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Desertion or provocation? That is the question on many minds in Lithuania after a Russian national disappeared on June 17 from a Kaliningrad transit train while it was passing through the Suwałki Corridor.
It was early Tuesday morning when the attendant of a train traveling from Russia to the Kaliningrad exclave noticed that one of the train doors was open. It shouldn’t have been — on these Russian transit trains carrying Russian citizens, the doors are supposed to remain closed. The train is meant to be under surveillance and security for good reason.
According to a 2003 agreement between Russia, Lithuania, and the European Union, Russian transit trains passing through Lithuania often transport unarmed soldiers to Kaliningrad. Russian soldiers are allowed to transit Lithuania, but only onboard trains.
With just 25 minutes remaining before reaching the border, an alarm was raised when it was discovered that 21-year-old Danil M. was missing — a young man of conscription age who may have been attempting to avoid military service. Two days of intensive searching have yielded no results. As authorities investigate what happened and why, several troubling theories have emerged.
The idea that Russian soldiers traveling through Lithuania could cause problems has never been purely theoretical. Since the 1990s, there have been multiple instances of soldiers escaping from transit trains. Some were drunk, others sought to evade military service, but most lacked a clear plan and were eventually caught.
However, since Russia's 2014 invasion of Ukraine, Lithuanian authorities have been seriously considering scenarios in which Russian soldiers might jump from transit trains with the intent to provoke an incident—or worse, initiate the first phase of an armed attack. These scenarios have been rehearsed with rapid response teams, and EU funds have been used to acquire equipment for train monitoring and security.
As recently as April, Lithuania’s border guard service deployed two new helicopters for continuous surveillance of the transit trains. Critics argued that specialized drones and other surveillance systems would have been more suitable and cost-effective for the task.
But the reality proved far more banal. On Tuesday, the helicopter only took off after the escape had already occurred. Lithuanian Interior Minister Vladislavas Kondratovičius speculated that the man may have jumped when the train slowed down. These trains are notoriously slow in curves, especially in southern Lithuania—through the vulnerable Suwałki Corridor.
The escapee may have known this, accepted the risk, and taken the opportunity—Russian media reports suggest he may have previously worked in the railway sector. Yet it remains unclear how no one noticed him jumping off. Any failure in the monitoring system is a potential vulnerability—one that could eventually be exploited.
“These trains must be watched with the utmost attention. This is no joke—we’re talking about potential sabotage teams,” said Laurynas Kasčiūnas, a former defense minister and influential member of the national security and defense committee.
And while border officials confirmed that the escapee was “clean”—meaning he had no prior violent offenses or legal issues that would have barred him from boarding the transit train—a provocation cannot be ruled out.
Even the presumed motive—that Danil M. was “looking for a better place to live” and trying to avoid military service and deployment to Ukraine—is not seen as sufficient explanation by local authorities. History has left them wary.
It may be coincidence, but this escape occurred almost exactly 85 years after a similar series of incidents in which Soviet soldiers disappeared on Lithuanian territory. By then, nearly 20,000 Soviet troops had been stationed in Lithuania under a “mutual assistance treaty,” and some deserted their units.
In early June 1940, while the Nazis were marching into Paris, Moscow used the case of missing Sergeant Butayev as a pretext to escalate: he was reported kidnapped and murdered, and his body was found shot. Although a joint investigation later proved that Butayev had taken his own life after deserting and visiting a prostitute, the details didn’t matter.
In classic Kremlin fashion, the incident became the pretext for an ultimatum to Lithuania—demanding the government’s resignation and the arrest of ministers allegedly responsible for the Soviet soldier’s death, or face invasion. Lithuania capitulated, and Soviet tanks rolled in to occupy the country.
So if that served as a pretext for invasion then, why couldn’t a similar provocation be attempted now—especially given Moscow’s history of blunt, coercive tactics?
This question is being taken seriously, at least behind closed doors. In 2022, President Vladimir Putin angrily raised the issue of rail transit when Lithuania came under diplomatic pressure and a disinformation campaign accusing it of trying to “blockade Kaliningrad.”
At the time, Russia’s fury centered on sanctions affecting the transit of certain goods. Without clear EU support, Lithuania’s government backtracked from strict enforcement of those sanctions. What will happen next time?
The story of the missing Russian citizen could end like many others—with detention, a small administrative fine (around €80–€300), and deportation. But officials warn that if Moscow had—or develops—malicious intent, there is always the risk of provocation and rapid escalation.