Casefile True Crime - Case 106: Peter Nielsen (Part 2)

Episode Date: February 9, 2019

[Part 2 of 2] After 46-year-old Vitaly Kaloyev loses his entire family in the Überlingen mid-air collision, he becomes consumed by grief. Unable to move on, he pours his energy into finding the air traffic controller he believes is responsible for the death of his wife and children. As Kaloyev discovers whether revenge really is the best medicine, the question emerges – is he a hero or a villain? --- Episode narrated by the Anonymous Host Episode researched and written by Milly Raso For all credits and sources please visit casefilepodcast.com/case-106-peter-nielsen-part-2

Our episodes deal with serious and often distressing incidents. If you feel at any time you need support, please contact your local crisis centre. For suggested phone numbers for confidential support, please see the show notes for this episode on your app or on our website. In the early hours of July 2, 2002, 46-year-old Vitaly Koloyev sat alone in the arrival lounge of Barcelona's El Prat International Airport, keeping an eye on the flight information board that displayed the schedule of all inbound flights. Listed amongst them was Bashkirian Airlines flight BTC 2937, which had been due to arrive from Moscow more than an hour ago.

The word delayed had since been noted alongside. Vitaly had inquired about the delay to airport staff at an information desk, but they offered him no explanation. With no other option but to endure the wait, Vitaly purchased the third coffee, returned to his seat, and continued his dutiful watch of the information board. Over the following minutes, the half-empty room began to fill with people. Reporters and news crews quickly gathered around the information desk, pointing cameras, microphones, and voice recorders at airport staff, bombarding them with a flurry of questions that Vitaly couldn't quite make out.

One reporter noticed Vitaly curiously watching the scene unfold. She rushed to him, holding out a microphone, as a cameraman trailed behind. The reporter asked Vitaly if he was waiting for a flight to arrive from Moscow. When he answered yes, the reporter offered her condolences. Confused, Vitaly asked why. The reporter replied, Vitaly Kaloyev was the lead architect overseeing the airport staff. Vitaly Kaloyev was the lead architect overseeing the airport staff. Vitaliy Kaloyev was the lead architect overseeing the construction of a mansion in Blandis,

a coastal town approximately 70km north of Barcelona. In his hometown of Vladikavkaz in southeast Russia, Vitaliy had designed and helped construct 100 homes, including his own spacious three-story red brick house near the snow-capped Calcassus Mountains. Due to his many architectural accomplishments, Vitaliy had been specifically requested for the development project in Spain. Vitaliy's strong work ethic, coupled with the pride he took in his creations, made him a highly sought-after addition to any upcoming development project.

Yet, by the 2000s, he had experienced several career setbacks. Whilst on a work site, Vitaliy fell into a pit and broke his leg, forcing him to take time off work and forgo several projects. A lengthy recovery resulted in the default of his construction company, leaving him with no job and little income. Once his leg healed, the ever-industrious Vitaliy began searching for any opportunity to get straight back into the work he loved. When he received a job offer to help build a mansion for a wealthy Russian in Spain,

Vitaliy gratefully accepted. Although it was a fantastic opportunity, it wasn't an easy decision. By taking the two-year contract, Vitaliy had to relocate to Spain, leaving his family behind in Russia. The following years were filled with long bouts of homesickness and melancholy, eased only by daily phone calls home. It brought Vitaliy immense joy hearing the voices of his wife, 44-year-old Svetlana, and their two young children, 10-year-old son Konstantin and 4-year-old daughter Diana.

Svetlana was supportive of her husband's career endeavors, as she too was ambitious and dedicated to her job as the department supervisor for a large bank. It was their commitment to work that initially brought the couple together, as Vitaliy and Svetlana attended the same business meetings. Vitaliy was there on behalf of his construction company, whereas Svetlana attended on behalf of the bank. During these meetings, Svetlana carried herself with her trademark prim professionalism, yet Vitaliy caught glimpses of her coy sense of humour.

Smitten, he asked her on a date, and to the pair headed to the cinema. During their first date, Vitaliy and Svetlana both knew they were made for each other. They married the following year, and in 1991, a few months into their marriage, the newly words welcomed their firstborn, a son they named Konstantin. Konstantin grew up into an energetic, fearless boy who enjoyed freestyle wrestling, whilst also harboring a quiet, contemplative side with an avid interest in computer games, chess, and astronomy. Konstantin begged his parents for a telescope, which Vitaliy promised to buy him once his

work in Spain was complete. Before her second pregnancy, Svetlana visited her local church and prayed for a daughter. In 1998, her prayers were answered when she gave birth to Diana. When Vitaliy's Spanish contract reached its conclusion in mid-2002, he invited his family to join him in Spain for a month-long holiday. Although he missed his homeland and was looking forward to returning to Russia, he wanted Svetlana, Konstantin, and Diana to see the Spanish coast and experience the ocean for the first time in their lives.

In the weeks leading up to his family's arrival, Vitaliy thought about where he could take them. Svetlana would love strolling through the stunning botanical gardens of Marimutra in Blandis. Ten-year-old Konstantin loved dinosaurs, and Vitaliy knew his boy would be in awe of the life-sized models at the Palaeontological Museum. As for his youngest, four-year-old Diana, whom Vitaliy referred to as his princess, it wasn't a place she wanted to see, but a person, her father.

