Latest news with #InternationalLegion
NZ Herald
12 hours ago
- Politics
- NZ Herald
‘You don't want to go there': Ron Mark's message to Kiwis wanting to take up arms against Russia in Ukraine
Other phone calls come from closer to home: New Zealanders – including civilians and current or former New Zealand Defence Force (NZDF) soldiers - considering joining the International Legion. Mark knows the reality of the risks: he's visited the front line during three trips to Ukraine. He said his regular response to those keen to fight is 'think again'. Former Minister of Defence Ron Mark has had many harrowing phone calls with Kiwis serving with the Ukraine International Legion, and those considering it. Photo / Neil Reid 'I keep saying to people, 'You don't want to go there... I don't care how many tours of Afghanistan you did... you didn't do this',' he told the New Zealand Herald. One soldier, who Mark couldn't dissuade from travelling to Ukraine, talked of how the NZDF had provided him with a skill and he wanted to 'offer that skill to Ukraine'. Mark estimates there are dozens of New Zealanders who - like the soldier he encouraged not to head to Ukraine - have signed up with the International Legion. Some have now been there fighting for three years. Mark told the Herald it's 'astonishing' some of them are still alive. Mark said they fell into three categories; those with some military experience, others with extensive experience - and others with no military experience at all. 'Some of them have gone through some pretty harrowing, horrible s***,' he said. Ron Mark has visited Ukraine three times since it was invaded by Russia. New Zealand Herald composite photograph Several legionnaires have returned to New Zealand to recover from injuries, then returned to Ukraine to continue to fight, he said. At least four New Zealanders are known to have died in the European nation since Russia invaded in February 2022: three soldiers - Dominic Abelen, Kane Te Tai and Shan-Le Kearns - and one aid worker, Andrew Bagshaw. Mark said 'considerably more' Kiwis have been maimed on the battlefields. Shan-le Kearns, 26, is the fourth New Zealander and most recent known to have died in Ukraine. Photo / Supplied Members of the International Legion are paid at the same rate as soldiers in the Ukraine Army; $840 a month behind the frontline, $2000 a month for service in a 'dangerous zone' and $7500 a month for a full combat deployment. Compensation is given to those who suffer life-changing injuries; the amount depending on the severity. Former New Zealand Army soldiers Dominic Abelen (left) and Kane Te Tai (right) both lost their lives fighting in Ukraine. Photo / Supplied When proof of death is confirmed – requiring the return of a body or body part for DNA testing - families of soldiers killed in action can receive a compensation payment of $615,000. 'Let me assure you, they are not doing it for the money,' Mark said. Mark said his experience of the Ukrainian military is that they mourn the loss of Kiwis on the frontlines as if they were locals. Russian leader Vladimir Putin shakes hands with US president Donald Trump during the latest round of talks. Photo / Getty Images 'They serve loyally and faithfully,' Mark said of the Kiwi contingent. 'I felt like a failure; it hurt' Mark was outraged when Russian President Vladimir Putin ordered Russia's invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022 - but it was a month later when his interest was piqued. He fielded a phone call from Ukraine. On the other end was Owen Pomana; a former New Zealand Navy diver deported from Australia as a 501 convict. He had abandoned drug abuse and crime for a life of faith and become a church pastor. New Zealand pastor Owen Pomana, right, headed to Ukraine shortly after Russia invaded. Photo / Supplied Pomana had travelled to Ukraine to take up a humanitarian role with Great Commission Society (GCS) an evangelical organisation that provides aid to victims of conflict and disaster around the world. He wanted Mark to help lobby the New Zealand Government for body armour and helmets to be given to unarmed aid workers going into conflict zones. Owen Pomana - in front of a shelled building in Ukraine - rang Ron Mark for help with aid missions. Photo / Supplied That attempt failed, and so too did an effort to get the Government to pay for charter buses to speed up mass evacuations from Mariupol into Romania. Pomana and his colleagues had to face the heartbreaking reality of leaving behind many who wanted to escape the bloody battle. 'I felt like a failure. And it hurt,' Mark said. 'I couldn't understand how it could be so hard, why people wouldn't lean in.' Ron Mark says he felt like he had failed when he couldn't get transport for Owen Pomana. Photo / Neil Reid The frustration unleashed a desire within Mark to do more. His first trip to Ukraine was just three months after the Russian invasion. His second was in July 2022. All three of his trips to Ukraine have been self-funded during annual leave from his role as mayor of Carterton. He juggled fact-finding with helping out on aid delivery for the Rapid Relief Team – created by the brethren church in Australia – and GCS. It was work that took him to some of the conflict's frontlines. Ukraine's defensive lines in Donetsk have held against recent pressure from Russian forces. Photo / Getty Images His travels with aid convoys took him to Bucha – scene of the mass murder of civilians and prisoners of war, and past bombed-out locations near Kharkiv, including large 'shell holes' and scenes of 'devastation and utter demolition of villages'. On one occasion his military escort was a soldier who wasted no time in laying out the risks - telling Mark 'the Russians are in line of sight. They have line of sight on us at this location' he said. A layer of light steel had been added to the interior of the doors of the vans – carrying thousands of meals and several aid workers – in a bid to slow shrapnel or bullets that may pass through them. 