Relatives still waiting to hear why the Kursk sank 7/8/01

CAROLINE WYATT:
Mothers and widows of the men who died on the Kursk. It's a remembrance ceremony in the town the submarine was named after. Viktor Kuznetsov is buried here. He was just 28 when he died. His widow, Svetlana, is bringing up their three-year-old son Dima alone. Her friend Irina lays flowers at the memorial. The body of her husband, Ivan Tsymbal, still lies at sea in the sunken wreckage of the Kursk. For the families here, one year on, the sense of loss is still devastating. Their husbands served together on the Kursk, but it's only this past year Svetlana and Irina have become friends, sharing happier memories of their husbands' homecoming after long months at sea. Irina remembers the day her husband, Ivan, came back after three months away. It was 1999. She and the other wives waited eagerly on the quay. Each time Ivan came home safe was a huge relief. The joy on Irina's face as she greets him is clear. The two met when Ivan was serving on a warship in the Crimea. Irina was 17. They fell in love and married soon after, moving north when he was promoted to warrant officer on the Kursk. Their two boys, Volodya and Ilia, were his greatest pride. The fun and the comradeship the men and their families shared is obvious from this home video. This was one of the last times that they'd all be together celebrating Navy Day. Svetlana and her husband Viktor were here too enjoying their family day out. Next time, they promised, we'll all celebrate together in Kursk. Svetlana met Viktor at the submarine base near Murmansk where she was a cook. Soon after they married, their son Dima was born. Svetlana knew the risks of Viktor's job, but never thought he'd die in peacetime. Both widows now live far from those northern seas, resettled by the navy in the southern town of Kursk, where many of the crew came from. The women's new homes are compensation for their husbands' death. But what Irina and Svetlana really want isn't money but answers - answers about why and how their husbands died. Almost every day they meet to talk about the latest news. They try to enjoy the summer sunshine as they build their new lives, but it isn't easy and they still don't trust the Russian authorities to open up about why the Kursk sank.

IRINA TSYMBAL:
WIDOW
(TRANSLATION)
We have to watch the TV news to get any information. It's just as it always was. The authorities say to us, "Watch TV and you'll find out everything." If they hadn't already recovered some bodies from the Kursk, it would have been better to leave it. But now I'd really like to have somewhere for me and my children to go to remember Ivan.

SVETLANA KUZNETSOV:
(TRANSLATION)
It's very important to us to know what happened. People should know why the vessel perished, why people died. My son will grow up and ask me and what can I say to him? "I don't know why your father died" I'm just not 100% sure we'll ever be told. There'll just be different versions, because that's what our country is like.

WYATT:
This picnic is one of the last happy memories for Andrei Abramov. He served with Viktor and Ivan on the Kursk. Andrei desperately wants to know the truth. He left the navy just months before the submarine set out on its final journey. Now all his comrades are dead. But they're never far from his thoughts and prayers, today more than ever. He and their families light 118 candles, one for every man who died.

ANDREI ABRAMOV:
FORMER KURSK OFFICER
(TRANSLATION)
They were the best lads I came across in all my time in the navy. You weren't scared to go out to sea with them because you knew you could rely on them. On a submarine, that's vital. Because either everyone perishes, or everyone is victorious. We've got to raise the Kursk, for our navy and our country. And for the memory of the crew, to find out what happened so we can lay the men to rest.

WYATT:
The Kremlin also wants to lay to rest the secrets and lies of last year. We pass an eerie submarine graveyard just outside Murmansk. For the first time, the Kremlin has invited Western journalists to see the site of the operation to raise the Kursk. The orange buoys on the Barents Sea mark where the wreckage lies. As we approached the Kursk, there was a minute's silence for the dead. This is as close as we'll get to the ships co-ordinating the mission, but it's still a major step for Russia to allow Western journalists so near to the site of the tragedy. This whole operation is about more than just recovering the wreckage of the Kursk - it's also about salvaging Russia's reputation. Yet Russia's promises of greater openness have met a sceptical audience. Even the normally docile Russian media aren't convinced. The admiral in charge gave a bizarre ship-to-ship press conference by radio, revealing little. President Putin, he said, was fulfilling his pledge to the families, to find out the truth and bring the bodies back for burial. To do that, Russia has finally embraced Western help on this ambitious salvage operation. A team of British divers is working with the Russians, doing some of the most dangerous work of all. On their first dive, nobody knew what to expect. Their pictures show an eerie underwater grave - the Kursk, motionless, 100 metres below. This is where the crew were trapped after the explosions, waiting for a rescue that never came. They lived for hours, perhaps even days. The remains of Ivan and his comrades still lie inside, waiting for a proper burial. The divers are marking out the back sections, so they can drill holes in the hull and attach cables to lift the wreckage and tow it back to shore. But, controversially, they've been told to cut off the damaged front section and leave it behind. This is why. Before the Kursk set out, the navy displayed its deadly arsenal of missiles and torpedoes. The authorities say it's still too dangerous to raise this front compartment. It could contain live warheads. Yet it's the one section that might reveal what happened in those awful final minutes. Some believe a torpedo malfunctioned, setting off an uncontrollable fire and the second massive blast. That would mean the Russian navy was to blame - an unpalatable thought for many. Yet, at the Russian naval headquarters in Moscow, Igor Dygalo insists the investigators are keeping an open mind and that there'll be no cover-up.

IGOR DYGALO:
RUSSIAN NAVY SPOKESMAN
(TRANSLATION)
There are still some journalists who claim the naval command is hiding the reason for the disaster. That's completely untrue, their suspicions are groundless. At the moment, we are striving for maximum transparency and openness, and we're also keeping the families well informed about the investigation.

WYATT:
An impressive display on Navy Day. The Russian President, Vladimir Putin, made a point of being there, in stark contrast to his performance last year. When the Kursk went down, he refused to cut short his holiday. He's learned much since then, about PR and the fact that appearances matter. That's why the Kremlin has taken a close interest in the idea of a memorial. Two sculptors in the town of Kursk have created this model, with the submarine's conning tower engraved with the names of the dead. They believe the families need a focus for their grief and want the Kremlin to pay for a full-size statue - a tribute cast in stone to the men who lost their lives. One year on, the anger may have subsided but the grief is still raw. For many families here, the only consolation is that they know the remains of their sons and husbands will soon be coming home for burial. As Navy Day draws to a close, old friends of Svetlana's husband gather around his grave to pay a sailors tribute to a fallen comrade. They salute him with vodka and leave a glass for his soul as a final goodbye. The day Viktor, Ivan and the other men died at sea, the faith of many in Russia's leadership died too. One year on, that faith is proving hard, if not impossible, to resurrect.