SAPPER'S MONOLOGUE ⟩ Ukraine Has to Defend Itself with American Mines from the 1940s

If someone grumbles about how hard their life has become because of the war, I invite them to step onto the front lines—only then will they truly understand what hardship means.

Every war brings chaos, looting, someone making a fortune and strutting around in silk from morning till night. It’s always been like this. We have to first defeat the enemy here and then go defeat the enemy there. (Points over his shoulder).

On Ceding Ukrainian Territory

Does something need to change in Ukraine? Of course, the mentality of the Ukrainian people does. Thirty percent are giving their lives for Ukraine, 20 percent are profiting from it, and 50 percent are waiting to see how it ends.

When asked whether Ukraine should surrender the territories already occupied, some are already willing to do so. Unsurprisingly, these are often people with no family members fighting in the war. So, what are we even discussing? Why should their opinions carry weight? Eleven members of my family have fought; now, only five remain. Two went missing in Bakhmut—one was my uncle, the other my cousin. My brother-in-law was killed in Chasiv Yar in March.

What would my answer be to the question? If we lose, the Russians will start executing us one by one. We’ve killed so many of them here, they won’t forgive that if we lose. Of course, my answer is “no,” because I’m fighting, and I’ll keep fighting. The “yes” comes from those sitting far away, not wearing 20-kilogram (44-pound) flak jackets like the ones we wore at the start of the war.

On Morale at the Front

Apathy has risen sharply. You can see it yourself—we walk around here [7-8 kilometers from the front line] without bulletproof vests, wearing shorts, even though bombs are falling constantly. We’re all just tired. If you hear a whistle, something’s coming close. If it starts shaking, it’s very close. But if it’s coming for you, you won’t hear a thing—just a bang, and that’s it. (Laughs.)

One day, I was sleeping, and a KAB (a powerful Russian glide bomb) dropped nearby. I fell out of bed. I realized it was a KAB, but what can you do? I climbed back into bed and went back to sleep. Another one dropped later. I’m telling you, the level of apathy is enormous now. Even fear doesn’t work anymore. Your instincts just dull. Everything, even the survival instinct.

Three weeks ago, one of our positions was surrounded. We had radio contact with them. We told them, “You’re surrounded, 360 degrees.” They responded, “OK, wake us up when you come to get us.” It was like that—two guys were shooting back, but two were sleeping. They were so tired. But they were rescued.

I want to get a tattoo that says, “It’s not a sin to be afraid. The sin is abandoning your own.” I’m not angry at civilians, but I feel like we’ve been abandoned.

Has there really been no one in two and a half years who could come and replace me or him or him? (Points to the grim-faced men sitting nearby). Society has abandoned us. They’re just watching while we fight for life and death here. And then we hear, “Fight, fight for your representatives!” Go to hell! Sometimes I even wish the Russians would come to visit some of those persons cheering from a safe distance.

On Defensive Lines

We’re going underground. We should have done it long ago. [In the villages on the front line], we’re digging tunnels from one house’s basement to the next and then to the next. That’s how we move. But honestly, the Russians are way ahead of us in this.

They can dig in one night what takes us several days. We simply don’t have the manpower. We don’t have enough [people] for anything. They bring in 50, 100 men just to dig. They dig like moles. We’re on the front line during the day, and then at night, we dig for five hours. The men are just breaking down, they can’t take it anymore. It’s a complete disaster!

There aren’t really any positions like before. We sit in basements. Those are our positions. Two or three men are there. It’s pointless to keep 20 men [under fire] at the front. When we see on the drones that they’re coming, reinforcements go in. Otherwise, they’ll all be obliterated by artillery and KABs. And honestly, there’s hardly anyone left to send there.

We’ve got assault groups made up of men over 50. A 52-year-old has to go on the attack. Are you kidding? I’m 33, and I’m not even fit for assault anymore. I’ve been wounded three times. This 52-year-old is new, someone they sent to us. They [those sending new recruits] just don’t understand what they’re doing.

