How four words came to symbolise Ukraine’s struggle for freedom.

Today marks the 35th anniversary of Ukraine’s independence; 35 years since it seceded from the crumbling Soviet Union; 35 years since it accomplished a centuries-old ambition to be free from the shackles of Russian imperialism. And at the heart of this struggle is a question of separateness. While Putin and Russian imperialists conjecture that Ukrainians are nothing more than Russians in disguise, Ukrainians continue to staunchly assert their national identity; an identity forged just as much by who they are not, as who they are.

A perfect example of this came in June 2025, when a video surfaced on YouTube showing helmet-cam footage of the Ukrainian 12th Special Forces Brigade Azov taking several Russian soldiers captive. As the prisoners sit and await instructions, one of them looks up at his Ukrainian captor and casually asks in Russian, “Hey guys, will you take us prisoner or kill us?” The Ukrainian soldier calmly responds, “Prisoner. We are not you.” The hard-hitting response seems to instantly register with the prisoner. It reveals the stark contrast in the treatment of enemy subjects by the respective sides — Russia’s systematic committing of atrocities has been well-documented. However, it also captures the nature of this war and Ukraine’s centuries-long struggle on the most fundamental level.

You see, a certain ex-KGB agent from Saint Petersburg, through some extreme mental gymnastics, has asserted that the Ukrainian and Russian people are, in fact, one and the same. So desperate has Putin been to sell this claim to the Russian people and the wider world that he published a pseudo-historical treatise entitled ‘On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians’ six months before launching his full-scale invasion. In it, he claims, through a veil of conspiracy theories, falsehoods, and distortions, that Ukrainian national consciousness and statehood are nothing but a fiction, a plot by “the West”, orchestrated to harm Russia. Key message: Ukraine belongs to Russia by right (although the better part of 40 million Ukrainians tend to disagree). Chillingly, this deeply sinister rhetoric based on murky linguistic and historical ties echoes those of a certain moustached dictator almost a century prior.

German-Austria must return to the great German motherland, and not because of economic considerations of any sort… Common blood belongs in a common Reich.

— Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf (1925)[1]

Russians and Ukrainians were one people — a single whole. These words were not driven by some short-term considerations… The true sovereignty of Ukraine is possible only in partnership with Russia.

— Vladimir Putin, On the Historical Unity of Ukrainians and Russians (2021)[2]

For decades, Putin has done everything in his power to undermine Ukraine’s independence, meddling heavily in its domestic politics, instigating separatist insurgencies in the Donbas, illegally annexing its territories and finally waging a full-scale war of national annihilation. And yet, while Ukrainians have resisted in the streets and on the battlefields, the biggest resistance remains in the hearts and minds of all Ukrainians who defiantly declare: “We are not you (and never will be)”. Even back in 2003, Former Ukrainian president Leonid Kuchma wrote a book entitled ‘Ukraine is Not Russia’. In it, he acknowledges the historical and cultural ties between the two peoples, while simultaneously emphasising Ukraine’s distinct national identity and societal makeup.

Perhaps Putin felt obliged to write his own thesis in refutation of Kuchma, but exactly why Putin is so afraid of an independent Ukraine in the first place is a question begging to be answered. The fear is actually far from new. In fact, it has deep historical roots in a period when nationalist movements threatened the sovereignty of the Russian Empire, particularly from the 19th century onwards. For this reason, Ukrainian nationalist sentiment had been heavily, and often brutally, suppressed for centuries, with a policy of pan-Slavism and Russification seeking to replace Ukrainian language, culture and even populations with those of the Russian rulers. There were even attempts at outright genocide — the Holodomor, a man-made famine which killed millions of Ukrainians in the 1930s.

Russian revisionist history, of course, whitewashes all of its repression, even though it continued as official policy right up to the disintegration of the Soviet Union in 1991, when Ukraine was given full legal independent status. And this moment could have been the end of the story, with Ukraine riding off peacefully into the sunset. However, Putin and millions of Russians have doggedly clung to the myth that Ukrainians are nothing more than “little Russians” who need to be, or even wish to be, “reintegrated”. They are not, and they do not. Indeed, the claim is as ludicrous as saying that the Irish do not exist as a separate people from the British because Britain and Ireland were both originally inhabited by Celts, or because Britain once ruled over Ireland, or because Irish people today largely speak English (itself a result of colonial policy).

