“The only way to wash away the shame is with weapons”: Why Russian volunteers choose to fight for Ukraine

RU

“I'm not one for peaceful protests. They f*ck you up, and you just stand there smiling”

Call sign “Eric” (real identity known to The Insider), 41. Commander of the UAV section.

I was born near Baikal and lived in the Rostov region. I was in the military for almost 10 years. Then I changed a bunch of jobs. There was even a time when I was building the Kerch Bridge. I did a lot of things. When the war broke out, I was in Russia, managing a factory warehouse. I had plenty of plans. I had a son to raise and wanted him to have a good life. He was my everything. I couldn't put up with him going to school and having to sit through “patriotism” classes. I never pretended I was above politics.

I was friends with [Navalny's] Anti-Corruption Foundation for a while. The Rostov branch. I never got properly involved because I'm not one for peaceful protest. They f*ck you up, and you just stand there smiling. That's not my thing.

The [full-scale] invasion of Ukraine didn't come as a shock. Rather, I felt a sort of second-hand shame that no one had done anything to stop it. As a former career officer, I was a member of military chat groups and saw that my officers knew where they were headed and what they were about to do. When they all say they “had no clue,” it's a lie.

But when a truly full-scale war began, everyone was f*cking floored. Each in their own way. Some were giddy with happiness that this was finally happening, others were simply taken aback. I administered a few town chats. Suddenly, they were overflowing with greetings, people expressing their happiness, hoping to see a victory parade in Kyiv. On the first day [of the full-scale war], attitudes varied, but most of the people I knew were thrilled, of course. Army commanders were happy by default because they thought, ever since Crimea, that their army was so great, capturing an entire peninsula without a shot. They were expecting the same scenario. They didn't know they were f*cked. Not until later. At first, everyone was content. Well, the majority. Some kept silent. I didn't know for sure where they stood. Early on, I said some things, but the authorities soon came up with all sorts of laws to shut us up.

As a former military officer, I knew I would be drafted. I even said at a parents' conference at school that if they grab me, I'll defect. I will not fight. I got booed, of course, but in a friendly way. When I got the summons, I decided right away that I had to defect to Ukraine's side. All I did in the Russian army was prepare to cross the frontline.

Handing me the summons, the military enlistment officer offered me a choice: either I sign a contract as a “volunteer” or they mobilize me and send me to a “hellhole.” With the contract, I could choose my military unit, he said. My wife is also liable to conscription. He showed me her file and hinted that if I did something wrong, they could make her life hell. So I said, “Okay, give me that contract.” Eventually, the commander sent me to an assault unit in Luhansk anyway. That is, you can't make a deal with them.

I spent 10 years in the Russian army. I know what it is and how it wages war. I had no intention to participate in the fighting. I didn't see the point in trying to escape either. So I stayed and did what harm I could.

What is the procedure for joining the Legion? I crossed the line of contact and said I wanted to join. They told me, “Okay then.” At first, the legion's policy was such that I didn't believe in its existence, even though I tried to contact them from the Russian side. It was absolutely nuts. I had to fill out a paper form and take a picture of it, and I was in a trench. But when I finally got here, I understood why. I can say for sure that we do exist.

I chose to show my face precisely because many in my hometown know me. I want them to see that we're real.

Crossing the border was a hassle. I got in touch with Ukrainian special services and the project ‘I Want to Live,’ and we came up with a plan. Building trust also took us a while. They asked me if I could bring two wounded fighters across. They were Ukrainians, stranded in the occupied territory in Luhansk. I said I would, even though it was risky. I got in a car, picked them up, and drove to the border. I gave them shovels so that we could pretend we were going to dig trenches, and found Russian uniforms for them. We crossed the border, lost our way for a while on a minefield, but finally made it. It was technically challenging, but we made it. The FSB [Federal Security Service] can't track everyone — there are too many of us. I wasn't exactly scared, but I was on edge. The FSB is nasty; it's best to avoid them. But if you do things right and exert caution, you'll be alright.

On the first days in the Legion's boot camp, they got me running around fields and firing ranges like a conscript. It's standard practice for any army — for most normal armies in the world, I think. Like all Ukrainian servicemen, we get our equipment from the army. Our training center runs exclusively on donations. As for vehicles, we get help from volunteers. There are a few specialized charities. Many Russians abroad are helping us.

The Ukrainian side pays more attention to training soldiers. The quality of the personnel is different. If you ask a Russian soldier what he's fighting for, he'll give you heaps of reasons. If you ask a Ukrainian soldier, he'll say he is defending his land. The motivation is simple, and it makes all the difference.