Diana had memorized Vitaliy's mobile phone number and called him daily, keeping him on the phone for hours as she relayed all the happenings at home. When she ran out of news, she would sing or recite kindergarten poems. The last time the father and daughter saw each other was when Vitaliy made a brief visit home. When he was due to return to Spain, Diana tightly grabbed under his clothes, begging her father to take her with him. By the time the Colloya family had obtained their visas for Spain, the initial flights

they hoped to book were already sold out. July was the beginning of the summer holidays, and Spain was a popular and affordable tourist destination for Russian nationals. Around noon on Monday, July 1, 2002, Sweatlana received a phone call from her travel agent with good news. An unscheduled charter flight to Barcelona had been organized last minute for that evening, and there were still seats available. Just three hours before it was due to depart from Moscow, Sweatlana purchased three tickets

for herself, Konstantin and Diana on Bashkirian Airlines Flight BTC 2937. After quickly packing their suitcases, the trio rushed to Domodedevo Airport to embark their long-awaited journey to be reunited with Vitaliy. Hours later, as Vitaliy Colloya vaguely awaited the arrival of his family at El Prat Airport, he received the devastating news. Bashkirian Airlines Flight BTC 2937 had collided with a cargo jet in the skies over Lake Constance in southern Germany. Desperate to find out whether his family were okay, Vitaliy took the next available flight

to Zurich in Switzerland, which was less than a two-hour drive away from Lake Constance. The three-hour flight felled and was overwhelmed by the uncertain fate of his family, Vitaliy struggled to stay still, constantly standing to pace nervously up and down the cabin. In an attempt to remain calm, Vitaliy reassured himself that reports of the incident were likely exaggerated and that his wife and children were probably fine. Upon his arrival to Zurich International Airport, Vitaliy took a cab across the border into southern Germany, heading straight to the scene of the crash. By the time he was driving towards Elvingen, ten hours had passed since the mid-air catastrophe.

Vitaliy noticed the sky getting progressively darker and the smell of smoke becoming stronger. Closer to the township, the cab driver began cautiously navigating around large fragments of metal scattered across the roadways as police officers searched amongst the debris, flagging human remains. Although civilians and relatives of those aboard the flight were not encouraged to participate in the search for bodies, Vitaliy couldn't help himself, convincing the police officers in charge of the crash site to let him look for his family. Rows of apple tree saplings led to the passenger cabin of the Bashkirin Airlines Tupolev aircraft,

which lay on its side, torn wide open, with the force of impact flattening the tubular structure to about half its original size. Rescue workers entered the wreckage to retrieve the remains of the passengers inside, which Vitaliy would come to learn first hand were mostly children. As the cabin was emptied, Svetlana, Konstantin and Diana were nowhere to be seen. The following morning, the daughter of a farmer who lived three kilometers from Elvingen was driving cows to pasture. As she led them into a meadow alongside a fruit orchard, she spotted something through

a low wooden fence. Resting under a tree was the body of a young girl wearing a pink dress. At the crash site headquarters in Elvingen, Vitaliy Koloyev was handed a collection of photographs of the victims who had so far been recovered from the site. The desperate father was immediately struck by the third image of a little brown-haired girl wearing a pink dress. Vitaliy burst into tears and exclaimed, Diana, my Diana. Due to the Tupolev's breakup in mid-air, 40 passengers were expelled from the cabin

during descent. Their bodies later discovered throughout fields and meadows by horrified farmers. A large, leafy order tree broke four-year-old Diana's fall, keeping her body intact and relatively undamaged aside from scratches and bruises caused by the branches. Vitaliy later visited the site where Diana was recovered and spotted a pearl necklace under the order tree, recognizing it as a gift he had given his daughter the year prior. Its chain had snapped, scattering the white beads everywhere. Vitaliy ran his hands through the grass, managing to recover eight of the beads, which he folded

into his handkerchief before placing them in his left breast pocket, with the promise to carry them always. The remains of 10-year-old Konstantin were located on a rural road in front of a bus stop. When Vitaliy saw his son's body at the morgue, he began beating his head against a wall until he drew blood, causing worried staff to rush out and summon a police officer, fearful that the grieving father was trying to kill himself. Days later, the third and final heartbreak came when Vitaliy's wife, Swetlana, was found in a cornfield.

Vitaliy escorted the coffins carrying Swetlana, Konstantin and Diana back home to Vladikavkars in Russia, where he was greeted by crowds of grieving family, friends and supporters from the local community. Over the following three days, the coffins were displayed at the Koloyev homestead and visited by a procession of mourners so immense that several surrounding streets had to be blocked off to control the crowds. On the third day, a funeral was held, as Swetlana and her two children were laid to rest together in the cemetery in their hometown.

Their shared headstone featured a black and white image of the trio in their home garden, Swetlana holding a bunch of flowers, with Konstantin and Diana happily by her side. After the service, Vitaliy spoke about his immense loss, saying, I cannot live anymore, I simply cannot exist. In the weeks following the funeral of his wife and children, Vitaliy's life slipped by, marked by little more than daily visits to the cemetery. He constantly dressed in black, refused to shave, and stopped working. Grief-induced stress caused his hair to gray, making him appear older than his 46 years.

The Koloyev's three-story mansion felt cold and empty, the unnatural silence inside unbearable. For a long time, Vitaliy could not bring himself to go up to the second and third floors where his wife and children's bedrooms were located, instead sleeping on a couch in the kitchen downstairs. When he eventually headed upstairs, he turned one room into a shrine for Swetlana, Konstantin and Diana, placing their beds inside and covering each in photos and mementos. On his wife's bed, he displayed her favorite scents and suites, while his sons featured a chessboard, various toys, and encyclopedias.

His daughter's crib held her drawings, toys, and clothing, as well as her favorite doll. Vitaliy was convinced the ghosts of his family haunted him at night. When he managed to fall asleep, he was plagued by nightmares of his children falling from the sky, calling out for their papa. Each time Vitaliy would wake abruptly, rush to the cemetery in the early morning darkness, and collapse at Konstantin and Diana's grave to tell them reassuringly, I'm here. Papa has come. On the one year anniversary of the Uberlingen mid-air collision, a memorial service was

held in Ovingen, where an almost unrecognizable Vitaliy Kaloyev stood amongst the crowd of mourners. All dressed in black, his gaunt, tired face was now framed by a long, unkempt beard. Also in attendance were Skyguide officials. Distraught and seeking an explanation for the collision, Vitaliy Kaloyev confronted Alan Rossiya, the chief executive of Skyguide. He grabbed Rossiya by the shoulder, forcibly turned him around, and showed him photographs of Konstantin and Diana laying in their coffins.