On Brigade Rotations

The problem isn’t that we don’t know how to rotate (Dmytro is referring to the fact that the Russian army often successfully attacks when Ukrainian brigades are rotating at the front). The problem is that we don’t have anyone to rotate. My battalion is currently at 40 percent of its listed strength. And that means we’re doing relatively well. How do you rotate with that?

If you pull the 79th [Air Assault] Brigade (which has been stationed in the Marinka-Kurakhove direction since the full-scale war began) from our sector, the newcomers will mess everything up. Completely. It’s like that everywhere.

When we (referring to the 95th Airborne Brigade, where he previously served) were stationed in the Serebriansky Forest (between Sievierodonetsk and Lyman, on the Donetsk and Luhansk regional border), they pulled us out and brought in a new brigade. It ended with us being brought back after just four days to launch an assault and retake our former positions ourselves.

On New Recruits

Where are the new men, the newly mobilized? Don’t ask me! We don’t have any here, that’s for sure. All my men have been wounded. At least two or three times, some four or five. Half are on injections. They take a shot of Diclofenac (a strong painkiller) and go out to complete their tasks. They’re just holding on through sheer willpower. Look at Pootsman! (A soldier with the call sign “Pootsman” has 36 shrapnel wounds, most of which haven’t been removed from his body. He regularly injects himself with painkillers). Why does he still have to fight? What the hell!

The last reinforcement we received was five men at the beginning of the summer. We usually get new [soldiers] from assault groups in the airborne units. Those who are "300s" (wounded) and can’t go on assaults anymore, but they’re good for us to mine and dig.

I’ll say this: if someone is genuinely ill, they shouldn’t be here. Volunteers (referring to army volunteer helpers) shouldn’t be here. But look at how many men are in the gyms. Especially in Dnipro. They should be sent here immediately! Let them train themselves here, show us their form. Look at us, we’re all concussed multiple times and wounded—what kind of soldiers are we anymore? But we have to [fight].

On Targeting Ukrainian Logistics

It’s a complete disaster, what’s happening in Kurakhove (a town 7-8 kilometers from the front line). We come here to rest a bit, but they keep pounding us with KABs. They hit us with Uragans (powerful multiple rocket launchers) with cluster munitions. We can’t rest at all, and it’s really demoralizing the men. The worst was 12 Uragans and six KABs. All in one day! All at once, in a row!

They’re just destroying Kurakhove. If they come any closer, they’ll just wipe it off the map. It’s a given that Kurakhove will be leveled.

Right now, the closest battle support units suffer even more than the front line. They’re trying to destroy our logistics. They know that our logistics aren’t great. Our logistics are weak, let’s be honest.

They’re also dropping 1.5-ton KABs. The craters they leave are so big that if you fall into one on the front line, you’re not getting out under constant fire.

On Russian Tactics

They came from Novomykhailivka, 1.5 kilometers away. At night, their equipment came in from Makiivka [a suburb of Donetsk], and early in the morning, they attacked.

They brought powerful electronic warfare equipment (which prevents drones from flying). It jammed everything, our reconnaissance drones couldn’t fly there. We couldn’t do reconnaissance, we didn’t see that they were gathering such a force. They gathered 200 men there over a week. They came quietly, four or five men at a time, hiding in the cellars in Novomykhailivka.

(Dmytro is referring to the events of July 24, when the Russian army launched one of its largest recent attacks. There were 29 assault waves in half a day, involving 11 tanks, 46 armored vehicles, and other equipment on the Russian side. Some of the equipment was blown up by the mines laid by Kot’s battalion and the 79th Brigade, while others were destroyed by the 79th Brigade soldiers. In total, six Russian tanks, seven armored vehicles, and 40 Russian soldiers were destroyed. Over six months, the 79th Brigade has destroyed over 300 units of Russian military equipment in the Kurakhove direction while defending).

Of course, Ukraine should withdraw from the Ottawa Convention [which bans the use of anti-personnel mines]. I strongly recommend Estonia do the same (Estonia joined the convention in 2004 and Ukraine in 2005). The Russian army is currently using manpower against us, not skill. Anti-personnel mines would be a huge help when you have to fend off their attacks with just three or four men.