Russia and Ukraine do indeed share common historical and linguistic roots. Both states have origins in the so-called Kyivan Rus’, and both languages originally derive from the Old East Slavic branch of languages. However, this is where Putin and reality part ways, because after the disintegration of Kyivan Rus’ in the 13th century, what are today Russia and Ukraine developed as completely separate cultural and political entities. Russia developed through the frontier principality of the Duchy of Moscow (a highly militaristic polity shaped by centuries of frontier insecurity)[3].

Ukraine, meanwhile, developed through the culturally distinct Kingdom of Galicia-Volhynia, which spent most of its subsequent history under the control and influence of other powers such as the Poles and Austrians, and with large cultural and political influence from the Cossacks. The burgeoning Duchy of Moscow (later becoming the Tsardom of Russia), at first gained control over a small region of Ukrainian lands on the eastern bank of the Dnipro (which it strategically labelled ‘Little Russia’) in the 17th century. In the late 18th century, with the expansions of Catherine II, they went on to annex the majority of Ukrainian territories from the Poles (as well as Tatar-inhabited Crimea).

But regardless of political borders or ruling powers, ethnic Ukrainians continued to develop a distinct and evolving culture and language. Having separated from their common roots many centuries prior, Modern Ukrainian and Russian languages, therefore, share about as much similarity as English and Dutch. In fact, Ukrainian today is more closely related lexically to Polish than Russian.

During all periods of colonial subjugation, ethnic Ukrainians were largely marginalised by the empires that ruled them. Ukrainian, therefore, largely survived as a spoken language through the illiterate peasantry until its renaissance from the 18th century onwards. This was largely thanks to the efforts of nationalist writers such as Taras Shevchenko and Ivan Franko, who promoted the use of written Ukrainian and inspired national consciousness.

Ukraine had several failed attempts at independence during the 20th century, before finally succeeding with the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. But Ukraine’s struggle for autonomy didn’t end there. Post-1991, Ukraine’s economy still remained heavily tied to Moscow despite many Ukrainians and their leaders seeing their future in greater ties with Europe and the West. However, Russia, like a bitter, jealous ex, was not willing to let Ukraine walk out on them. As a hangover from the Soviet period, the Ukrainian state remained deeply plagued with corruption and abuses of power, which the Kremlin regularly sought to exploit.

In the 2004 presidential election, pro-Western candidate Viktor Yushchenko was poisoned with dioxin in a failed assassination attempt, with Moscow’s handpicked candidate Viktor Yanukovych being declared the winner, amidst widespread claims of election fraud. This led to mass protests known as the Orange Revolution, the result of which was a repeat of elections in which Yushchenko was declared the legitimate winner. Regardless, Yanukovych went on to be declared the winner of the next election in 2010, after which he jailed his opponent Yulia Tymoshenko, who had been one of the leaders of the Orange Revolution.

From 2008, the then pro-European Yushchenko government had begun negotiating Ukraine’s accession to the European Union (European Union–Ukraine Association Agreement). However, when Yanukovych suddenly tore up the agreement in November 2013 and instead announced an economic agreement with Russia, it led to the largest demonstrations in Ukraine’s history (known as the Revolution of Dignity), with hundreds of thousands occupying Kyiv’s Maidan Square. Yanukovych’s pro-government forces brutally cracked down on the demonstrators, killing more than a hundred. However, with the political climate reaching fever pitch, Yanukovych eventually fled to Russia in February 2014, with the Ukrainian parliament declaring him an outlaw.

Moscow baselessly accused its ultimate boogeyman, “the West”, of “instigating a coup” in Ukraine (a bad case of projection, perhaps), and in “response”, invaded and annexed Crimea later that same month. It then began a mass propaganda effort to rile up ethnic Russians in Eastern Ukraine against the incumbent government in Kyiv. Russia falsely claimed that the Russian-speaking Ukrainians in these regions were overwhelmingly pro-Russian and were under attack by Kyiv. Studies show, however, that the majority of them did not support secession and continued to identify with and support the Ukrainian state. Nevertheless, Russia supplied separatist groups with soldiers and weapons (including the missile system that shot down flight MH-17), supporting the overthrow of their regional governments. This sparked the War in the Donbas, which continued up until Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

We have seen how fear of an independent Ukraine has its historical roots in Russian imperialism. But why did Putin revive it with such zeal, and why does he view it as a zero-sum game? Well, Putin, like many Russians today, subscribes to an obsolete and delusional jingoistic worldview, where he is the tsar of a powerful Russian empire rather than a crumbling middle power; a worldview also marked by distrust of its neighbours and historical paranoia about invasion. Part of this doctrine is that of “might makes right”, where intimidation and coercion are the most effective strategies to achieve foreign policy goals, rather than building mutually beneficial relationships. Putin’s vision is to have a network of like-minded, Kremlin-friendly regimes in Europe, as he already has in Belarus, and with various pro-Kremlin puppets in Eastern Europe and elsewhere.