'It wouldn't stop bugger all, but it made you feel good,' Mark said. A civilian vehicle in the city of Irpin peppered with hundreds of bullet holes. Photo / Olena Kalashnikova They were living in homes with roofs that were either partially collapsed or had shell-fire damage. On a shelf at the Carterton house Mark shares with his partner, Chris Tracey, are pieces of twisted, jagged shrapnel the former MP recovered from his trips to the frontlines. 'They're just to remind me of the craziness and the bravery and the dedication of some impressive people whose names will never be known to anyone' he said. The tail section of a Russian rocket in the Donbas region. Photo / supplied 'Four Māori walk into a bar in Kyiv' Humour can cut through the darkest of circumstances. During Mark's last trip to Ukraine, in July, he met three fellow māori New Zealanders for a beer in Kyiv: Pomana, a surgeon who has been in Ukraine for three years, and a NZDF-trained sniper. The surgeon is doing life-saving work, Mark said. 'Kiwis tend to side with the underdog. I always believe that Kiwis will always line up with what they believe to be right and against what they believe to be wrong.' Kiwi aid worker Andrew Bagshaw tragically lost his life trying to help others. Photo / Sebastian Polarchski Mark said their commitment reminds him of those who volunteered to fight in WWI and WWII. '[Colonising] might be a popular word right now. But I saw the physical signs of the Russians trying to eliminate Ukrainian language. I saw the road signs that had all been painted over and stencilled over the top with the Russian wording, the Russian language. 'Stories about them kidnapping children, taking them away to concentration camps where they're going to be re-educated in the Russian way. 'Because of that, it doesn't surprise me how many Māori are over there. It's probably an equal number of Pākehā to Māori.' Ukrainian territorial defence soldiers from the Donetsk Oblast fire D-20 artillery in the direction of Toretsk, Photo / Getty Images Amass drone strike - at least 550 drones loaded with explosives - hit areas of Kyiv near Mark's Airbnb while he was on a FaceTime call with his partner, Chris Tracey, back in Carterton. 'Chris said, 'Why do they attack at night'. I said, 'Terror babe, it's just terror'. There were times when he moved his mattress from the street-front room and slept in the hallway where he felt safer from drones and missiles. A civilian apartment block damaged in a mass drone attack in Kyiv. Photo / Getty Images On other occasions he took shelter in the Kyiv underground train system, surrounded by families. 'Imagine 10 o'clock at night, you've already got the kids in bed, and you don't have your husband because he's on the frontline, and you may have elderly families staying with you,' he said. 'Imagine bundling all that up - bedding, sleeping bags, bundling up bedrolls and children and the cat and the dog and in one case, a little girl wanted to take a goldfish, herding them out the door. When the air raid alarms go off, you've got to move. 'You look around and you see families setting up their own little family space.' When Mark travels to Ukraine his partner Chris Tracey faces a nervous wait. Tracey said she was '1000% proud' of her partner and the pair have discussed what should happen back home if he dies. The profile of former Defence Minister Ron Mark added to a website that lists those deemed by "patriots" of Russia to be enemies of the state. Photo / Supplied 'He's passionate about the guys and the girls that are over there, who are working hard and putting their lives at risk every day. Tracey said there was no point in her being scared and worried. 'There's no part of me that would ever say to him, 'I don't want you to go, please don't go'.' 'I wouldn't want him going over there feeling like he was not taking good care of me, or that he was leaving me in that kind of mindset. Chris Tracey says she is incredibly proud of her partner, former Minister of Defence Ron Mark for what he is trying to do for Ukraine. Photo / Supplied She said Mark always gave her the credentials of those he would spend time with in Ukraine, planned well and was not one to take unnecessary risks. Mark is also well aware the fact he is a former Minister of Defence visiting Ukraine – and supporting their cause – had the potential to cause embarrassment to Russia. Last week the Herald revealed he had been targeted by a website created by Russian 'patriots' that publishes profiles on enemies of the country and warns 'Know that your hostile actions will not go unpunished'. Ron Mark and his partner Chris Tracey have had honest conversations about the risk in Ukraine, and what should happen if something happens to the former Minister of Defence while in the war-torn country. Photo / Supplied 'I'm not blind to the dangers I face the moment I indicate I am going to Ukraine,' Mark said. 'I think Chris knows me well enough to know that once I have a mind to do something, it's a question of how I'm going to do it - not if.' Neil Reid is a Napier-based senior reporter who covers general news, features and sport. He joined the Herald in 2014 and has 33 years of newsroom experience. Sign up to The Daily H, a free newsletter curated by our editors and delivered straight to your inbox every weekday.