During the last offensive, there were seven waves of attacks. Anyone who hasn’t lived through that will never understand what it means, what the men had to endure. Their goal is simply to wear us down to death. To make sure all the men are "200s" (killed) or 300s (wounded) and that our ammunition runs out.

If we used anti-personnel mines, things would be much better. Their assault waves wouldn’t be anything like they are now. Even our current minefields are holding them back significantly. Now imagine if we covered it all with anti-personnel mines too. Right now, of course, we don’t use [anti-personnel mines]. It’s forbidden.

On Sappers’ Work

We have problems with mines.  Our anti-tank mines are from 1943, 1941, 1947, even 1939. American made. They don’t give us anything new. These outdated mines are good, but old. Just repainted. They were sand-colored, now they’re green. M-15s actually work very well. They have 15 kilos (33 pounds) of explosives. (M-15s are American anti-tank mines widely used during the Korean War in the 1950s. The U.S. still has large stockpiles of them). The French mines we have are from 1949.

And just imagine the sapper who takes two of these over 15-kilo (33-pound) mines and has to walk two or three kilometers [to the front line]. At night. You can’t work during the day [because of drones]. He’s also carrying his own gear. Sappers cover 18-20 kilometers (11-12 miles) a night. At times during the summer, it was over 25 degrees Celsius (77 degrees Fahrenheit) at night. But everyone understands that the work needs to be done.

On Fundraising for the Army

After the rocket attack on [Kyiv’s largest children’s hospital] Ohmatdyt, a fundraiser was held for 200 million hryvnias. To rebuild the hospital. (The July 8 Russian missile attack on Ukraine’s largest children’s hospital, Ohmatdyt, killed 27 people, including four children, according to the UN). That money was raised in about four hours. But why is it that when an ordinary soldier holds a fundraiser for an absolutely necessary item on the front, it’s rare to see donations anymore?

I have a question for my fellow Ukrainians: Are you only willing to give money when a great tragedy strikes, but reluctant to contribute to the cause of defeating Russian soldiers, securing victory, and preventing such tragedies in the first place? Wouldn’t it have been wiser to raise that 200 million for something like FPVs (suicide drones)?

The truth is, many no longer care about our soldiers. People are beginning to believe this war doesn’t concern them. But it does—profoundly. When a Russian tank rolls down your street, you’ll be left with no options but to fall to your knees before the driver, do whatever he demands, and beg for your life.

On What’s Next

I don’t know what will happen next. As long as we can stand, we’ll stand. As long as we’re alive, we’ll stand.

If I die, at least I’ll know what for. For my land, for my children. To be honest, I’m not fighting here for our country, I’m fighting for my family.

In the summer of 2022, it was hard here [in the Donetsk region], but now it’s much harder. We’re not getting any help at all.

After the war, the main thing for our soldiers will be to break the habit of moving into empty houses. (On the front line, Ukrainian soldiers often live in abandoned houses. If possible, they often contact the owners and notify them. Some even pay rent honestly). And to stop marking cars with plus signs. (The plus sign on vehicles is a Ukrainian military symbol, like the letter Z on Russian army vehicles).

And not to write “Occupied” on fences at home. (Sometimes soldiers write this on the fence of an abandoned house they live in so that other units don’t try to take the same house). One guy already wrote it on his fence at home while on leave. He wanted to make a joke. (Laughs.)

If I survive this war, I’ll return to Donbas just once, to show my children where it all happened. After that, I’ll never set foot here again. The atmosphere is so heavy, you can feel it as soon as you cross the sign marking the start of Donetsk region. It’s impossible for an ordinary person to fathom how many lives have been lost beyond that sign—young lives, 21-year-olds, 19-year-olds, even 18-year-olds. So many... Damn, if only people knew!

That’s precisely why we can’t give Donetsk region to the Russians—because we have to honor and remember our fallen heroes here. If we lose, we’ll erase their struggle, their heroism. That’s the most painful thing—if we lose, then what did our guys give their lives for?