The hero of the new episode is an anarchist and anti-fascist, callsign Hengist. His path was paved from street antifa-fights to struggle against imperial invaders, who represent a new form of colonial nazism. We met with Hengist while he was going through rehabilitation in Kyiv.

This interview, in contrast with the previous ones, turned out heavy. We do not recommend reading it for people sensitive to graphic descriptions of injuries and death, although we think that learning about such experiences is important, both for those who are far from war, and civilians with soldiers, for whom war is a part of day-to-day life.

This is a story of self-organisation, resilience and humanity, told with such a smile that gives you goosebumps.

How did your day in the position usually start?

Due to the specifics of our job, we should’ve been constantly on guard, not much time for sleeping. We always had night drones at the ready, which we needed to use in the event of an assault or an attack.

Therefore, working days usually start quite early, around 4-5 AM, depending on the season. Usually contacted with the Support Forces Command, headquarters. Reported that we are ready to work and are monitoring everything happening around us. 

In general, our work consisted of constantly checking transmissions of our intelligence. Because we had emergency flights, when, for example, someone is trying to assault or attack, or you just found a target. Then you ask permission to carry on the attack and take off.

The working day started early, and practically the whole time was spent in the hassle. Working with FPVs, apart from flights, a lot of time is spent on various technical issues: you need to endlessly configure or adjust something. Some drones won’t take off, there’ll be problems with signal and many other technical nuances. 

It frequently happened that despite working the whole day, you did not have many flights. It is normal, because we’re a young crew, learn everything on our own and are gaining priceless technical experience specifically in action. 

Can you tell us about the very moment of your first injury? What was happening?

It happened so that enemies managed to track our take-off point due to some malfunction in a new batch of drones. They sent Mavic with drop-off there, which we, with my brother-in-arms, just didn’t notice.

We have a habit: when leaving the dugout, whatever the reason, to listen to the air and the sky, to observe what’s happening around you. That time, it was quiet, we went out for the generator, as the power ran out. And just as we reached it, we heard something Mavic-like. At first we thought that it is ours, but when we realised it is hovering over our heads, it got to us —  we’re screwed.

I told my navigator we need to scurry. The decision-making took approximately a second, but during this second drop was launched. My navigator was injured more severely than I, his legs were broken. My leg was practically not working, the left one that was hurt, but on an adrenaline rush, I managed to reach the dugout, call the guys to help the navigator. Wanted to go for him too, but it became clear that my chest was pierced, bleeding extensively, and I couldn’t carry anybody. The leg wasn’t working, I could hardly breathe. But boys promptly bandaged us, and literally in 20 minutes evacuation arrived. In our crew, we don’t rely on the general evacuation; everything is organised by ourselves. The guys arrived and took us to the hospital.

Slipped my mind, while I was running toward the dugout, there was a second drop on my navigator, but he managed to roll away, so they didn’t finish him, let’s say so.

What did you feel in the moment, both physically and mentally?

In the moments of serious damage, injuries, I usually experience high levels of concentration, meaning I am concentrating on what needs to be done next, not on my physical sensations.

 That’s why my first reaction was to reach for the dugout, call for help, and try to carry away the injured, but in the process, I realised that I can’t do that. Blood is pouring from the chest, and it’s obvious that something was hit — the lung or something else. The left leg was unresponsive, numb. At first, I thought it was fractured, couldn’t figure it out. The right leg was also hit, but I noticed it in the hospital afterwards. Shrapnel cut through the shin, but I didn’t notice because it went through soft tissue. In the hospital, when they got me undressed noticed this trick.

While guys were bandaging us, I was giving them instructions to check something on the navigator, on me, to turn on the [white] lights instead of working with the [red] flashlights. Quite calmly. I really don’t like it when people turn to panic and behave irrationally, very glad that despite the pain, I can still be in control.  

There was also this feeling of uncertainty: I was ignoring the leg. Knew that shrapnel went through the chest, and it was unclear how bad the injury was. There was a possibility that I won’t leave this place and bleed out completely. Couldn’t properly determine the nature of the injury. Saw a lot of blood and felt that I was becoming weaker. Tried not to lose consciousness. Constantly talked to guys, tried to keep sane to the maximum. I thought, if I pass out now, that’s probably it — “goodbye, me”. But everything went fine.

How was your recovery period? What was the hardest part of it?

Oof, first of all, I extremely despise hospitals. For me, staying there always puts me into a depressed state. These walls and the atmosphere itself are very oppressive. Once you are in the hospital, you can’t wait to leave it asap.

Rehabilitation was a bit strange, doctors were absolutely ignoring my numb foot, their main target was to heal the shrapnel in the chest. Turned out that it hit the liver and lungs, and they were concerned specifically about that. It took me a long time to turn their attention to the foot. Only in a week or so, after almost having to go through the chief physician, I achieved a visit from a neurologist.

The neurologist seemed experienced, but decided to treat me with outdated methods, and didn’t prescribe any painkillers. For almost the entire time, until I came to Kyiv and made an appointment in a private clinic with a decent neurologist, I suffered from pain in my foot for a month in total. Nerves were severed, and the foot was numb while stepping on it; I could walk only on my heels. It was accompanied by a wide spectrum of pains. There were shooting and burning pains, all sorts of sensations. Pain subsided literally for 15-20 minutes a few times a day. Nominally, from 24 hours — 22 were spent in pain, and it only intensified.

Nobody even thought about pain relief, they only injected me with some recovery vitamins. Also, some very painful medication, which, as I was told by doctors later, wasn’t used for 30 years. It was ok for the soviet healthcare, but today we have much more effective and painless medication than what they treated me with.