Putin’s foreign policy largely reflects his kleptocratic regime within Russia as well, which essentially runs the country mafia-style. Putin and a small group of oligarchs siphon off the nation’s wealth into private fortunes and brutally silence anyone who challenges them. That is why in 2025, Russia ranked equal first as the most unequal country on the planet and ranked 157 out of 184 for corruption (Corruption Perceptions Index), below Honduras and the Central African Republic. Therefore, despite being the largest nation on the planet with the largest reserves of natural resources, Russia has an economy roughly the size of the state of New York, and an average wealth per person lower than that of Thailand and South Africa. It has little innovation, stagnant growth, and rife regional poverty.

Ukraine playing its own game, on its own terms, and God forbid, succeeding, is what Putin wants to avoid at all costs. He cannot bear the thought of Ukraine joining the EU or NATO, nor for it to grow economically and free of corruption. Basically, “if we can’t have freedom, security and prosperity, then neither can you!” This way of operating is sometimes referred to as ‘crab bucket mentality’. It comes from the observation that crabs in a bucket, rather than attempting to escape together, will often pull escaping crabs back down into the bucket with them.

While Ukraine certainly has development and corruption issues of its own (largely due to the Soviet legacy and Russian influence), one thing is clear among Ukrainians. They look at Russia and its puppets, and say “thanks, but no thanks!” What sets Ukrainians apart from the majority of Russians is that they deeply believe in their future and are willing to fight and shed blood for it. They will not accept anything short of their freedom and self-determination because they know what the alternative is. This is partly why Putin greatly underestimated Ukraine’s resistance during his invasion. He expected them to accept the overwhelming power difference and simply roll over. But they resisted, and they continue to resist.

So while Russia desperately attempts to hold onto its fantasies of Empire, the fact is that Putin so badly needs to erase Ukrainian independence because of what it symbolises — that freedom is possible. Ukraine is a constant reminder to the Russian people of what they could have, and yet do not. When Ukrainian protesters stood their ground in Maidan in the winter of 2014, it sent the message “your corrupt leaders are not as invincible as you think!” And this seed, planted into the public consciousness, is precisely what dictators fear the most. It is then perhaps no coincidence that Russia’s invasion of Ukraine came at a time when Putin’s political opponents, notably Alexei Navalny, had been exposing the social decay and corruption of Putin’s Russia to great effect, causing widespread outrage directed at his regime.

Today, in the occupied regions of Ukraine, Russia is embarking on a renewed policy of Ukrainian persecution and Russification, banning the Ukrainian language and abducting Ukrainian children, “re-educating” them in pro-Russian ideology. However, if Putin’s goal is to destroy Ukraine’s national consciousness, then the opposite has been the effect. After independence, Ukraine embarked on a process to gradually restore Ukrainian as the national language. However, a large percentage of the country continued to speak Russian as their mother tongue, and due to the complicated history, many Ukrainians continued to feel some cultural affinity with Russia, with many having family ties within Russia.

However, since the war, whatever affinity may have been felt has been squashed into a pulp. The war has exponentially sped up Ukraine’s political, economic and cultural decoupling from Russia and its de-russification— the exact opposite of what Putin wanted. Putin has also ironically brought Ukraine’s national plight to the attention of the world, encouraging us to be active witnesses and preservers of its culture, history and language — I will never again mistakenly spell Kyiv as Kiev!

And so, while Ukraine continues to fight for its survival on the frontlines, I would posit that Russia has already lost this war, in symbolic terms at the very least. Regardless of its failed military objectives and broader strategic goals, it has deeply strengthened, rather than undermined, Ukraine’s unity and national consciousness — their sense of self.

What differentiates Ukrainians from Russians is that they know exactly who they are and what they are not. This gives them hope, a flame, which cannot be extinguished with bullets and bombs. Victor Hugo once said, “No army can withstand the strength of an idea whose time has come.” That idea: we are proud Ukrainians, and we most certainly are not you…

Happy Independence Day, Ukraine!

