FEBRUARY 2025 UPDATE
Friends of Ukraine,
We keep moving forward despite the challenges. The soldiers say hello and send their gratitude for all the support we have provided recently: the Starlink units, diesel heaters for dugouts, batteries, tools for servicing the military vehicles, help with their repair and more.
Portable beds have been supplied to a unit deploying to one of the most difficult parts of the front. The Ford vehicle we sent last month is proving invaluable—another thank you from the soldier who’s using it to perform the tasks. And just recently, we purchased a Mavic 3 Pro drone to aid in reconnaissance. It’s already on its way to the front.
The other project was about helping to organize connection and data supply between different units and hubs, and improving the signal.
It’s very important to know that you are still with us.
I am grateful for all the messages I have received recently and for your words of support.
However, things are the toughest for the men at the front. Below is a text I received from my brother-in-law, who’s been in the war for almost two years. It’s important to keep telling others what’s happening, he says. The text was found in a notebook after they came to conduct evacuation and collected the author’s body. It has been translated into English, some parts deleted so as not to share names and places. I am sharing this message with permission from the author’s warmates.
“I don’t know why I’m writing it… Maybe I just want to talk to myself on paper. Maybe it’ll help.
(…) I’m sitting in the dugout in mud between (…) and (…) towns now. All in mud. (…) It’s cold… It’s autumn again. It’s already my second autumn in the war…
How is my family doing? I’ll definitely call them when I get back from the shift. Yes!
No thinking about the family. No emotions.
We smoke and eat in the dugout. We go to the toilet in a plastic bottle. We can look out for a few seconds to check at the perimeter only, not longer. Drones are everywhere. It’s not clear whether they’re ours or the enemy’s. It feels like the sky is full of them.
It’s calm tonight, there’s almost no shelling. Just random shots from time to time. Probably not to let us relax. It’s impossible to relax anyway: the enemy’s 200 meters away. We can even hear them arguing with each other from time to time.
The assault will take place tomorrow morning. We have to fight back the positions. Maybe we’ll collect (…). He’s 200 (dead). He’s been there for five days already. I hope those bustards did not jeer at the body. There would be nothing to send to the relatives again.
Something is flying. A Yaga (the slang name of the Vampire drone used by the Ukrainian military) flew away. They are bombing the rear. We’ll definitely have to storm in the morning.
I am afraid. I am afraid of not being afraid again. And I can’t talk with warmates about it. They are not afraid either. We’re dead… psychologically dead. There’s hatred for the enemy and emptiness in my soul. I think about it and I understand that there is no me the way I was before the war. Only the cover remains. A picture of my past. I will be different when I return. If I ever return.
No, I must return. We’ll take those positions, collect (…) body and I will call the relatives.
To return!!! I want to return home so much!!! To forget it all! Not to see it in dreams!
Especially that family in Chasik (slang for Chasiv Yar town). That girl. Why didn’t they leave right away? Why did the father protract? They had to stay in the car in his yard, shot to death. Bastards! What did she do to you? She’s a child. Bastards. (…)
I’m not afraid, I’m already dead inside.
It’s easier. It has become easier. I will probably write more when I come back from the shift. I’ll write about something else. Maybe at least something will remain inside of me this way.”
It’s important to make sure the aggressor is defeated and the war does not spread. Thank you for being with Ukraine.
Andriy