Russian Soldiers Speak Out

In audio intercepts from the front lines in Ukraine, Russian soldiers speak in shorthand of 200s to mean dead, 300s to mean wounded. The urge to flee has become common enough that they also talk of 500s - people who refuse to fight.

As the war grinds into its second winter, a growing number of Russian soldiers want out, as suggested in secret recordings obtained by The Associated Press of Russian soldiers calling home from the battlefields of the Kharkiv, Luhansk and Donetsk regions in Ukraine.

The calls offer a rare glimpse of the war as it looked through Russian eyes — a point of view that seldom makes its way into Western media, largely because Russia has made it a crime to speak honestly about the conflict in Ukraine. They also show clearly how the war has progressed, from the professional soldiers who initially powered Vladimir Putin's full-scale invasion to men from all walks of life compelled to serve in grueling conditions.

"There's no f------ 'dying the death of the brave' here," one soldier told his brother from the front in Ukraine's Kharkiv region. "You just die like a f------ earthworm."

Another Wave of Mobilization Looms in Russia

The prospect of another wave of mobilization lingers, even as Moscow has been trying to lure people into signing contracts with the military. Russia's annual autumn conscription draft kicked off in October, pulling in some 130,000 fresh young men. Though Moscow says conscripts won't be sent to Ukraine, after a year of service they automatically become reservists — prime candidates for mobilization.

The AP verified the identities of people in the calls by speaking with relatives and soldiers — some of whom are still at war in Ukraine — and researching open-source material linked to the phone numbers used by the soldiers.

The conversations, picked up in January 2023 - some from near the longest and deadliest fight in Bakhmut - have been edited for length and clarity. Names have been omitted to protect the soldiers and their relatives.

The voices in these calls are of men who didn't or couldn't flee mobilization. Some had no money, no education and no options. Others believed in patriotic duty. One worked in a meat processing plant, cutting bone. Another worked at a law firm. A third, who worked as a roofer and later at a supermarket company, had a string of debts and had defaulted on his utilities payments, records show.

It is hard to say how representative these calls are of sentiment in Russia's armed forces, but their desperation is matched by a spike in legal cases against soldiers in Russia who refuse to fight.

"They are the same as we are"

After a few weeks of training, the Professor was sent to the front line near Bakhmut as a mortarman. He wanted out almost immediately. He was ill-equipped, at least compared to the well-camouflaged Wagner soldiers wandering around.

"They have night vision and automatic rifles with cool silencers. I have an automatic rifle from 1986 or hell knows what year," he told his brother in a January phone call.

It was his job to aim, but the Russian army's coordinates were so sloppy that soldiers ended up killing each other.

The Professor said his commander instructed them not to kill civilians, but who was a civilian and who was a combatant? Even a kid could carry a grenade, he told his brother. Where did the mortars he fired land? Had he killed children?

The worst was when he was out with young guys in his unit. There was just a strip of woods between them and the Ukrainians.

"I imagined that there, on the other side, there could be young people just like us. And they have their whole lives ahead of them," he told AP in June. "Bones, tears - all the same, they are the same as we are."

The Professor told himself he didn't really have a choice: Either fire the mortar or face criminal charges and end up in a pit or a prison.

"If you don't like something, if you refuse to do something, you're considered a refusenik," he said. "That is, you're a '500' right away. … So we had to follow orders. Whether we wanted to or not."

The Professor never thought he'd be a refusenik one day too.

"I wish you could come home"

The Professor: The worst thing is that there might even be children there, you know.

Brother: And what can you do. … You have your orders. … It seems to me that if it had been voluntary, you wouldn't have gone.

The Professor: You know, I'm glad about that. Plus, we did such a good job that they gave us a car. The downside is, you know, how many lives were ruined for the sake of a car?

Brother: Not of your own free will.

The Professor: I'm already so tired.

Brother: I believe it. Time to come home. I wish you could come home. Not so that you could home but so that all of this could be over already.

"Gloomy as hell"

In the spring, as the Professor's brothers drove down a road outside their hometown in Russia, a car made a U-turn into the side of their vehicle, sending it spinning as a semi bore down on them.

One brother was killed. Another survived but now cannot walk, family members said.

Desperate Professor Faces Prison Time

By Anonymous

Desperate to go home to bury his brother, the Professor said he got approval from his commander for a 10-day leave. Military police in Russian-controlled territory in Luhansk let him through, he said, and he paid for his own taxi ride home. Once he got back to Russia, however, he was told he didn't have the right paperwork.