Telegraph
12-07-2025
- Politics
- Telegraph
A British soldier was found dead in a Ukrainian reservoir with his hands tied. Nobody will say why
Ever since Vladimir Putin's tanks rolled into Ukraine, a patch of lawn in Kyiv's Independence Square has served as a makeshift memorial to the nation's war dead. On it are planted tens of thousands of tiny flags, each put there in honour of a fallen soldier. Amid the sea of blue and yellow are Union Jacks, Stars and Stripes and European tricolours. They honour volunteers who came to fight for Ukraine's International Legion – and who paid the ultimate price. Not everyone who is remembered there, though, died gloriously in combat. One flag that has fluttered since 2023 commemorates Jordan Chadwick, a volunteer from Burnley in Lancashire. Aged 31, he was a former member of the Scots Guards, a regiment with a fighting history stretching back nearly four centuries. Their motto, Nemo me Impune Lacessit, translates as 'No one assails me with impunity'. Tragically, however, that seems to have been exactly how Chadwick met his end. On 24 June 2023, Chadwick was found lying dead in a reservoir outside Kramatorsk, a city in eastern Ukraine that lies close to the Donbas front line. In a part of the country that is repeatedly hit by indiscriminate Russian missile fire, such grisly discoveries aren't unknown, but Chadwick's death was no random act from afar. His hands were tied behind his back, and his body had been in the water for no more than a day or two. Someone, it seemed, had taken him prisoner before killing him and trying to hide his corpse – unaware, perhaps, that the reservoir was still fished by local anglers, who found his body in a reed bed close to the shore. Who, though, would do such a thing, and why? Had he been captured by Russian troops, not best known for their respect for the Geneva Conventions? Or, as many now believe, was he killed not by enemy forces at all, but by fellow Legionnaires? Last month marked the second anniversary of Chadwick's death, since when a lot has changed in Ukraine. The much-vaunted counter-offensive that he was taking part in that summer, which the West hoped might halt Putin's invasion for good, petered out with little success. Today, it is Russian forces that are gaining ground around the Donbas, moving ever closer to Kramatorsk. Yet the circumstances of his death remain as murky as the water he was found in. 'Everyone has a different theory,' one volunteer told me. 'But those who really know don't want to talk about it.' That much I have also learnt, having spent the last three years reporting from Ukraine for The Telegraph, and also writing a book about the Legion's role in the war. During that time I have interviewed scores of Legionnaires about their experiences – some on front lines, some in bases, bars and hospital wards. Many of their stories sound like an Andy McNab novel on steroids, with battles that make Afghanistan and Iraq seem like child's play. Amid the tales of heroism, however, there is a darker, less-talked-about side to life in the Legion, which has proved to be a magnet for hotheads and ne'er-do-wells. As some volunteers only half-joke, the people they watch out for most in Ukraine are not the Russians, but fellow Legionnaires. Few are willing to talk openly about Chadwick's death, even though these are not men who take fright easily. Storming a Russian trench position is one thing. Speaking out about former comrades quite another, bringing a risk of reprisals – or, if nothing else, a break from an unofficial volunteers' code that 'what happens in Ukraine, stays in Ukraine'. It is a far cry from the lofty tones evoked by President Zelensky when he announced the Legion's creation on the third day of the invasion, a time when Russian victory seemed all but inevitable. Describing it as 'the beginning of a war against Europe, against democracy, against basic human rights', he invited anyone with military experience to join the fight. Within weeks, Kyiv officials claimed, more than 20,000 people had applied. Many saw themselves following in the footsteps of George Orwell, who fought as a Republican volunteer in the Spanish Civil War. But a significant minority were fantasists, misfits and ex-criminals, often fleeing troubled pasts. The bad apples sullied the Legionnaires' reputation in the eyes of Ukrainian commanders, who either shunned them, or used them as cannon fodder. That led to many volunteers forming their own independent fighting units –which, while technically part of the Legion, were effectively self-run militias, with little by way of formal command or discipline structures. Some also prided themselves in taking on extremely dangerous missions, at which even their Ukrainian counterparts might baulk. The 50/50 Assault Group, the unit that Chadwick joined, was a case in point. Composed of a couple of dozen mainly British and American fighters, it specialised in hardcore combat – its name a reference to the risks its members ran of death or injury. In 2023 the unit was serving in the Donbas city of Bakhmut, the fiercest battle of the entire war. When reports of Chadwick's death first emerged that summer, many Legionnaires assumed he had been taken prisoner by Russian troops. Those more familiar with the Donbas's geography, however, could rule that out. The reservoir where his body was found – a vast stretch of water nicknamed the Kramatorsk Sea – was 30 miles west of the nearest front lines, and had never been part of the combat zone. That left the possibility of a run-in with his fellow volunteers. Legionnaires are no strangers to fights sparked by battlefield mishaps, drunken arguments or personality clashes. Steroid abuse is also common in volunteer circles – one known side-effect of which are bouts of aggression known as 'roid rage'. Might a punch-up between the bruisers of 50/50 have got out of hand? Numerous Legionnaire contacts knew of ex 50/50 members who had served alongside Chadwick, but every time I asked if they would speak with me, the same answer came back: 'They don't want to talk'. It was not until four months after Chadwick's death that I first tracked one down, and even then he knew only half the story. 