My motivation is to see my son grow up in a normal country. Russia is not a normal country at the moment, so he is in Ukraine. My entire family is here. Ukrainian special services brought them here and made sure everything was done right. The most important thing is to make Russia a normal country so that other people's sons could grow up in one. This is why I'm here.

My main responsibility is reconnaissance with the use of UAVs. We detect positions, help the artillery, and spot for them. We also have fighter UAVs and use them against detected targets. The work is simple, once you get the hang of it.

I haven't killed my countrymen. Not with an assault rifle, anyway. It's not my job. Our job is to find a target. The artillery engages and we guide them. Naturally, people die. It's war. They too have a choice. You either fight or defect, or you can contact ‘Get Lost’ and leave the combat zone. If you stay and keep fighting, well, your loss. You can get shot and killed.

In my Russian unit, only four out of some 200 troops have survived. They’re in the hospital. One has a leg missing, and another is also missing some body parts. The only person I might still meet on the battlefield is a colonel who sits in the headquarters. The rest are gone.

In the occupied Luhansk Region, I was about to be executed on two occasions, so I don't give much thought to death anymore. We don't get captured. None of us has. I'd rather get killed than surrender. I made this decision long ago. I know what happens to POWs on that side because I was in an assault unit. Especially since I'm with the Legion, it's best not to get captured under any circumstances. It's not an option.

[Victory for me is] first and foremost the victory of Ukraine. Second, it's putting an end to Putin and his FSB gang. Ideally, the Russians need to get mature enough to topple Putin. They need to make sure from the inside that our country doesn't wage wars. If they fail, we'll help. We'll see how it goes.

The most important thing is to stop the war, and then we will see what's next. Once it's done, I can start talking about my future goals. But the first thing to do is to end the war, and then we'll see.

“My country's soldiers are trying to kill me too. They can die”

Call sign “Seagull,” 27. UAV engineer.

I'm from Moscow. I studied engineering in college and taught computer classes to children. I was planning to go abroad. I realized that there was nothing for me in Russia and that the place was generally a swamp. I thought that, as an IT girl, I could try to go to Europe, to Poland. I started learning Polish. I did end up going toward Poland, in a way, but stopped halfway.

My first protest was a rally against the pension reform in 2018. I came and watched the Cossacks beating the protesters to a bloody snot with their whips. There was this realization that it was real — that it wasn’t just just a fairy tale told by [Alexei] Navalny, but something that's actually happening.

On the eve of the Feb. 24 invasion, something was clearly going on. I couldn't sleep until three in the morning. I wondered whether something would happen, but didn't know what it was. At seven, I woke up and opened the news, and there it was. In fact, it wasn't that scary, but it was unbearably painful. I went outside. I had to get to work — had a class to teach. I saw people going about their business, and I thought: “Actually, there is a war on. Are you okay with that? Is there anything you want to do about it?” And then, “I'm no better. I'm also going to work right now.”

Even before the war started, I found kindred spirits quite by accident. We tried to put up flyers. And we thought [shortly before Feb. 24, 2022] it was the time to start all sorts of anti-war protests. But we had no way of knowing that the war would start so soon. So on Feb. 24, we went together to Pushkinskaya Square. We stood there for 15 seconds or so, and then we were arrested. At about two in the morning, we left the police precinct, and in the morning I went to work again.

When Russian troops started pulling up to the Ukrainian border in November 2021, I thought: “If something happens now, I will go to Ukraine.” But when I faced this reality in February I wondered, “What kind of a soldier am I anyway? I've got nothing to do with the army — hell, I don't think I've been camping more than once. I'm a Moscow girl, creative class. What kind of soldier am I?” So in March 2022, I decided that I would try activism in Russia first. My friends and I toyed with various ideas: “Maybe we should go to the Belgorod region? There are railroad tracks there, and we could put something on them.”

But we never made it to the Belgorod Region — for a thousand reasons. First, we juggled work and studies with peaceful protests, arrests, and trials. You get the funny contrast of sitting in class in the morning and walking home late at night after leaving a cold police station.

Secondly, traveling to Belgorod and doing something takes money and time — and sabotage skills. I didn't have any. There were manuals, of course, but I wasn't sure that I could take care of all the details and not get caught by the FSB and spend the rest of my life in the basements of the Lubyanka [the FSB headquarters in Moscow].