Diana's bodyguard attempted to push Vitaliy away, causing the grieving father to remark, You killed my children, and you do not want to talk to me. The altercation garnered the attention of the media attending the event. In an attempt to defuse the situation, Alan Rossiya pleaded to Vitaliy not to make a scene, and invited him to visit Skyguide's office the following day to open dialogue and answer his questions. When Rossiya began to walk away, Vitaliy followed, asking when Skyguide planned to publicly name the anonymous air traffic controller, whose actions allegedly led to the collision.

He asked several times, Do you think the air controller is to blame? Rossiya did not respond. The following day, Vitaliy arrived to Skyguide's corporate office for his meeting with Alan Rossiya, where he was told the air traffic controller on duty the night of the collision was on vacation, and would not be in attendance. Irritated, Vitaliy accused Skyguide of intentionally hiding the controller, so he wouldn't be able to release information that proved the company's fault in the collision, ensuring they avoided any financial repercussions.

As the controller still worked for Skyguide, Vitaliy felt the company continued to employ him to ensure his silence. Rossiya denied these allegations, telling Vitaliy to remain patient and await the results of the crash investigation. Rossiya also remained steadfast in his refusal to accept a guilt or apologize on behalf of Skyguide. Three and a half months after this meeting, Vitaliy received a letter from Skyguide's lawyers offering a compensation payment of 60,000 Swiss francs for the death of Svetlana

and 50,000 for the deaths of Konstantin and Diana. In exchange, Vitaliy had to agree not to hold the company liable. Furious that Skyguide put a price on his loss, Vitaliy refused the offer, believing that by accepting the payout he was expected to forget his family and give up hope of holding someone accountable for their deaths. His attempts to meet with Alan Rossiya to discuss the offer in person were futile. Skyguide's lawyers informed Vitaliy that the executive would no longer be meeting with relatives of the victims of the disaster.

Vitaliy made it clear that he wasn't interested in money. All he wanted was for someone to accept responsibility for the tragedy and apologize for the loss of his family. In his culture, this was considered the minimum courtesy one would expect, but the apology didn't come. Determined to find someone who would take responsibility for the tragedy, Vitaliy hired a private investigator from Moscow to track down the Skyguide air traffic controller on duty the night of the Uglingen mid-air collision.

Two months later, in February 2004, the private investigator handed Vitaliy Koloyev an envelope that contained pictures of the air traffic controller, along with photos of his wife and children, his current address in Switzerland, and his full name, Peter Nielsen. Vitaliy told the investigator that he planned on giving this information to the media, who he felt had forgotten about the collision. He believed their interest would be reignited if they learned the true identity of the air traffic controller. Yet, Vitaliy did not give the photographs to the press.

Instead, he phoned a Swiss-based travel agency and asked them to book him into a hotel room close to Zurich International Airport. On Saturday, February 21, 2004, Vitaliy arrived in Switzerland and checked in to the Wölkermin, a hotel situated in the suburb of Kloten. According to hotel staff, their Russian guest kept to himself and did little to attract their attention. That breakfast, he sat in it alone, before spending most of the day in his room, emerging occasionally to head out into town.

Staff watched as he flicked through travel brochures offering tours of the city and dyed maps of the local area. The hotel's manager recalled, he seemed like any other tourist. On the evening of Tuesday, February 24, 2004, a Kloten resident looked out their window and noticed a dishevelled looking man dressed in black loitering in the street. The resident watched as the man inhaled a cigarette before tossing it to the ground and crushing it with his shoe. He then approached the pink-washed building of a nearby unit block and knocked on the

first door he came across. The female occupant pulled back a curtain and eyed the stranger as a friendly smile emerged from behind his unruly, overgrown beard. The woman opened her door slightly, asking if he was looking for someone. Good evening, the man responded in a thick Eastern European accent, before handing over a piece of paper with the name Peter Nielsen written on it, along with the address for the unit next door. The woman nodded and pointed towards the property.

By the time the police were called and arrived to the area some 15 minutes later, it was too late. Peter Nielsen had bled to death from multiple stab wounds to his chest, abdomen and throat. Neighbours, as well as Peter's wife Metta, provided detectives with a detailed description of the perpetrator. A burly bearded man aged in his 40s or 50s with graying hair, wearing dark clothing with a long coat, who spoke with a Russian accent. A search of the area led to the discovery of a 22cm long folding knife which had been

discarded in the snow near the Nielsen's residence. Testing revealed its blade contained traces of Peter Nielsen's blood, confirming it to be the murder weapon. All unidentified fingerprints were also located on the handle. After years of being suppressed, Peter Nielsen's name was finally published by the press. Not only was he identified as a victim of murder, but also as the air traffic controller under investigation for the 2002 Uberling and mid-air collision. As such, a link between the two incidents was immediately drawn by police, who strongly

suspected the killer may have been motivated by revenge. Keeping their assumptions under wraps, law enforcement declined to identify their suspect or release his nationality to the media. Making their own inquiries, reporters spoke with Peter's neighbours who confirmed the alleged killer to be a Russian man. The media also caught wind that Swiss border police had been put on high alert, indicating there was a genuine concern the killer might flee the country. This added fuel to presumptions the killer was indeed a Russian national, and the murder

and act of revenge for the Uberling and mid-air collision. As police searched for Peter Nielsen's killer, global media speculated as to who it might be. Initial suspicions were spotlighted on Alexander Sarchuk, whose wife and two children had perished aboard Bashkirian Airlines Flight BTC 2937 as part of the Ufa school trip. The monumental scale of his loss indicated Alexander fit the profile of someone likely to seek revenge against Peter Nielsen. To dispel rumors, Alexander appeared on Russian television to establish he was not in Switzerland

at the time of Peter's murder, and to publicly condemn the killing of the former air controller. The hunt to find the suspect led police to look beyond the relatives of the Ufa school group. They discovered another Russian man had also lost everything in the Uberling and mid-air collision, Vitaly Kaloyev, whose physical appearance matched witness descriptions of the alleged killer. Inquiries led to the discovery that a week before the killing, Vitaly had obtained a tourist visa for Switzerland.