Not long after the funeral, the Professor got a message from his commanding officer: "What is happening there? Are you going to come back or stay there?"

"I'll collect the documents, and then we'll decide everything," he wrote back.

Now he faces up to 10 years in prison.

He hired a lawyer. Months into a 10-day leave, he can't even apply for an extension to legalize his stay and help his family because he doesn't have the right documents. He said his brother can move around on his arms and mostly get into his wheelchair by himself, but can't function independently.

People from the military came to his home, he said. Terrified they'd arrest him if he went outside, he passed documents attesting to the dire state of his family's health to them through the window.

His lawyer told him to look on the bright side. "You are the only, well, how do I put this … at least, you're the only healthy person here."

His mother is at the end of her endurance.

"I write everywhere, I call everywhere, too. Because he was told that he has to return to his unit," his mother told AP. "But how can he leave his brother? I have no one."

Now, the Professor has visions of dead people. They stare back at him. He can almost hear them walking nearby. Sometimes he bolts awake at night, sweating, or dives under the covers at the sound of a whistle.

He wants his old life back, that sweet time he had with his wife and baby. He has picked up some roofing work at construction sites, and his neighbor proposed a new side job: digging graves.

Artyom left behind a string of debts in Russia. Things got even worse in Ukraine, where it was so cold he couldn't wash his underwear and his lighter kept freezing.

"It's not like I'm having any f------ fun here, day in day out. It's been f------ four months already," he told his wife in January. "Everybody's f------ mad, f------ gloomy as hell."

It was New Year's Day, and the Russians were getting bombarded by Ukrainians and not even firing back, he said.

"Yesterday we were f------ bombarded, for f---'s sake, we didn't even get a single shell out, not a single f------ shell," he told his wife.

The war seemed senseless to him. Why wasn't Putin satisfied with Crimea? What business did they have trying to take Kharkiv and Kyiv? Why was everyone lying about how great things were at the front?

No one was saying the one thing he wanted to hear: that he could go home.

"On edge all the time"  

Artyom: Yesterday we were listening to the radio and someone f------ said, "the situation with mobilized soldiers is f------ wonderful." I don't know who the f------ idiot is who said that. "Only five thousand people died."

Wife: Mhm. Of course.

Artyom: F------ s---heads. I think half of them are probably gone at this point.

Wife: Right.

Artyom: Five thousand people my ass.

Artyom doesn't have much sympathy for draft dodgers and deserters, though he can see the wisdom in making a run for it.

"That's what you have to do, given the chance," he told his wife. "This is not the best f------ place to be … But then they're gonna say you're a f------ freak who ran away. I don't f------ need that."

He told her he'll stay put and follow orders. "If God wills it so that you're gonna f------ die, you're gonna f------ die, can't do much about it."

The AP reached Artyom by phone at the end of May. He was still in eastern Ukraine, where he'd been serving for eight months without break.

Roman explained that professional contract soldiers receive better treatment: they are given leave, have their clothes laundered, and can bathe regularly. They don't have to struggle for food and water.

Life on the Frontlines: A Soldier's Tale

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of war, soldiers like Roman find themselves thrust into the trenches alongside men from all walks of life. Some of these men have never even held a gun before. Trapped in this bleak existence, they are denied the opportunity to leave, while their commanders, whom Roman describes as "weak wusses," offer little assistance. Roman has even had to purchase night vision goggles with his own money, a testament to the dire conditions they face.

Basic necessities are scarce. There is not enough food to sustain them, and clean drinking water is a luxury they can only dream of. Desperate, the soldiers resort to licking snowflakes and scooping up rainwater to quench their thirst. Roman himself has lost over 60 pounds due to the lack of sustenance, and the constant bout of diarrhea has only exacerbated his suffering.

"It got to the point where there were puddles after it rained, and the guys would scoop up the water and drink it," Roman confided in a friend. "Even when snow fell, we would catch it and eat it, no matter how filthy it was."

When Roman first arrived in Ukraine in November 2022, he was part of a unit comprising 100 men. However, by early January, nearly a third of their numbers had been lost. Roman considers himself fortunate on two occasions. Once, he fell ill with food poisoning and was forced to stay behind while a group of scouts ventured out. They never returned. Another time, while carrying water, he stumbled and fell just as a shell exploded nearby, taking the lives of others in its wake.