'Chadwick was a good soldier, but he was also quite conflictual and argumentative,' he told me. 'All I know is that there was some kind of row, which ended up with him being killed. 'The Legion then sorted it out without any proper investigation. That's the usual way here, they find it easier. The guys involved were just asked to go home, although you'd think the British embassy here in Kyiv [which helped oversee the repatriation of Chadwick's body] must have wondered what the hell was going on. A British guy gets killed, and everyone just says: 'so be it'?' The story got little coverage in Britain, by then focused on the horrors of the October 7 massacre in Israel. But in Legionnaire chat groups on Whatsapp and Signal, gossip was rife. One story had it that Chadwick had died during an SAS-style 'selection' ritual, involving waterboarding. His body had then been dumped in the reservoir, to make it look like he'd drowned. Another story was that the waterboarding had been done not as part of a ritual, but as a punishment for stealing. Both stories named the culprit as a British volunteer call-signed 'Huggs', who had previously served in the French Foreign Legion. For nearly a year, Ukrainian police declined to comment, saying only that it was a 'criminal case'. Then, during a visit to Kramatorsk in February last year, I finally spoke to a detective active in the investigation. I met Inna Lyakhova in a heavily guarded police station downtown, where her room contained a mannikin for reconstructions of homicide scenes. She said that she believed Chadwick's death was misadventure rather than murder. 'It seems there was an argument one night between him and some other soldiers at the house they were staying at,' she told me. 'He became emotional and aggressive, so he was put into plastic cuffs. His comrades told him: 'Go away, and don't come back.'' Chadwick then left the house, which Lyakhova said was in a village next to the Kramatorsk reservoir. He then appeared to have strayed into the reservoir itself, where his body was found between 24 and 48 hours later. Whether he had stumbled in accidentally or walked in deliberately was unknown. Either way, he would have been unable to swim with his hands tied behind his back, and the cause of death was drowning. Foul play had been ruled out, as police found no signs of injuries on Chadwick's body that indicated a struggle. 'We think he had gone to the water by himself, as it would have been hard to make him go there against his will,' Lyakhova said. All his 50/50 comrades had been questioned, she added. When I checked again with the Kramatorsk police just last month, there were no updates. Yet the police account raises as many questions as it answered. Most combat units, after all, are well-drilled in how to take prisoners. Would they really allow a distressed, drunken soldier to wander off into the night alone, hands tied behind his back? If he was being a nuisance, could they not have simply cuffed him to a post or a tree outside, or cuffed his ankles too? Likewise, was the absence of injuries on his body really proof that he had wandered into the lake of his own accord? What if he had been frog-marched there at gunpoint? Many volunteers I spoke to suspected a cover-up, or that at the very least Ukrainian authorities had little incentive to get to the bottom of it. The battle for Bakhmut that the 50/50 were helping with was crucial to Ukraine's war. Detaining some of them over a petty dispute that had got out of hand would remove valuable assets from the front line. 'You hear of this happening occasionally – some troops have a punch-up, someone gets killed accidentally, and it's just quietly forgotten about,' said one Legionnaire. So who really was Jordan Chadwick, and what brought him to Ukraine in the first place? Details of his life remain almost as sketchy as his death. The only public comment his family have made was a brief statement after the discovery of his body, praising his 'unwavering courage and resilience'. He is understood to have served in the Scots Guards from 2011-2015, doing guard duty outside Buckingham Palace. But like many ex-soldiers, his life appears to have unravelled after leaving the Army. In Burnley, residents of the quiet suburban street where his family home used to be spoke of a troubled young man but declined to elaborate. 'I don't want to speak ill of the dead,' one told me. By the time the Ukraine war beckoned, Chadwick was living rough, camping out in woods in Burnley's suburbs and eating in soup kitchens. One person who got to know him during that time was Pastor Mick Fleming, a reformed drug dealer who runs a local homeless charity, Church On The Street. It was visited by Prince William in January 2022, a month before the Ukraine war broke out. At the time, Chadwick was a regular drop-in at the charity – Fleming remembers him being excited about the prospect of going to fight. 'He was a lovely guy, very easy to talk to, but also a loner, quite isolated from other people,' Fleming told me back in February. 