With airline records confirming he flew into Zurich on February 21, three days before the crime, and had yet to return to Russia. Vitaly Kaloyev became the prime suspect, with the motive for killing Peter Nielsen presumed to be an unprecedented case of deliberate revenge by a grief-stricken man with nothing left to lose. One tabloid read, In the catastrophe over Lake Constance, Vitaly Kaloyev's entire family perished. His wife and two children.

It can be assumed that, without waiting for the results of the investigation, this man decided to take justice into his own hands. Moreover, in Russia, where Vitaly Kaloyev comes from, blood feuds are widespread. The use of Vitaly Kaloyev's possible involvement in Peter Nielsen's murder came as little surprise to those who knew him. Vitaly's brother Yuri told Russian reporters that his brother had disappeared a week ago without telling anyone where he was going, and his sister-in-law Margarita further explained. Vitaly suffered everything alone, and after two years he was in such a state that I would

not be surprised if he would behave irrationally. Put yourself in his place, to lose all your family in a minute. At 5pm on Wednesday, February 25, the day after Peter Nielsen's murder, five plainclothes police officers arrived to the Welke-Minn Hotel, having been informed by a local travel agency their prime suspect was a current guest. Local staff directed the officers to room 316, and upon entry, they found Vitaly Kaloyev asleep on the bed, his packed suitcase nearby. The officers surrounded the end of the bed as one shook Vitaly's leg.

When he awoke, he smiled and asked, what took so long? Vitaly was immediately placed under arrest for the murder of Peter Nielsen and escorted to Zurich police headquarters where he was taken into an interrogation room for questioning. In the presence of Swiss detectives at the translator, Vitaly was asked if he knew the name Peter Nielsen. His response was, yes, that is the killer of my children. He initially denied involvement in Peter's murder, claiming he was at the hotel bar at the time of the killing.

He insisted he was only in Zurich for a brief stop whilst in transit to Spain, as he wanted to visit a local priest who had supported him at the Ovingen crash site in 2002 to thank him with a gift. Unconvinced, detectives treated Vitaly's hands with a solution which revealed the presence of bloodstaining. A forensic investigation of Vitaly's room at the Welke-Minn also revealed traces of Peter Nielsen's blood in the bathroom. Witnesses, including Peter's wife, met her, positively identified Vitaly as the man responsible

for the murder. Furthermore, the fingerprints found on the handle of the murder weapon matched Vitaly's. With this discovery, Vitaly admitted to owning the weapon, explaining that all Russian men carried knives on them at all times in case they came across a task that required the use of one. Yet, he conceded to purchasing the knife in question in Zurich. With evidence mounting against him, Vitaly finally admitted to confronting Peter outside his home on the evening of February 24.

However, he stopped short of confessing to the murder, maintaining he couldn't remember the events that followed the confrontation, only that he had lost control and had probably killed Peter. He insisted his intention in hiring a private investigator to obtain Peter Nielsen's personal information was to finally expose the air traffic controller's identity to the public. In the end, he decided to meet Peter before going to the press, believing a conversation with the man might change his attitude. Doctors determined Vitaly was at a high risk of suicide and he was transferred from police

custody to a psychiatric clinic. During the day, Vitaly was allowed out of his room to socialise with other patients in the clinic's common area. To pass the time, he would watch others play backgammon and chess, but would never participate himself. One day, a doctor challenged Vitaly to a game of chess and he accepted. Vitaly won 12 games against the doctor, earning him the nickname of Grandmaster and confirming he was not only mentally sound and stable, but incredibly intelligent.

As doctors determined whether Vitaly was fit to stand trial for Peter Nielsen's murder, the investigation into the 2002 Uberling and Midair Collision was finally completed. In May 2004, 22 months after the catastrophe and 3 months after the murder of Peter Nielsen, the German Federal Bureau of Aircraft Accidents investigation released their full report. Its timing led many to believe the languishing investigation was spurred by the former control as death. The bureau denied this allegation, maintaining that the delay in their findings was due to officials being tied up with other investigations.

The comprehensive 114 page investigation report detailed all aspects of the crash, from the aircrafts and crews involved, to skyguide and the inner workings of their air traffic control. Through conducting tests, research, analysis, interviews, and collecting evidence, the report revealed the full extent of Peter Nielsen's culpability in the catastrophic collision. According to the report, at 5.50pm on July 1, 2002, Peter Nielsen reported in for work at Skyguide's Area Control Center in Zurich International Airport. Due to the reduction of air traffic at night, Skyguide felt it necessary to only have two

air traffic controllers on night duty. Peter Nielsen and his fellow night shift colleague were seated several feet apart at separate workstations, dutifully observing their radar screens. Typical of the late shift, Swiss airspace was relatively empty with only a few aircrafts passing through. With such little going on, Peter's colleague decided to take a lengthy break, which was a mutually accepted practice between colleagues tolerated by Skyguide management. At 9pm, Peter's colleague headed to the staff lounge to take a nap, an act that would normally

see him return to the control room in the early hours of the morning. Approximately 10 minutes later, two Skyguide authorized technicians stopped by Peter's workstation to inform him they would be carrying out maintenance work on the control tower's main radar equipment. A task that would take approximately 6 hours and would require the main telephone system to be shut down. Such intrusive maintenance work, though uncommon, was necessary to ensure everything in the control tower was in constant working order.

