoned on it; and a jagged edge where it tore off from the plane. A televised image showed a travel guide for Bali, almost untouched. A strange detail marked what looked like part of a wing, a hole suggesting a burst of metal pushed outward. To an untrained eye, it was unclear whether the damage was due to ordnance or other, unknown forces on the way down.
Many of the victims were still wearing their seatbelts, attached to pieces of the plane. A man, still in his socks but without pants, lay in the field, his right arm placed on his stomach as if in repose. Others had personal belongings nearby. A young man in blue shorts, wearing red Nike sneakers but no pants, lay with his arms and legs splayed outward, an iPhone by his side.
Dutch belongings were scattered through the grass: a child's pink book; a parking ticket picked up by a man named Hans van den Hende; and a book of stickers. Children's playing cards were sprinkled near the road.
Mundane items of daily life covered the grass. Toiletries spilled out of overnight bags: Nivea cream: a razor; a glass bottle of cologne. A maxi pad lay in the grass. A soft blue fuzzy blanket spilling from a red suitcase was caught on a sharp metal pole. A bicycle lay in the grass, practically intact.
The area was also covered in feathers from brown chickens. There were two parrots, one of them lifting its wing as if waving, and a peacock.
The village closest to the site is Grabovo, a small coal-mining town whose residents had been among the first to see the plane. Oleg Georgievich, 40, a miner fighting with the insurgency here, said he had heard noises shortly after 4 pm and thought the town was being bombed. Aircraft had been flying over daily, he said, adding these had bombed neighbouring villages on a number of occasions.
Hearing a whistle-like sound, he walked onto his balcony on the fifth floor and saw something falling from the sky. Later, he understood it was part of the plane's fuselage. Subsequently, he saw things that looked like pieces of cloth coming fast toward the earth. They were bodies, many with their clothes torn off.
Rescue workers said they counted many children. A boy who seemed to be around 10 lay on his side in the grass in a red T-shirt that read "Don't Panic".
A rescue worker staffing a white table, who gave only his first name, Alexei, said the area of the crash was 10-15 sq km, four-six sq miles, in a rectangle he had cross-hatched in red on a map.
He said parts of the plane were scattered through the entire area and that the pilot had not tried to land on the field; the plane appeared to have been torn apart in the sky. "It fell down in pieces," he said.
Rescue workers, numbering about 60, were setting up tents to gather the dead, he added.
Georgievich, the coal miner, said he was afraid of what the tragedy would bring. Ukraine has been accusing Russia and the rebels of shooting down its planes, he said, adding he didn't think this situation would be any different. "Tomorrow, the Ukrainians are going to say I shot this plane down with my gun," he said, standing in the darkness. "Look at me. I'm in sneakers; I have no flak jacket. You want to know what year it was made?" he asked a journalist. The date stamped on the gun was 1953.
Residents spoke of bodies falling from the sky, looking like rags or clumps of ash, before the plane came to a jolting rest in a large wheat field, dotted with purple flowers and Queen Anne's lace, having trailed debris over several miles of sparsely populated Ukrainian farmland.
"It was horrible," said a separatist rebel who was part of the rescue crew and who disclosed only his first name, Sergei. "We were in shock."
The road to the crash site in eastern Ukraine, not far from the Russian border, was lined with fire engines and other emergency vehicles. Separatist militiamen, plentiful in this rebel-controlled territory, urged journalists to take photographs. There were no houses in the immediate vicinity. The only visible structure was a poultry operation with long white coops in the distance.
Rescue workers had already tied small white strips of cloth to tree branches along the debris path to mark the locations of the bodies. As darkness descended on the field, workers gathered in throngs near a line of ambulances and rescue cars. Dogs barked in the distance, and the air smelt bitter.
Pieces of the plane were scattered across the road and field - a seat back with its television display cracked; a giant white piece of the tail with the plane's insignia emblazoned on it; and a jagged edge where it tore off from the plane. A televised image showed a travel guide for Bali, almost untouched. A strange detail marked what looked like part of a wing, a hole suggesting a burst of metal pushed outward. To an untrained eye, it was unclear whether the damage was due to ordnance or other, unknown forces on the way down.
Many of the victims were still wearing their seatbelts, attached to pieces of the plane. A man, still in his socks but without pants, lay in the field, his right arm placed on his stomach as if in repose. Others had personal belongings nearby. A young man in blue shorts, wearing red Nike sneakers but no pants, lay with his arms and legs splayed outward, an iPhone by his side.
Dutch belongings were scattered through the grass: a child's pink book; a parking ticket picked up by a man named Hans van den Hende; and a book of stickers. Children's playing cards were sprinkled near the road.
Mundane items of daily life covered the grass. Toiletries spilled out of overnight bags: Nivea cream: a razor; a glass bottle of cologne. A maxi pad lay in the grass. A soft blue fuzzy blanket spilling from a red suitcase was caught on a sharp metal pole. A bicycle lay in the grass, practically intact.
The area was also covered in feathers from brown chickens. There were two parrots, one of them lifting its wing as if waving, and a peacock.
The village closest to the site is Grabovo, a small coal-mining town whose residents had been among the first to see the plane. Oleg Georgievich, 40, a miner fighting with the insurgency here, said he had heard noises shortly after 4 pm and thought the town was being bombed. Aircraft had been flying over daily, he said, adding these had bombed neighbouring villages on a number of occasions.
Hearing a whistle-like sound, he walked onto his balcony on the fifth floor and saw something falling from the sky. Later, he understood it was part of the plane's fuselage. Subsequently, he saw things that looked like pieces of cloth coming fast toward the earth. They were bodies, many with their clothes torn off.
Rescue workers said they counted many children. A boy who seemed to be around 10 lay on his side in the grass in a red T-shirt that read "Don't Panic".
A rescue worker staffing a white table, who gave only his first name, Alexei, said the area of the crash was 10-15 sq km, four-six sq miles, in a rectangle he had cross-hatched in red on a map.
He said parts of the plane were scattered through the entire area and that the pilot had not tried to land on the field; the plane appeared to have been torn apart in the sky. "It fell down in pieces," he said.
Rescue workers, numbering about 60, were setting up tents to gather the dead, he added.
Georgievich, the coal miner, said he was afraid of what the tragedy would bring. Ukraine has been accusing Russia and the rebels of shooting down its planes, he said, adding he didn't think this situation would be any different. "Tomorrow, the Ukrainians are going to say I shot this plane down with my gun," he said, standing in the darkness. "Look at me. I'm in sneakers; I have no flak jacket. You want to know what year it was made?" he asked a journalist. The date stamped on the gun was 1953.
©2014 The New York Times News Service