'The minute the conflict in Ukraine broke out, bingo! – he wanted to be part of it. He said it felt like his duty, as an ex-soldier, to go.' Straight away, that struck Fleming as a bad idea. Chadwick, he says, was seriously underweight from months of living rough. He smelt heavily of marijuana, and seemed to be delusional. 'I don't think anyone in their right mind would have taken him on as a soldier. He wasn't in a fit state.' Fleming's advice not to go to Ukraine went unheeded. Chadwick, he said, devoted the next few months attempting to get fit for combat, trying to use his soldier's skills to live off the land. Then, in October 2022, he headed for Ukraine. Chadwick wasn't alone in seeing the Legion as a chance to turn his life around. Other volunteers I have met went there after stints in jail, messy divorces, or simply because they were bored with life. Fleming heard nothing from Chadwick again, until the reports of his death nearly a year later. 'At first I figured he'd probably been captured by the Russians and executed, but it now looks like he fell out with someone from his own side. From my limited knowledge of him, that seems the most realistic explanation. He was a nice lad, but he couldn't cope with everyday society, with rules. That might have caused him to upset the wrong people.' Who, though, and why? It wasn't till last month that a clearer picture finally emerged, courtesy of another source, 'Dave', who only agreed to speak after months of persuasion. His accounts of dates, times and people is detailed, and corresponds with other events that I have been able to verify. In the Legionnaires' world, that is about as good as it gets. According to Dave, the incident that led to Chadwick's death was a fight he had one night with another team member, call-signed 'Bronco'. '50/50 shared two houses close to each other, with Bronco in house one and Chadwick in house two,' Dave recalled. 'Chadwick came over one night, all dressed for battle, and was trying to kill Bronco. The spark for the fight wasn't clear, but they subdued him and then tied his hands behind his back. It's not clear whether he was dead or alive when he left the house, but Huggs drove him away. His body was found in the reservoir a day or two after.' An American, a Dane, and three Britons, including 'Huggs', were apparently in the house when the fight happened. After Chadwick's body was found, they were all detained and questioned by Ukrainian police, but then released, except for Huggs. Then, in a bizarre twist, they went out for dinner together at a pizza restaurant in Kramatorsk, only for it to be hit by a Russian missile. This part of the story crosses over with mine – I was sitting in the very same restaurant myself that night. By some miracle, just as I was browsing the menu, I got a phone call from a contact who wanted to meet urgently on the other side of town. I left the restaurant, and less than half an hour later heard the explosion. It was caused by an Iskander ballistic missile – a 24ft monster big enough to carry a nuclear warhead – which killed 13 diners, including the Ukrainian novelist Victoria Amelina, and wounded 60. Among the other casualties were the American 50/50 volunteer, who died, and the Dane, who was seriously injured. The two Britons escaped serious injury, but left Ukraine shortly afterwards. In the wake of Chadwick's death and the pizza restaurant bombing, the 50/50 effectively ceased operation for some time. Huggs was released from questioning, and continued to fight in Ukraine with a different unit. For legal reasons, I am withholding publication of his name, but recently I tracked him down through an Instagram account. In a series of message exchanges, he confirmed that he had been 'the primary person under investigation' for a time as he was 50/50's team leader. He and the rest of the unit were then cleared, he said, after DNA and polygraph tests. Asked what had happened to Chadwick, he wrote the following: 'He [Chadwick] developed a hatred for a team member code-name 'Bronco'. After a few drinks he made ready his weapon and headed to the other team house to confront Bronco. To which he was disarmed, removed from the team house and [the] team itself. It was after that time he was discovered dead.' He said he was 'not the last person to see Chadwick alive', but declined to elaborate on how Chadwick had died, or who was responsible, adding: 'I cannot confirm what else happened as part of the investigation.' Once again, it is an explanation that raises as many questions as it answers. If, as Huggs claims, Chadwick was brandishing a weapon threateningly, it might have been legitimate to use force in self-defence. But if so, why dump his body in a reservoir several miles away? And why do Huggs' and Dave's accounts vary so much from that given by the police? Detective Lyakhova made no mention of Chadwick brandishing a weapon. She also said the house where the fight took place was right next to the reservoir, while Dave insists it was in Kramatorsk itself. In a subsequent message a few weeks after our first exchange, Huggs claimed the police investigation had moved on to focus on members of a previous unit Chadwick had served with, which he had left after an argument. Again, he did not elaborate, but said the argument had taken place after 'an op went bad outside of Bakhmut'. An inquest into Chadwick's death was due to be held in Britain 18 months ago, but was then postponed, with no new date set. A coroner, however, has no power to compel witnesses to give evidence from overseas. In which case they may have to rely largely on what Ukrainian police tell them. No Scotland Yard team has gone to Ukraine to investigate, and British diplomats may require special security clearance even to travel outside of Kyiv. 'The investigation into Jordan Chadwick's death is being led by the Ukrainian authorities,' Lancashire Police told me. Meanwhile, the war rumbles on, with Russian troops now barely 10 miles from Kramatorsk. A time may come when both the city and its police station fall into Kremlin hands, at which point the plight of a troubled young Englishman who died there two years ago will surely be forgotten. Somebody, somewhere, knows exactly how Chadwick ended up in that reservoir. But right now, the truth about what happened to him in Ukraine may well stay in Ukraine. The Mad and the Brave: The Untold Story of Ukraine's Foreign Legion, by Colin Freeman (HarperCollins, £22), is published on July 17
