Behind high walls and locked gates in a camp in Western Ukraine, a group of men – some born in Russian‑ruled cities, others in the Donbas – are captured, fighting for a nation that once claimed them as its own.
The soldiers, recruited from places like St Petersburg and Yekaterinburg and from the eastern city of Donetsk, speak of motives that range from voluntary allegiance to coercion. Anton, 18, says he joined in 2022 after the region was overrun. He writes, 'I don’t regret my choice. I went to defend my land,' and insists his friends volunteered as well.
But not all men are Russians. Some, like Artyom, are born in occupied Ukrainian territory and served only two months before their body was hollowed by shrapnel. While Ukrainian officials label them traitors, the men themselves claim they still feel a sense of belonging to those lands, despite the heavy Russian propaganda and schooling they endured.
The men argue that Russia’s cultural influence has blurred their identities: 'All my family are from Russia. All my roots are from there,' says one, brushing off his Ukrainian surname as irrelevant. The war has turned the Donbas into an arena for identity erasure and forced immigration of native peoples.
In the camp, life continues within the constraints of labor: prisoners craft coffins and artificial Christmas trees to earn extra food and cigarettes. A small garden sprouts strawberries and cucumbers, a flicker of hope amid barbed wire and hard walls. A video on a loop states myths about Crimea, but soldiers remain oblivious to it, focused on daily rations of soup and stew.
Confidential documents indicate more than 50,000 Ukrainians have been conscripted against their will in occupied areas, but the real figure might be far higher. Victims of forced enlistment offer warnings: there is a deep desire to return home and surrender to the front lines is a fear that grips many.
For the conscripts, the war and the camp mean a loss of cultural heritage and a threat to land. As the soldiers grapple with layered identities, their stories underscore the broader crisis of cultural displacement in Eastern Ukraine and the risk of erasing centuries of ancient wisdom through ongoing conflict.