Everything occurred mostly at night, as such disruptions would wreak havoc during the busy day shift. Peter could do little else but accept the inconvenience. At 9.25pm, Peter received radio communications from the cockpit crew of Aero Lloyd Flight AEF 1135, which was coming into land at the Friedrichshafen Airport, a German city on the northern shoreline of Lake Constance. The flight had been scheduled to land earlier, but unexpected delays meant it was now running late and the crew were eager to return to ground.

To monitor this aircraft, Peter moved away from his own radar screen and went to his colleague's unmanned workstation, where he switched the screen to display airspace over Friedrichshafen Airport. Friedrichshafen's runways were closed at night, meaning Peter needed to phone the airport to obtain clearance for the aircraft to land there outside operating hours. However, due to the ongoing maintenance work occurring at Skyguide's control tower, Peter's phone was temporarily out of order and he was unable to make the call. Suddenly, Peter received radio communications from a new aircraft entering Swiss airspace.

In Alexandergross, piloting Bashkirian Airlines Flight BTC 2937, radioed Skyguide's area control centre identifying his aircraft and detailing their flight altitude at 36,000 feet. Just as Peter returned to his own workstation to acknowledge the Bashkirian Airlines flight, he was immediately interrupted by the Aero Lloyd crew. Determined to land, they had started their final approach into Friedrichshafen. This was a problem. Peter hadn't made contact with the airport, so the plane didn't yet have clearance to

land. Air traffic controllers are used to juggling multiple flights at once, but with the added pressure of working alone, the deficient phones, and having to physically move between two radar screens, Peter was quickly becoming overwhelmed. He focused on what he deemed the most urgent task, ensuring the safe landing of the Aero Lloyd aircraft. Over the following minutes, Peter attempted to call Friedrichshafen Airport twice, but to no avail.

His phone line was still down. Peter radioed through to the Aero Lloyd cockpit and explained that he had no phone connection and requested the crew contact the airport directly. The pilot replied, Okay, we'll do. Meanwhile, at Karlsruhe Airport in southwestern Germany, an air traffic controller spotted danger on their radar screen. Two aircrafts were approaching the Germany-Switzerland border, both cruising at 36,000 feet. One was northbound, the other moving westerly.

Within minutes, the flight paths of Bashkirian Airlines flight BTC 2937 and a DHL cargo flight DHX 611 would intersect over late constants, resulting in a collision. As this particular section of airspace was under Skyguide's jurisdiction, international air traffic rules prevented the controller at Karlsruhe Airport from directly communicating with either of the aircraft's pilots. Instead, the controller phoned Skyguide's area control centre in Zurich to warn them of the impending crisis, but they couldn't get through. Skyguide's phones were still down.

Inside Skyguide's area control centre, Peter Nielsen, having dealt with the Aero Lloyd flight, returned to his radar screen. He immediately noticed that flight's BTC 2937 and a DHX 611 were rapidly approaching the same location over southern Germany, both flying at the same altitude. Realising they were on a collision course, Peter radioed through to the Troupolev cockpit, ordering Captain Alexander Gross to descend. He had no idea that the Troupolev's inbuilt traffic collision avoidance system was in the process of rectifying the critical situation and had instructed Captain Gross to ascend.

Peter repeated his demand to expedite descent, unaware his orders were actually directing the Troupolev towards imminent collision. He clarified to the crew that the other aircraft was in the Troupolev's two o'clock position, when in actuality, the Boeing was in the ten o'clock position. There was accepted that this situational error was a result of Peter becoming confused during the stressful situation. Captain Gross initiated descent as instructed by Peter. Relieved he had averted the crisis, Peter had little time to settle.

He was snapped back to attention by the Aero Lloyd cockpit crew, who radioed in with confirmation they had made contact with Friedrichshafen Airport and had received permission to land. Peter moved away from his workstation to his colleagues radar screen to monitor the landing. And half a minute later, at 9.36pm, Peter returned to his radar screen and witnessed the blips of flight BTC 2937 and DHX 611 suddenly disappear. He attempted to re-establish radio communications with the Troupolev cockpit crew, but it was too late. The report handed down by the Bureau concluded the 2002 Uberlingen-Midair collision was largely

due to two major causes. Firstly, Peter Nielsen was not quick enough in noticing the danger of the collision. Secondly, the Troupolev crew made an error by obeying him and should have followed the commands provided by their TCAS equipment instead. Despite these findings, the report determined Peter Nielsen was not responsible for the collision. It was severely critical towards Skyguide, faulting the air navigation company for allowing an air traffic controller to work alone and to permitting employees to take long breaks,

despite such behavior being against regulations. Although Skyguide management had informed Peter of the scheduled maintenance work, he was unaware of the detrimental impact it would have on the tower's technical equipment. But aside from the phone lines being shut down, the radar software was also placed in a restricted mode, causing the system to work slower than usual. Given this delay, it was highly likely Peter didn't fully understand the urgency of the situation as it was unfolding. This was indicated in the statements he provided immediately following the crash.

He told investigators that he ordered the Troupolev to descend two minutes before collision, and in reality, the order was given just 43 seconds prior. Furthermore, the issues that arose from the maintenance work meant Peter spent more time than anticipated coordinating the airbus' later arrival to Friedrichshafen Airport. They also impacted the warning calls from Karlsruhe Airport about the impending collision. In addition, there were only two radio frequencies available to Peter Nielsen's workstation. One was taken up by the airbus, and the other by the Troupolev, meaning transmissions from other flight crews were unable to get through.

This meant he did not receive the radioed messages sent by Captain Paul Phillips aboard the DHL Boeing cargo jet, in which the pilot explicitly reported his aircraft's traffic collision avoidance system had ordered him to descend. Had Peter heard these messages and was aware of the Boeing's descent, he would never have ordered the Troupolev to carry out the same action. Another factor working against Peter was that the ground-based optical collision warning system, which provides an early alert to controllers when collisions are imminent, had also been switched off for maintenance.