Yahoo
05-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
A US veteran who fought in Ukraine says drones are 'horrendous' for soldiers' morale
A US veteran who fought in Ukraine said the amount of drones is a "horrendous detriment to morale." He said soldiers often can't leave their bunkers, and have limited ability to go on operations. He lost friends who had a grenade explode next to them "out of nowhere, under a blue sky," he added. A US veteran who fought in Ukraine said that the scale of drones in the war is terrible for troops' morale, and that soldiers sometimes won't see a drone coming in clear blue skies before it kills them. Carl Larson, an Iraq veteran who was born in Seattle and served in Ukraine's International Legion, said that the huge presence of drones is "a horrendous detriment to morale." "I can't speak for the Russian side, but on the Ukrainian side, it's incredibly corrosive to your ability to conduct combat operations," he said at a drone conference last week. "You can't leave your blindage, your bunker, at least not during the day," he added. Larson said that "anyone who's been under artillery barrage knows how negative that is to your mental well-being and how many soldiers, seemingly strong-minded soldiers, can't handle that sort of stress." He also said he lost "good friends" in Ukraine "that died from having a grenade explode next to them out of nowhere, under a blue sky, you couldn't even hear it. Bang, they're dead." Larson said that some drone types, especially the fiberoptic drones that both Russia and Ukraine are now using, are "damn near undetectable, they come in hot at over a hundred miles an hour." Fiberoptic drones typically can't be jammed, unlike more classic drone types, and Larson said that if soldiers can't take them down with more traditional means, like guns, then "it's horrible." Larson, who served as a combat engineer in Iraq, was speaking at Drone Summit 2025, a gathering of more than 100 defense companies, defense ministers, and military officials in NATO member state Latvia. He's no longer with the International Legion, but is still helping Ukraine, including as the executive director of Defense Tech for Ukraine, a group that works to get drones and other technology to Ukrainian soldiers. He said at the summit: "I believe that Ukrainians are fighting for all of us." Larson's comments mirror those made by Ukrainian soldiers and other Western veterans who have taken part in the fighting. A Ukrainian drone operator told BI earlier this year that there are so many drones in the sky that soldiers often can't tell who they belong to. And the sheer number of drones means soldiers need to find ways to stay safe, including building fake positions and digging trenches to hide in. Drones are so common in Ukraine that they've removed the lifesaving window to rescue injured soldiers, called the "golden hour," another US veteran, who trains troops in Ukraine, previously told BI. They have also fundamentally changed military tactics in Ukraine, because they remove lots of the element of surprise, the veteran, who goes by the call sign Jackie, said. Drones have been used to scan the battlefield and gather intelligence to direct other weaponry, and to launch attacks themselves on soldiers and other targets. They can also be equipped with bombs and grenade launchers, as well as machine guns. Ukraine and Russia are in a desperate race to develop better and more drones than each other, with Ukraine increasingly relying on drones as it suffers shortages of other weapons from its allies. In contrast, it can make most of the drones it uses itself. In his comments, Larson talked about the long-term mental toll of things like drone warfare on those in combat. He said that there are some groups that do "very good work" with demobilized Ukrainian soldiers to combat PTSD and work on mental and physical rehabilitation and employment prospects. "It's really challenging," he said. Read the original article on Business Insider
Business Insider
05-06-2025
- Politics
- Business Insider
A US veteran who fought in Ukraine says drones are 'horrendous' for soldiers' morale