Surrounded by a horseshoe formation of Ukrainian troops, Roman describes the constant fear of their supply lines being severed. It is as if they are perched precariously on the edge of a toilet seat, always on guard for the moment when their already tenuous lifeline may be cut off entirely.

Roman had to perform a gruesome task of putting a man's intestines back into his body, but unfortunately, it didn't save the man's life. Another incident involved Roman going out to defecate in a field, only to find himself surrounded by tanks firing. However, he remained unfazed and continued squatting until he was done. Living in constant fear for two months, where even the slightest sound in the dark made him and others shoot, took a toll on their mental strength.

"We survive because we are constantly on edge," he explained. "Even our own comrades don't come near us, especially at night. When we are on duty, we warn everyone that we will shoot at anything that makes noise."

Roman shared the tragic story of his cousin who was killed by a shell that also took the lives of eleven other soldiers. While his family managed to bring back half of his cousin's body to Russia, the remains of the other soldiers remained unclaimed in Ukraine.

It wasn't just the killings that affected them, but also the feeling of being forgotten.

"The killing is everywhere"

Roman: Our group consisted of individuals who were mentally strong and patriotic. They were the first ones to join. However, after two months, their mental state started deteriorating. Many of them had their psyche shattered.

Friend: Yes, I understand. It must have been the constant exposure to killings.

"The Mobilized are not Considered Humans"

There is a disturbing reality in the war-torn country of Ukraine. The killing is rampant, with countless corpses scattered across the land. However, what is even more unsettling is the lack of concern for the soldiers on the front lines.

One soldier, Roman, shares his experience of the dire conditions. Despite being part of the national army, he feels disposable. "F---, it's f----- up here," he exclaims. The soldiers are constantly being rotated, given leave, and provided with basic necessities like clean clothes and food. However, for Roman and his comrades, the situation is drastically different. They are left to drink from rainwater puddles, desperate for sustenance.

The sense of dehumanization is palpable. Another soldier, Andrei, expresses his frustrations to his mother. "The mobilized are not considered humans," he laments. The soldiers are seen as expendable, expected to sacrifice their lives for a mere 200,000 rubles.

It is no wonder that mutiny is in the air. The soldiers, who once had a sense of duty, are now questioning their purpose and value. The panic and despair that initially consumed them have subsided, thanks in part to the solace they find in calls home.

"The Forgotten Soldiers"

Andrei: The situation here is absurd. Our soldiers are dying for nothing. This so-called war is a joke. When I return, I will reveal the truth about what is really happening. It's all nonsense. Our soldiers are risking their lives, going into battle, and no one is even fighting back. It's all a farce. Our own artillery is hitting our own dugouts, not the enemy's. Can you believe that?

Mother: Why would they do that?

Andrei: They just miss the target, I guess. ... Here, if the enemy doesn't get you, your own people will.

Mother: (Inaudible)

Andrei: I'm telling you, it's enough to drive you crazy. Everything here just frustrates you because there's nothing you can do about it. No one cares. It's been six months and that's it. Screw them. If they don't send reinforcements, if they don't bring us back, the whole company will just walk away. They can't put a hundred people on trial.

Mother: They have no right to keep you there any longer.

Andrei: No one cares about us here. We were recently told that we've been forgotten a little bit. But it's not just being forgotten - we've been screwed over.

According to Andrei, mobilized soldiers like him are treated the worst. They are not allowed to leave, even if they are injured, because commanders fear they will never return.

"Abandoned and Ignored"

Andrei: Our soldiers are being killed in large numbers.

Mother: From what I can tell -

"The Harsh Reality of War"  

Andrei shares his experience of the brutal conditions and lack of care for soldiers in the war. He reveals that contract soldiers who are wounded are sent home, while mobilized soldiers are patched up and sent back to the front lines. The lack of concern for the health and well-being of soldiers is evident, as they are left to suffer and potentially die in the war zone.

Andrei expresses his frustration with the system, stating that soldiers are only valued as long as they are useful. Once they become injured or no longer serve a purpose, they are forgotten and abandoned.

His mother shares her concern for his well-being, hoping that he doesn't fall ill and praying for his safe return. She also expresses her disappointment in the current state of Ukraine, referring to it as a land filled with "traitors and fascists."

She laments the loss of the country she once knew, where she was born and educated. She criticizes the current rulers and their actions, questioning if they are blind or ignorant to the damage they are causing to the nation.