In conclusion, the report emphasized that individuals such as Peter Nielsen, Captain Alexander Grosz, and Captain Paul Phillips were not at fault for the collision, and were inconsequential to the poor organization, communication, and management conducted by Skyguide. Following publication of the Bureau's report, a critical lie was also placed on the International Civil Aviation Organization when it was revealed that a year and a half prior to the U.B. and mid-air collision, a similar incident almost occurred in airspace over Japan. On January 31, 2001, the flight paths of two Japan Airlines airliners crossed near the coastal city of Yaizu.

An air traffic controller noticed the imminent danger, but in circumstances that bore a chilling resemblance to the U.B. and mid-air collision gave orders that were in conflict with the aircraft's traffic collision avoidance system. Luckily, one of the pilots made visual contact with the other airliner and made a snap judgment to go against the instructions of the air traffic controller, proceeding to conduct an evasive manoeuvre. The two aircrafts missed each other by mere meters, with around 100 crew members and passengers

sustaining injuries in the process, some of them serious. This was not the only incident reported to the International Civil Aviation Organization. In the two years leading up to the U.B. and mid-air collision, four similar near-miss incidents involving pilots mistakenly obeying air traffic control instead of their TCAS equipment had occurred in Europe alone. The Japanese government appealed for international aviation authorities to implement measures to prevent such incidents from occurring in the future, sensing the situation was a disaster waiting to happen.

But their request was initially met with silence. The International Civil Aviation Organization only chose to act after the fatal U.B. and mid-air collision. Japanese officials later stated, The International Civil Aviation Organization did not feel it was necessary to get involved with this and that they left it entirely up to the Japanese authorities. Had it been a collision, maybe they would have gotten involved. If they carried out a detailed investigation of the incident in Japan and made recommendations

that led to changes in procedures, the U.B. and mid-air collision probably would not have happened. Following the revelation that Peter Nielsen was not personally responsible for the U.B. and mid-air collision, the true senselessness of his death became clear. Flowers, candles and messages of condolence started to appear around the Nielsen homestead. The former public enemy now a victim of circumstance. A colleague of Peter's remarked, It was just the saddest thing you can imagine.

I knew his family. I knew how much he loved his kids and wife. The Bureau's report had no impact on Vitaly Koloyev's circumstances, who was formally charged with the premeditated killing of Peter Nielsen, a crime under Swiss law which was positioned between murder and manslaughter. Supporters rallied throughout Russia on behalf of Vitaly, bearing signs with the slogan, Freedom to Koloyev.

The crowds included relatives of the youth of schoolchildren, who firmly believed Skyguide's shortcomings caused the chain of tragic events leading to Peter Nielsen's murder. And thus, Swiss authorities should be pursuing the company and viewing Vitaly's actions with sympathy. The trial for the premeditated killing of Peter Nielsen began on October 25, 2005. Vitaly Koloyev took the stand where he explained to the court

that the uberling and mid-air collision ended his life. Crushed by the overwhelming loss of his family, Vitaly stated, I have been living in the cemetery for almost two years, sitting behind their graves. Vitaly presented the contractual agreement he received from Skyguide's lawyers dated November 11, 2003, in which the company offered him monetary compensation for the deaths of Svetlana, Konstantin and Diana,

in return for not pursuing legal action against the company. Vitaly explained he was infuriated over Skyguide's initiative to haggle over his dead family, admitting to the court that he flew into a rage after receiving the letter, smashing the furniture in his home. Quote, How else should I react to the offer to sell my children? They demanded that I give up my family.

This was an attempt to solve the financial problems of the company at the expense of my dead children. They did not just want to pay me off, they wanted me to give up all the claims to all possible culprits of the disaster, so that they themselves could make claims to them. Vitaly explained he never wanted to cause physical suffering to anybody and only ever sought an apology from the head of Skyguide, chief executive Alan Rossia,

whom Vitaly called the main culprit of the air crash. When Rossia denied Vitaly's request for an apology, Vitaly sought out the next person in the chain of blame, Peter Nielsen. Vitaly walked through the days leading up to his confrontation with Peter. Upon arriving to Zurich, Vitaly left his hotel room and purchased the knife from a nearby supermarket. He then set out on the half-hour walk to the Nielsen's suburban flat,

where he waited nearby until he laid eyes on Peter for the first time. Over the following days, he stalked the former air traffic controller to the bus stop and watched as the father of three walked his children around a pond near his home. Vitaly hoped to see a hint of sorrow or conscience, something that would make him change his mind, but saw nothing of the sort. On the evening of February 24,

Vitaly took a seat on a garden chair near the Nielsen's patio. Peter emerged from the house and questioned who Vitaly was, to which he responded, I am Russia. Vitaly opened the envelope he had brought with him, which contained graphic images of his children's bodies. Distressed, Peter asked the grieving father, what do you want from me?

Pushing the photos into Peter's chest, Vitaly responded, he thought you could do this and go unpunished. What would you feel if you saw your children in coffins? Vitaly claimed to see arrogance and contempt in Peter's eyes as he swiped the photos away, causing them to flutter to the ground. Vitaly Kaloyev watched as they fell. Quote,

I only remember that I had a very disturbing feeling, as if the bodies of my children were turning over in their graves. He recalled pulling out his knife, although still maintained he could not remember what happened next, insisting everything went black. It took Peter Nielsen roughly two minutes to bleed to death, as his wife watched on helplessly. Vitaly fled the scene,

tossing the murder weapon into a mound of snow on his way back to his hotel. His first memory was taking out the envelope of photographs and realizing the images of his children were stained with blood. He looked down at his clothes and realized that he too was covered with blood. Vitaly downed two bottles of vodka, using some of the alcohol to wash the blood off his hands. He then showered and put his blood-stained clothes into a paper bag, which he took to the street outside and dumped in a bin.

Afterwards, he went to the hotel bath for a drink before retiring to bed for the night, where he slept peacefully without nightmares for the first time in a year and a half. The following morning, Vitaly went to the hotel restaurant and drank two cups of coffee before visiting a local church. When he returned to his hotel room, he packed his suitcase, then lay exhausted on the bed where he fell asleep. He woke hours later at 5pm when the police arrived.