The girls were hesitant to go all in. Perfectly understandable, to be honest. In my twenties, I was the oldest in the group — the others were 18-19. What do you mean Belgorod? What railroad tracks? In the spring, summer, and a little bit in the fall [of 2022] I did what I could to help Ukrainian refugees from the occupied territories who were going to Europe through Russia. I did all sorts of things: driving, running errands, finding accommodation, and recruiting more volunteers. I talked to the children who traveled with these refugees.

An 11-year-old kid told me: “Once we were at home, and a missile flew across the sky.” One becomes a radical very quickly in such a setting. I ended up thinking that it's hardly just athletes and Olympic champions going to war right now. Surely my engineering course, which I never completed, thanks to Putin, could come in handy in modern warfare. I applied to the Legion and joined.

Before the Legion, I spent some time abroad in the neighboring countries. I сhanged countries every two weeks. I didn't enter Ukraine from Russia and didn't have to walk over mines. Some of our guys went straight across the front lines. That's not how I did it.

I never told my relatives I'm in the Legion. All I said was that I went to Ukraine — that I'm a volunteer. It's not untrue, is it? For their safety, I decided it's best they don't know what I'm doing here. The fact that I'm in Ukraine is fine with them. Both of my parents are against the war, so there were no arguments.

At the Legion, I'm a fighter UAV engineer. These are kamikaze drones that fly around and destroy targets. My job is to make them fly the way they should, to make them explode. Little by little I learned the profession of drone pilot. When I configure a drone, I sort of participate in the kill. I haven't yet hit any personnel, but I've seen it happen. I was in position, with a drone pilot sitting next to me, and he killed people.

When the regular army of the Russian Federation entered Ukraine, I was genuinely happy that Ukrainian troops were destroying Russian forces, who are no better than terrorists who stage subway bombings. No one feels sorry for a terrorist, whether he is Russian or not. Ukrainian soldiers are defending their country. They could have remained civilians if there had been no war. They have families and lives to go back to, and my country's army is killing them for no reason. My country's army is trying to kill me as well. So I have an extremely positive attitude to their deaths. Let them die.

I remember an acquaintance of mine who posted stories from Mariupol in March 2022 on Instagram: “And this one has hit Azovstal.” I was thinking, “Dude, I see. I hope we cross paths one day.”

I try to keep my stuff in order so that if I get killed, no one has to deal with my mess. So far, unfortunately, I have not written what to do in the event of my death. Going to the Legion, I thought, “The useless life of a useless Russian girl. What's it good for?” Paradoxically, once I was here, I began to appreciate my life much more. I love myself a lot more, and I don't want to die. I'd like to stay alive. And then we'll see.

I certainly don't want to be a prisoner. Russian captivity for a Russian woman on the Ukrainian side? No thanks. I'd rather blow myself up or shoot myself.

Victory in this war will come if the Russian army capitulates and retreats to the 1991 borders. Ideally, this would entail the fall of the Putin regime. But even if he stays and Ukraine becomes free, it will still be a victory. However, it would be wonderful if Putin would also leave with Russia's surrender.

When I applied to the Legion, I thought that this scary, muddled swamp I crawled out of could burn and turn to ashes, and I would go and face responsibility for my country's actions in Ukraine. Over time I realized that I actually love Russia. It's my home, and I want the best for this country. I want to kick out the terrorists in power. I want to come home and live there. And I want people, my like-minded friends, and thousands, millions like them, to lead a life of freedom.

Ukrainians and Russians have different agendas and different countries. It would be interesting to live in my country with people who see things the way I do and understand what I'm talking about. And then there's my sudden infatuation with Russian folklore — it's hard to follow that passion in Ukraine. Of course, there are books, videos, and broadcasts from the Russian Ethnographic Museum. But it would be fun to see it with my own eyes and meet the researchers who study it. I'd love to visit the ethnographic museum in the town of Totma near Vologda, instead of reading about it on Google.

“The only way to wash away the shame of a full-scale invasion is with weapons in hand”

Call sign “Caesar,” 50. The Legion's deputy commander for civil-military cooperation.

I didn't start fighting the regime yesterday. Some 15-17 years ago I realized that Putin's regime would be the end of Russia. When Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, as a citizen who feels responsible for his country and its actions, I understood that I could only wash away this shame with weapons in hand. The recent developments in Syria have shown that if you do things the right way and if the people support the rebels, it is not so difficult to topple tyranny, even one that has existed for decades.

We are volunteers. Everyone is well aware of the risks they are taking. Our unit is often used in situations where we need to stop the enemy quickly and do a lot of damage. During these two and a half years, we have contributed to many key operations on the front line. For one, this year we fought both in Toretsk and near Horlivka. We were near Avdiivka, too. Whenever our fighters meet our comrades in arms from the AFU, there are hugs, handshakes, the warmest words, and an exchange of unit patches. We've already gone down in history, as loud as that sounds.