That’s a military hospital for you, everything is cheap and tight. Everything is built on the idea to quickly patch you up in order to free up a hospital bed. In a sense, all the worries about full recovery and treatment are lying on the shoulders of a fighter once they are discharged. Everything depends on how they’ll settle down. If they have contacts, private clinics, and decent doctors who’ll be able to accompany them and assist with rehabilitation. For now, it’s how it is. 

How was the rehabilitation period once you started working directly with the injury treatment?

So, first of all, they prescribed me lots of great medication, which I had to take a few times a day, two of them had a pain relief effect, so I quickly forgot how it was trying to fall asleep, constantly distracted by the pain. And, even if you manage to KO, you’re hoping not to wake up in the middle of the night, because you know that then you won’t be able to rest properly.

After that came massage, electrostimulation, and laser therapy to stimulate the nerves. Later, physical therapy was added. I go through it daily, usually it is accompanied by leg massage or electrostimulation. The point is to renew the nerves and involve them in the muscle work. According to my latest examination, one of the nerves is working only at 19 percent, the other one, which was injured less, has lost half of its working capacity.

Nerves are recovering slowly, and only with a very consistent and proper treatment. If you do procedures daily, take your medication, and maintain a normal lifestyle, that won’t hinder treatment. And even with all of it, in total recovery will be very slow, unfortunately, nerves are this way.

How are you dealing with the emotional impact after the injury? Do you have PTSD?

Nothing like that. Neither after the first injury, nor after the second one. Probably, it’s also some mental trait, I don’t have anxieties or worries. Generally, everything is the same as it was. Even though at the time of the first injury, I had two of my brothers-in-arms dying on my hands, it didn’t affect me in any visible way.

Tell us about the first injury.

The first one happened near Bakhmut, hand and face. In 2023. We were leaving Bakhmut, it was almost taken, and we were sent to cover the withdrawal of troops. As a result, out of 25 people, only 7 made it to the position. 

Others were crashed on the way. Two of our boys perished, one died in my arms over the course of 15 minutes. I dragged him to the reforestation so he won’t be finished off on the road. Tried to talk to him so he’ll stay conscious, but he was already in a delirious state, and it was clear he was dying. I continued speaking to his dead body for 20 more minutes. I knew he was dead, but I was telling him how I appreciate him, reminiscing on all the good memories. He was a great guy. But it doesn’t show in any way for now. Nothing you can call PTSD. 

Do you feel like you require additional support, financial or emotional? If yes, what would that look like?

In my case, we’re probably talking only about the financial side, because the emotional one I am receiving literally from everyone, it’s priceless.

In general, I know a lot of guys who got heavily injured, but all they have are parents or a small social circle that can support them. It’s challenging because they have no one to turn to. 

And even from the financial side, at the moment everything is smooth, it meant the world to me when a huge number of people supported me financially at the moment of rehabilitation. Procedures are pricy, and with my soldier salary, injury security payments and other stuff, I wouldn’t manage otherwise to pay for it. People helped me in all senses, emotional, and financial. 

What challenges or problems have you noticed in the rehabilitation or treatment system? What do you think could be changed or improved?

The deal is I didn’t sign into the state’s clinic, so I didn’t experience it and can’t evaluate.

I can say that the clinic I am going to, a private one, has been working with various soldiers for a long time. I saw messages of gratitude and signed flags of different units, starting with “Gor” and finishing with infantry brigades. They help soldiers, give them discounts, very thoughtful approach. They’re doing it not with a “sod off”, but they really try to understand your problems and contribute into your fastest recovery, independently from how much time it’ll take. There’s no such thing as allocated time. If they have an opportunity, they’ll do more — massage or exercises. They’re interested in your recovery.

As for the state ones, I didn’t have such experience. Though other guys with serious injuries, who went through [rehabilitation in] Pusche Vodytsia, said that medical personnel are great and pay attention, and, allegedly, their methods aren’t soviet but modern. It’s from their words, I can’t say anything for myself.

As for how I am treated, I am happy. The only thing, unfortunately, it’s not as fast a process as the one I was hoping for.

What do you think about veteran organisations? Do you see them as a promising initiative to support injured soldiers?

Let’s say that I am supporting veteran organisations if they know their goals and objectives, because we have experience with how they were created for not very good deals. To legalise land allocation, or participation in violent confrontations on the side of big business or politicians. Unfortunately, it’s a frequent problem.

For me, veteran communities are about the unionisation of people who get each other. And it is fine, no offence to civilians, but the one who experienced fighting at war will understand better the problems of the other soldier, because they went through it and have felt it on their own skin.

Veteran organisations are important if we’re talking about unionism for pushing the decent initiatives, for example, barrier-free cities, effective logisticst, education of those who’ll come after us and will be also defending their people and land, to not turn it into the like of ATO-2 (Antiterrorist Operation)  after the first war on Donbas, when soldiers were forgotten. No effort was made to maintain or improve the army’s condition or appeal. We do still have an unfortunately small soviet army. 

We’re holding the front only thanks to the units with bright people who self-organise, learn and scale this experience up to draw new people. It’s not the state’s or its organs’ achievement. In Ukraine, everything comes from the grassroots and bears its fruits.

I think that the main objective of the state’s organs — at least not to interfere but rather help and stay out with their foolish initiatives, for they don’t know what they’re doing. They think they’re doing something right, but military experience shows they’re wrong. 

So I support such initiatives if they’re directed not against your people. They shouldn’t be used to oppose people against each other, but for the promotion of decent initiatives for fighters and those who came back from the frontline and need to find their place in society.

I heard from people a lot that while they were at war, their colleagues grew professionally, gained knowledge. Fighters, on the contrary, lost it all, lost their value on the labour market. So the objective of these communities is to support and defend the rights of those who have to find their place in society, help them avoid marginalisation and being left on the sidelines as something useless.