Vitaly's lawyer argued for diminished responsibility, asserting the grieving father suffered an emotionally fueled blackout upon his confrontation with Peter, in which he lost all control. The prosecution were unconvinced Vitaly wasn't fully aware of his actions, believing the defendant was fueled by a burning desire for revenge to inflict harm on Peter, as evident by the fact he took a knife to what he insisted was a peaceful errand. After two days of proceedings, Vitaly's lawyer was found guilty for the premeditated killing of Peter Nielsen and sentenced to eight years in prison.

When the verdict was announced, Vitaly refused to stand, telling the court, I am accused of burying my children, why would I stand up? Outside court, Vitaly's brother Yuri showed reporters photographs of the bodies of the Russian children who died in the Uberlingen mid-air collision and said, I had to attend the trial of my brother today, instead of a trial of those who killed 71 people. A government official from Vitaly's hometown who attended the trial as a private citizen told reporters, skyguide can be happy and sleep calmly. Our Vitaly will be in prison and Nielsen, who bore the brunt of the company's sins,

is no longer with us. During the memorial service marking the second anniversary of the Uberlingen mid-air collision, Peter Nielsen was listed among the victims of the tragedy, and a separate candle was lit in his honor. Our Fia Channonova, whose daughter perished in the crash, spoke out in support of the former air traffic controller, stating, we didn't want Peter to be killed. We didn't want to have more victims related to that catastrophe because of our children. However, many other relatives of the deceased Russian school children spoke in defense of Vitaly. In a joint statement, they wrote, only we parents who have lost their children in this terrible

accident can fully understand the abyss of grief and the desperation of Vitaly Kaloyev after the death of his children and wife. We, the parents of the dead children, are outraged that a criminal investigation into the plane crash and the death of 71 people has not yet been completed and the specific guilty persons of skyguide have not been convicted. In fact, none of the perpetrators suffered even administrative punishment. At the same time, the trial of Vitaly Kaloyev, who was accused of the murder of one Swiss citizen, took place one year after the incident. Vitaly Kaloyev is not an avenged killer, but an unfortunate victim of a tragedy that destroyed his whole life. Parents and relatives of the dead Ulfa school

children found at least some strength communicating and supporting each other in a common grief. Vitaly Kaloyev was alone with his loss, having lived almost a year in the cemetery next to the graves of his loved ones. In this situation, a living person cannot calmly and adequately perceive the irresponsibility, indifference, and cynicism of the perpetrators of a plane crash trying to evade responsibility. The inhuman cynical attitude towards someone else's grief was manifested in the absence of official condolences and apologies to the families of the deceased, and later, the removal of the skyguide directorate from contact with lawyers defending our interests. If Alan Rossia had apologized to the relatives of the victims, Peter Nielsen might still be alive.

In a terrible plane crash on July 1, 2002, there are guilty people who under the laws of a civilized society must bear the appropriate punishment. The general director of the skyguide company, Alan Rossia, and the direct organizers of the flight safety device service should sit in the dock. Parents and relatives of the deceased children await justice. On August 7, 2006, four years after the Yuba-Ling and mid-air collision, families of the victims felt a collective sense of justice when a Swiss prosecutor filed 71 charges of negligent manslaughter against eight skyguide employees. Four of those charged were air traffic managers responsible for overseeing the area control center on the night of the crash. The others were skyguide

officials who had not been working at the time of the collision. During their testimony, the managers denied any culpability, instead blaming the controllers on duty at the time of the crash for unprofessional conduct, including Peter Nielsen, who they claimed poorly handled the events that led to the collision. They claimed they had no reason to foresee the skyguide's practice of leaving nightshift controllers alone, which had since been banned, could ever prove dangerous. State prosecutors accused the skyguide's management of turning a blind eye to bridges of international safety regulations, specifically the long-established practice of leaving only one controller to monitor Swiss airspace while another took a break. The prosecution also

detailed the investigation's findings that determined Peter Nielsen was not fully aware of the extent of how the maintenance work would impact his ability to conduct his duties safely and effectively. They argued skyguide management should have made greater efforts to explain these issues to Peter prior to his shift. The Swiss court agreed with the prosecution's argument that the disaster was caused by, quote, a chain reaction of breaches of duty and casual neglect. Judge Reiner-Huller ruled skyguide's management had contributed to an inconceivable tragedy. Quote, none of the accused can excuse themselves with the idea that another person could have prevented the disaster. Staffing the entire Zurich air control at night with only one controller

goes completely against the air traffic security principles. Judge Reiner stated that skyguide's managers could have averted the disaster by prohibiting the second controller from leaving Peter Nielsen alone. Quote, a simple ban on coffee breaks would have been enough to prevent the accident. All of the accused had the authority to ensure that two air traffic controllers were present. In September 2007, Judge Reiner delivered his verdict, finding all four of skyguide's air control managers guilty of 71 counts of negligent manslaughter. In sentences condemned as grossly inadequate by the victims' families, three of the managers were handed one year suspended sentences, and the fourth was ordered to pay a fine of 150 Swiss francs,

the equivalent of approximately 200 Australian dollars. The remaining four skyguide officials were each acquitted. Following the results of the court case, skyguide finally accepted full responsibility for the 2002 Uberling in mid-air collision, offering 30 victims' families financial compensation, while those who pursued legal action received payment in an out-of-court settlement. In a public statement, skyguide admitted, we, for our part, are convinced that this tragedy is attributable primarily to systemic causes in the interplay between people, technology, and procedures. Skyguide Chief Executive Alan Rossier admitted, quote, mistakes were made by us, and we regret them deeply. We acknowledge our responsibility has

set out in the German Federal Bureau of Aircraft Accident's investigation report, and we ask the families of the victims for forgiveness. Swiss President Kasper Villiger offered an official apology to Russia on behalf of his country. The German government also accepted some of the blame, concluding they should not have handed control of a portion of their airspace to a private foreign company that had obvious management issues. Vitaly Koloyev spent the beginning of his prison sentence in a psychiatric institution where he spent his days longing to visit his family's grave. After two years, he was transferred to a medium security prison. During his first stroll through the prison yard,