I've got plenty of war stories. Once, in Toretsk, I was almost shot by a sniper. As we moved into position, we realized they were waiting for us, but we had to support our infantry. I knew approximately where the enemy was and where they would fire from. I knelt and began to set up the mortar. Suddenly I heard a machine gun burst, five or six seconds long, and in the middle of that string, there was a sniper rifle shot. That's how a sniper usually disguises his work. At that moment, there was a powerful gust of wind. It pushed the bullet off its trajectory, and it flew at my chest level literally half a meter away. If it hadn't been for the wind, I'd be dead. This was further proof to me that the element of chance is very great in war: he who is destined to burn will not drown.

As a participant in the operation on the territory of my homeland, I can say: when we entered Novaya Tavolzhanka, the enemy saw us, and two full packages of Grads — 40 missiles each — flew at us at once. Then the artillery engaged. That is, Putin's troops do not care what they destroy, be it [Ukraine's] Bakhmut and Avdiivka, or [Russia's own] Sudzha and Novaya Tavolzhanka. Their mission is to destroy us at all costs. They didn't care that they could kill Russian civilians. Putin doesn't give a damn about his population. Besides, we were distracted by the need to help locals — Russian civilians. We hid in basements and cellars with women and children.

The purpose of the operation on Russian territory? First, reconnaissance. We wanted to see how the enemy would react. Second, the distraction of forces. Early last year, for example, there was an 800-kilometer section of the Russian-Ukrainian border that was barely covered by enemy forces. Meanwhile, the AFU had to keep a significant contingent everywhere because the invasion could start at any minute and from any direction. In this respect, we have very much weakened the enemy, forcing Russia to move tens of thousands of troops and hundreds of vehicles to fortify its border.

Next, we made an important political statement. We showed that Russian volunteers with weapons in their hands can succeed, albeit in local operations. One example was our first operation near [Russia's] Grayvoron, where we went to the enemy's rear. When the reserves began to cut us off, we retreated, but we pulled a very large enemy force towards us — they were forced to move troops even from the Luhansk Region, where fighting was fierce at the time. They all began to pull up to Grayvoron, like ants to wet sugar. And the Legion's artillery was doing a great job, inflicting very significant losses on them.

That's where we saw that goofy Colonel General Lapin, who manually led a regiment into an assault and even drove an entire infantry fighting vehicle — by himself. I thought he was funny. This shows the level of degradation of the Russian command and a complete lack of understanding that a colonel general who is responsible for tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of troops, should not be running around waving his arms and leading a small group of motorized riflemen.

One culprit is responsible for all the problems in Russia’s border regions: his name is Putin. There are always collateral civilian casualties in war, even if we try to avoid them as much as possible, but we need to remember who started it and who is responsible for all these losses. If Putin withdraws his troops from Ukraine tomorrow, all problems for the residents of the border territories will stop instantly.

You can't fight a war with your hands tied behind your back. Ukraine must and will strike at Russian territory to weaken the aggressor's offensive potential as much as possible. As for assistance to the population of Ukraine, the Armed Forces of Ukraine, and the Legion in particular: every hryvnia, every euro, every dollar invested in the AFU and the Legion brings our victory and a just peace closer and reduces the number of innocent victims of Russian aggression. So support the Legion as much as possible so that a real lasting peace can come sooner.

For me, victory is the fall of Putin's regime. Not Putin personally, but the demolition of his entire system, so that every region can start its life with a clean slate and decide how it will build relations with the federal center and whether it wants to remain part of our common state or choose its own way. Nothing good can be built on violence and coercion. Our initial task is to mow down Putin's tyranny.

To be honest, I'm afraid of [death]. I want to stay alive. I want to play with my grandchildren. I want to sit on the shore of my beloved Black Sea in my sweet native Sochi. But some things are higher than personal preferences and desires. I am a man of duty. I have a duty of honor to the people of Ukraine, to protect them from the aggression of my crazy compatriots. I have a duty to the people of Russia to free them from Putin's tyranny.

I feel very perfectly at ease in Ukraine — especially since I'm here to defend this country. And I can look Ukrainians in the eye without remorse. I have nothing to be ashamed of. But my homeland is Russia. If I live, I'll go back and will do everything to make Russia a civilized state — one that minds its own business instead of pestering its neighbors with its rusty junk.

WARNING: The FSB creates fake Freedom of Russia Legion channels in Telegram, provokes users into joining them, and arrests them.

The real Legion channel is here.