"THOMAS"

He was born on June 14, 2004, in the city of Biržai (Lithuania). He was killed on March 13, 2025, in the Kupiansk area of Kharkiv Oblast, Ukraine, at the age of 20. Tomas Valentelis. A name that, in a single day, became close to many—even to those who never knew him personally. In a piece by the Lithuanian outlet “Šiaurės Rytai,” people who had seen Tomas since childhood and stood beside him at different moments of his life remember not a “heroic image,” but a living person—quiet, kind, and attentive. His teachers speak almost in the same words: calm, non-confrontational, able to find common ground with everyone. In the early grades—polite and reserved, without “mischief,” hard to “draw out.” Later he became even quieter, and the pandemic and isolation seemed to finally sever the usual school connections. A story about his father is remembered with particular warmth—how he worried, supported him, stayed close, and poured all his love into his son. And because of that, the lines about pride become painfully sharp: “I’m proud… but it’s terrifying when you know your child won’t come home.” Tomas’s brother-in-arms, paramedic Yaroslav (“Jara”), recalls their first meeting in the autumn of 2024: Tomas was closed off, but you could talk with him and laugh, too. He offered help, took on tasks, and had motivation. Before going out on a mission, Yaroslav asked again if he was ready—Tomas confirmed. Then the worst happened, and his friends did everything they could to bring him home so his family would have someone to bury. From Ukraine, words of gratitude are added by Alla Didur, the founder of “Citadel UA”: according to her, Tomas fought not only for Ukraine, but also for justice—and that matters when it feels like you are alone. “We are losing the best… so young…” This text is about remembrance. About quiet people who do not try to be “special,” yet make a choice that changes others. Let us safeguard the names. Let us safeguard the living. 🕯️