Vitaly claimed that almost all of the other prisoners approached him to express their respect for what he did. The Russian government lobbied on Vitaly's behalf, claiming his mental condition at the time of Peter Nielsen's murder was not sufficiently considered upon his sentencing. An expert psychologist had testified at trial that Vitaly was in a state of effect at the time of the killing, and it was therefore not possible to prove his intent. Given the tragedy had caused enough political grief and conflict between the countries, Vitaly Koloyev was released on November 8, 2007, on the order of Switzerland's highest court, after serving just three years of his eight year sentence. Vitaly returned to Russia, his business class seat paid for by his supporters.

Upon arriving home, he was greeted by enthusiastic crowds who lauded him as a hero for seeking justice on behalf of his country. Vitaly told gathering reporters that he did not regret the murder, nor consider himself a hero. He returned to live in the three-story Redbrick home he had designed for his family. Local journalists named Vitaly Man of 2007. In 2008, the local government appointed the former architect the role of deputy minister of construction of the Republic, a decision that was met with negative reception in Switzerland. Vitaly oversaw many federal and international construction projects, including the build of a television tower in his hometown of Vladikavkaz, the Kalkasus Musical and Cultural Center, and the sports palace in its Konvali.

He appreciated his government work as a distraction that gave him a sense of community involvement, holding the position until his retirement in January 2016. Switzerland's government eventually asked Vitaly to repay the costs of his incarceration, which amounted to 150,000 Swiss francs. Vitaly refused to do so, stating, even if I had this money, I would have given it to an orphanage or some other charity, definitely not to Switzerland. In 2012, Vitaly returned to Germany to attend the 10-year anniversary memorial service of the Eubolingen Mid-Air Collision. As he was still on a Swiss watch list, he was detained by German

authorities upon his arrival to the country. Vitaly was angry, stating he had as much right to attend the ceremony as anyone else. He had served his time and proven himself a respected member of his community. After being detained for questioning for most of the day, Vitaly was released when Russian diplomats agreed to accompany him during his stay in Germany. By this point, he had already missed the memorial service. Vitaly has since reflected on the fateful night in July 2002, where he awaited the arrival of his family to Spain. Quote, when you're about to see your family, you don't expect anything bad to happen. You are just happy. I believe neither in bad presages nor in signs from above. I only

believe in what I see. After all that happened, I am at odds with God. Russians remain divided about Vitaly's actions, those who admire him ponder over whether they would have the strength to do what he did. A member of an organization dedicated to helping the relatives of air crash victims stated, Kaloyev is a hero. Those guilty of causing air crashes often remain unpunished. Such a radical punishment is the only way to make them carry responsibility for their crimes. Vitaly has received hundreds of handwritten letters of support, with some coming from as far away as Canada and Australia and even Germany and Switzerland. Vitaly gratefully reads every piece of mail and keeps the letters carefully

stored away. A supporter from Moscow wrote to him, if it were up to me, I'd put the entire world at your feet. If more people were like you, the world would be a better place. Other Russians are horrified by Vitaly's celebrity status and regard him as a murderer. One critic stated, quote, We live in a very sick society. This is the clan mentality which Stalin successfully instilled in the minds of our ancestors and our people, and to now the authorities are appealing deliberately again to this primitive and barbarian psychology. In 2016, on the eve of his 60th birthday, Vitaly was awarded the highest state medal, titled To the Glory of Asetia.

The medal was presented for his role in improving the living conditions of the inhabitants of the region, educating the younger generation, and for maintaining law and order. Despite the investigation and court rulings concluding that Peter Nielsen was not responsible for the 2002 Uberling and mid-air collision, Vitaly remains remorseless about taking the former air traffic controllers life. Quote, He's nobody to me. He was an idiot, and that's why he paid for it with his life. If he'd been smarter, it wouldn't have been like this. If he'd invited me into the house, the conversation would have happened in softer tones, and the tragedy might not have happened. I think about his children. They're growing

up healthy, full of life. His wife is happy with her children. The grandparents are happy with the grandchildren. Who am I happy with? I don't really take offense of people who call me a murderer. People who say that would betray their own children, their own motherland. I protected the honor and the memory of my children. In a recent interview with a Russian newspaper, Vitaly insisted he does not want any pity. When asked if Peter Nielsen's death has since given him closure, Vitaly responded, I don't think so. Killing him didn't make me feel any better. Following the publication of the bureau's investigation into the 2002

Uberling and mid-air collision, a total of 19 safety recommendations were issued to limit the chance of such a rare catastrophic event ever happening again. One recommendation advised pilots that if conflicting instructions are simultaneously issued from their aircraft's traffic collision avoidance system and air traffic control, that orders given by T-cars take precedence. Standing in the entrance hall of Skyguides headquarters in Zurich is a two meter high commemorative sculpture made of blue glass and stone. The sculpture consists of 72 shimmering golden wing symbols that appear to ascend and descend at the same time. Each wing represents a victim who lost their life as a result of the 2002 Uberling and mid-air collision, including

Peter Nielsen. Located at each key side of the collision is a monument consisting of several giant steel balls connected by a broken chain, symbolizing the life threat of so many people abruptly and irrevocably torn on the night of July 1, 2002. The artwork spans several countries, including Russia and Switzerland, with the majority scattered throughout the Alwingan countryside in southern Germany. The monument was inspired by the pearl necklace four-year-old Diana Koloyev was given by her father, which was found in pieces beneath the order tree where her small body was discovered. An inscription written in German on a memorial plaque at the side of the crash translates as follows. In the midst of our lives, we are surrounded by death.

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