A US veteran who fought in Ukraine said that the scale of drones in the war is terrible for troops' morale, and that soldiers sometimes won't see a drone coming in clear blue skies before it kills them. Carl Larson, an Iraq veteran who was born in Seattle and served in Ukraine's International Legion, said that the huge presence of drones is "a horrendous detriment to morale." "I can't speak for the Russian side, but on the Ukrainian side, it's incredibly corrosive to your ability to conduct combat operations," he said at a drone conference last week. "You can't leave your blindage, your bunker, at least not during the day," he added. Larson said that "anyone who's been under artillery barrage knows how negative that is to your mental well-being and how many soldiers, seemingly strong-minded soldiers, can't handle that sort of stress." He also said he lost "good friends" in Ukraine "that died from having a grenade explode next to them out of nowhere, under a blue sky, you couldn't even hear it. Bang, they're dead." 'Undetectable' fiberoptic drones Larson said that some drone types, especially the fiberoptic drones that both Russia and Ukraine are now using, are "damn near undetectable, they come in hot at over a hundred miles an hour." Fiberoptic drones typically can't be jammed, unlike more classic drone types, and Larson said that if soldiers can't take them down with more traditional means, like guns, then "it's horrible." Larson, who served as a combat engineer in Iraq, was speaking at Drone Summit 2025, a gathering of more than 100 defense companies, defense ministers, and military officials in NATO member state Latvia. He's no longer with the International Legion, but is still helping Ukraine, including as the executive director of Defense Tech for Ukraine, a group that works to get drones and other technology to Ukrainian soldiers. He said at the summit: "I believe that Ukrainians are fighting for all of us." Larson's comments mirror those made by Ukrainian soldiers and other Western veterans who have taken part in the fighting. A Ukrainian drone operator told BI earlier this year that there are so many drones in the sky that soldiers often can't tell who they belong to. And the sheer number of drones means soldiers need to find ways to stay safe, including building fake positions and digging trenches to hide in. Long-term impact Drones are so common in Ukraine that they've removed the lifesaving window to rescue injured soldiers, called the "golden hour," another US veteran, who trains troops in Ukraine, previously told BI. They have also fundamentally changed military tactics in Ukraine, because they remove lots of the element of surprise, the veteran, who goes by the call sign Jackie, said. Drones have been used to scan the battlefield and gather intelligence to direct other weaponry, and to launch attacks themselves on soldiers and other targets. They can also be equipped with bombs and grenade launchers, as well as machine guns. Ukraine and Russia are in a desperate race to develop better and more drones than each other, with Ukraine increasingly relying on drones as it suffers shortages of other weapons from its allies. In contrast, it can make most of the drones it uses itself. In his comments, Larson talked about the long-term mental toll of things like drone warfare on those in combat. He said that there are some groups that do "very good work" with demobilized Ukrainian soldiers to combat PTSD and work on mental and physical rehabilitation and employment prospects. "It's really challenging," he said.
Boston Globe
04-06-2025
- General
- Boston Globe
Trump's diplomacy with Russia has left some US soldiers fighting in Ukraine puzzled
Just weeks into his deployment, that conviction collided with a bitter political reality back home. 'It was embarrassing, coming over here, sacrificing so much — then seeing our top leaders behaving that way,' Abeyta told The Boston Globe in early May, referring to the acrimonious White House meeting among President Trump, Vice President JD Vance, and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, on Feb. 28. Advertisement Many American fighters like Abeyta who are embedded in Ukraine front lines told the Globe they have been left angry and disillusioned by Trump's erratic position on Ukraine, as the president alternates at times between threats and diplomacy. More than three years into the war, Americans are continuing to join the Ukrainian army to battle Russia, seeing themselves as protectors of democracy and freedom. But Trump's tough stand on Ukraine has been seen as an ideological betrayal by many who want the US to take a more aggressive approach to defending Ukraine. At the same time, they are hopeful Trump's growing frustration with Russian President Vladimir Putin — combined with Ukraine's latest battlefield victories — could mount more pressure on Putin to agree to a ceasefire. Advertisement Just two weeks ago, after a two-hour call between Trump and Putin on May 19, there had been cautious optimism that a ceasefire deal might be within reach. 'For me and my teammates, it was a breath of fresh air that direct communication was finally occurring between Trump and Putin,' Abeyta said in a phone interview from Ukraine. But this Sunday Ukraine launched a drone attack on Russian air bases on the eve of cease-fire negotiations between Ukraine and Russia in Turkey. A swarm of explosive-laden drones hidden inside wooden cabins mounted on cargo trucks were smuggled deep into Russian territory and launched remotely. Ukraine's domestic Security Service, USB, claimed the covert operation, codenamed Spider Web, destroyed about 40 long-range Russian bombers, marking one of the most decisive victories for Ukraine. The attack came a week after Russia launched its largest aerial assault on Ukraine, with a barrage of 355 drones, prompting Trump to threaten Russia with new sanctions. Since Russia's full-scale invasion in February 2022, scores of American fighters have joined Ukraine's armed forces. Early in the war, Ukrainian Foreign Minister Dmytro Kuleba said over 20,000 volunteers from 52 countries had enlisted in the International Legion. Today, the exact number of American fighters is unknown. The Ground Forces command under the International