[1] Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf, Ford translation, (Elite Minds Inc, 2009), p. 1

[2] Vladimir Putin, On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians, 12 July 2021, https://www.legal-tools.org/doc/tt382m/pdf (accessed April 2025)

[3] Richard Pipes, Russia Under the Old Regime, (London: Penguin Books, 1974), pp. 74–75

We are not you. was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Original post in Ukrainian

— “Why are you living in my head? I hate you!”

— “Well, you made that choice yourself. Let me remind you, in case you’ve forgotten: it was in early spring of ’22. You chose me. Hahaha. Many people chose me.”

— “You’re a ravenous monster!”

— “Wrong again. I feed monsters. I am just one manifestation of your human nature. I am your DNA. I have always been with you, for 40,000 years. I am part of you. Although… there was one man almost 2,000 years ago. I didn’t like him. He wanted to prove that you were made of different stuff… Do you know what you did to him? Hahaha. I’ll tell you: you took him and nailed him to logs and, just to be sure, used a spear. An outdated tool, by the way. I’m glad I have more effective toys now. And your drones just amuse and delight me. Good job, guys. Hahaha.”

— “Wherever you go, there’s nothing but grief and destruction. When most people come to hate you like I do — you’ll disappear!”

— “Oh, you really want to entertain me. Hahaha. First of all, hatred is my fuel. Do you want to put out a fire with gasoline? And secondly, the fact that we’re talking doesn’t make you different from the others. You don’t want to be like everyone else, but the only question is when this creature will awaken inside you. Didn’t you tell yourself: ‘Justice is the rule of the strong, and your weakness makes you guilty’? And who said: ‘If you want peace, prepare for war,’ huh? You need me. I am an integral part of you. So until you meet me fully — enjoy your life.”

— “You’re like a robber — you’ve taken that opportunity away.”

— “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I’m just showing who’s who, tearing off people’s masks. Their hypocrisy irritates me. Everything else is a personal choice. They think their success, their invented status, gives them the right to believe they are better, more important, and superior to others. But in that final and crucial moment, before meeting death, a person reveals their true nature. I love watching those last seconds of life — they are so decisive and important. It’s my favorite passtime… Hahaha…!

I am neither God nor the devil. I am simply, the choice of humanity, for now. And by the way, even though you keep trying to insult me, I’m not that bad. At least in our relationship, I am honest. You have learned more about yourself than in your entire life before me. And that’s useful, isn’t it? Hahaha!

And one more thing — I want to give you some friendly advice: don’t try to deceive yourself about the nature of things, don’t convince yourself that IT doesn’t live inside you — facing the truth could break you. Just avoid opportunities to face your inner monster…! See, I’m worried about you, ahahaha… after all, we’re going to be living together for a long time, maybe your whole life.”

— “Don’t make yourself a Caesar. You’re disgusting and unnecessary…”

— “Shut up! Don’t make me angry! Thanks to me, you’ll learn what has real value when I’m busy with others. And you’ve felt it, I know. You’re ungrateful creatures and never learn — that’s why I’m immortal!!!”

— “Die, bitch!”

— “Hahaha. Only with you… only with you… But your aggression calms and inspires me. Hahaha! See you soon… Hahaha!!”

Nazar from Vinnytsia is a member of the Armed Forces of Ukraine and a student member of Balakun you can read more about the author here.

ПСИХОДЕЛІЯ

— «Навіщо ти живеш у моїй голові? Я ненавиджу тебе!»

— «Ну, ти сам зробив цей вибір. Нагадаю тобі, якщо забув: на початку весни 22-го. Ти вибрав мене. Ахахах. Мене багато хто вибрав».

— «Ти ненажерлива потвора!»

— «Знову помиляєшся. Я годую потвор. Я лише один із проявів вашої людської сутності. Я — ваше ДНК. Я завжди була з вами всі 40 000 років. Я — частина вас. Хоча ні… була одна людина майже 2000 років тому. Неприємний мені тип. Хотів показати, що ви з іншого тіста… Знаєш, що ви з ним зробили? Ахахаха. А я тобі скажу: ви взяли й прибили його до колод і, щоб напевно, використали спис. До речі, старомодний інструмент. Я рада, що тепер у мене є більш дієві іграшки. Ну а ваші дрони мене просто веселять і радують. Ви молодці. Ахахах».

