Written by Alina Sarnatska
The future of the entire world will live its happy life on the bones of Ukrainian infantry. Children and adults, all of them.
My infantry is Mykhailo, who went off to defend his fiancée and their future child. A year later, she asked him not to come home on leave because she “needed to figure herself out.” She did — and now Mykhailo has nowhere to return.
My infantry is Vitya. He came back without a leg; nobody in the village will hire him, his wife is in tears, and Vitya is drinking. His disability payments have run out. Vitya says it would’ve been better to die — at least then his children would get some money.
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My infantry is Roma, who refused evacuation, waited long hours for reinforcements, and crawled through hell to bring back two of our dead. Now he lives in a big city, riding the subway while people beside him laugh out loud, as if he’s just an ordinary man. But he is a Hero.
My infantry is Olena from Bukovyna, who flies large drones. When she went off to fight, her husband was briefly proud — and then filed for divorce. Olena knows she won’t return. She just wants to take as many enemies as she can with her.
My infantry is the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best, the best.
Alina Sarnatska is a veteran of the armed forces of Ukraine, a writer, an activist and a student and volunteer at Balakun. You can follow her on Bluesky, Twitter or Facebook.