Legion, the military unit that recruits foreigners, did not respond to a request on the current number of Americans serving or new registrations since the start of this year. Brigade commanders, press officers, and volunteers on the ground cited security reasons for withholding numbers but said interest remains strong and recruitment of foreigners is ongoing. The Globe conducted face-to face and telephone interviews with nearly a dozen Americans, as well as other fighters from Western countries, based in Kharkiv, Kyiv, Lviv, and Kherson. Among them were men in their early 20s who have arrived without any military experience, as well as US Army veterans who joined Ukraine early in the war. Advertisement Mark J. Lindquist, 43, from Minnesota, has been volunteering in Ukraine since March 2022. He said there was definitely a big spike in volunteers when the war started and then it dipped after August 2022. 'There were thousands who circled through. They come in, serve for six months and go back,' said Lindquist, a US Air Force veteran who served from 2006 to 2012. Putin's invasion in February 2022 marked the largest ground war in Europe since World War II and triggered a geopolitical crisis that shows no sign of resolution. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers have been killed or wounded on both sides. Russia currently occupies a fifth of Ukrainian territory. Ukraine has accepted a full 30-day unconditional cease-fire proposed by the US, but Russia rejected it. Putin wants to retain the territorial gains he has made and wants Kyiv to accept the loss of Crimea. He has also demanded that Ukrainian troops retreat from Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson Oblast regions in Ukraine. American volunteers said their mission is simple — stand up to tyranny. 'I am here because the American way is to aid,' said another American soldier in Kharkiv, who asked to be identified by his call sign, Oracle, 23, out of fear for his family's safety. A US Army veteran, who served three years in the 10th Mountain Division, Oracle said he has been in Ukraine since October to 'kick the bully's ass.' Advertisement A former Trump supporter, he said he was angry about the way Trump was handling the Ukraine issue. 'This complete turnaround, 180 degree (turn) of cutting all ties and supplies to Ukraine; it is almost like he is wanting Ukraine to lose,' he said. Irrespective of what the Trump government does, Oracle said, he is not afraid to die fighting. 'I have done everything in my life I wanted to except start a family. I have come to terms with the fact that no matter what I do, in the end I am going to die.' Many Americans who have been in Ukraine since the start of the war said they have no intention of leaving — no matter how long the war drags on. Rebekah Maciorowski, 30, a combat medic from Denver, has been in Ukraine since March 2022. Now serving as the chief medic with Ukraine's 53rd Separate Mechanized Brigade in Kherson Oblast, she said her mission remains unchanged, regardless of what unfolds in Washington. 'What I can do right now to help Ukraine is doing the exact same thing that I have been doing, without giving up,' she said. She said the Ukrainian soldiers she treats are also focused on survival and resistance. 'They know nobody is coming to save them. So, they will keep fighting. And so do we.' In Kharkiv, another US veteran, Zachary Jaynes, 31, from South Carolina, said he has thought about going back home a few times but could not. 'You cannot really move on and find peace when missiles are still raining down on you and your friends,' said Jaynes, a former Army Ranger who has served in Afghanistan. Advertisement A 2021 Dartmouth graduate, Jaynes said he was seeking peace at a silent meditation retreat in a Buddhist monastery in Nepal when the war broke out. He faced a choice. 'Stay tucked away in the mountains and away from my past, or go back into the abyss and use my experience and skills from Afghanistan to do a little bit of good,' he said, recalling his thought process. He chose the latter. 'Now, I have found peace in a strange way — by coming here and being exactly where I should be and doing what exactly I should be doing,' he said. The motivation of Americans who willingly embrace the treacherous trenches and horrors of bloodshed vary. Ukrainian officers who command units with foreign fighters said there are 'democracy defenders' who believe in a just cause, but there are also those who want to run away from the harsh realities of life back home. 'There are three types of people here. Those who come for money, for politics, and those crazies looking for adventure. All three types are welcome here,' said Commander Baiev Anton of the 13th Khartiia Brigade. His unit includes soldiers from at least 13 countries — the US, UK, France, Germany, and Italy among them. They make a real difference, he said. 'It is a morale boost. Their presence raises the morale of Ukrainian soldiers. It is a message that they are not alone in this fight,' he said. Meanwhile, on the northern front lines in Kharkiv that border Russia, Trump's shifting policies on Ukraine have reverberated. 'As soon as that White House meeting occurred, we started getting artillery barrages. We kept getting hit by drones a lot more,' said Abeyta. Advertisement 'Trump's direct involvement translates to the number and intensity of attacks our units receive,' he added. This reporting was supported by the International Women's Media Foundation's Women on the Ground: Reporting from Ukraine's Unseen Frontlines Initiative in partnership with the Howard G. Buffett Foundation.