— «Після тебе — горе і руйнування. Коли більшість людей зненавидить тебе, як я, — ти зникнеш!»

— «Ну ти зовсім хочеш мене повеселити. Ахаха. По-перше, ненависть — це моє паливо. Ти хочеш загасити пожежу бензином? А по-друге, те, що ми розмовляємо, не вирізняє тебе від інших. Ти не хочеш бути як усі, але питання лише в тому, коли це створіння прокинеться в тобі. Хіба не ти собі казав: “Справедливість — це правила сильних, а твоя слабкість робить тебе винним”? А хто сказав: “Хочеш миру — готуйся до війни”, а? Я потрібна вам. Я — ваша невід’ємна частина. Тож поки ти не зустрівся зі мною на повну — насолоджуйся життям».

— «Ти як грабіжник — забрала цю можливість».

— «Ой, ну от тільки не треба драматизувати. Я лише показую, хто є хто, зриваю маски з людей. Це лицемірство мене дратувало. А все інше — це особистий вибір. Вони думали, що їхні успіхи, їхній вигаданий статус дають їм право вважати, що вони кращі, важливіші за інших, вище . Але в цей останній і важливий момент, перед зустріччю зі смертю, людина проявляє свою сутність. Люблю спостерігати ці останні секунди життя — вони дуже вирішальні і важливі. Це моя улюблена розвага… Ахахах…!

Я не Бог і не диявол. Я лише наразі вибір людства. І, до речі, хоч ти постійно хочеш мене образити, я не така вже й погана. Принаймні, у наших відносинах я відверта. Ти дізнався про себе більше, ніж за все своє життя до мене. А це корисно, чи не так? Ахахаха!

І ще одне — хочу дати тобі дружню пораду: не намагайся обманути суть речей, не доводь собі, що ЦЕ не живе в тобі — викриття правди може зламати тебе. Просто уникай можливостей зустрітися з внутрішнім монстром…! От бачиш, я хвилююся за тебе, ахахаха…адже нам з тобою ще довго жити разом, можливо, все твоє життя».

— «Не роби з себе кесаря. Ти бридка і непотрібна…»

— «Заткнись! Не зли мене! Завдяки мені ви дізнаєтесь, що має справжню цінність, коли я зайнята іншими. І ти це відчував, я знаю. Ви невдячні істоти і ніколи не робите висновків — тому я безсмертна!!!»

— «Здохни, сука!»

— «Ахахаха. Тільки разом із вами… тільки разом із вами… Але твоя агресія мене заспокоює і надихає. Ахахаха! До скорої зустрічі… Ахахаха!!»

Назар із Вінниці — військовослужбовець Збройних сил України та студент-учасник проекту «Балакун». Більше про автора можна дізнатися тут.

Psychedelia was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

AIR DEFENCE MATRIX HISTORICAL SERIES

BOOK I

The Unsolved Problem of Air Defense

For as long as mankind has taken to the skies, defenders have searched for a perfect shield. A single weapon. A final answer. A decisive solution that would end the threat from above. This search has taken many forms across history, yet the result has always been the same: the grail remains out of reach.

From the night raids of early air warfare to mass bomber formations, from guided missiles to modern aerial threats, every generation believed it stood at the edge of mastery. Each discovered instead that the sky is never fully conquered. It shifts, adapts, and returns in new form.

The “Excalibur” of air defense does not exist as a single sword. It is not a missile, a gun, a radar, or an aircraft. It is a system forged from awareness, coordination, persistence, and layered defense. A living web rather than a single blade.

The lesson of history is clear: the quest was never about finding one perfect weapon. It was about learning how to weave many imperfect tools into one resilient shield.

Air defense is not a solved problem.
It is an enduring pursuit.

World War I — The Birth of the Air Threat

The First Awakening

The modern struggle began when German airships crossed the night sky, striking cities far from the battlefield. Defenders faced a new reality: war had gained a vertical dimension. Detection was weak, reaction slow, and interception uncertain.

In response came the first layered thinking:

• Searchlights scanning the dark
• Anti-aircraft guns reaching upward
• Airburst munitions detonating in the sky

For the first time, defense became a system, not a weapon. The central challenge emerged and would echo through every era.

The Birth of Air Defense in Depth

The first true test of air defense came during the First World War, when civilians were forced to confront a new and terrifying reality: the battlefield had expanded into the sky. German airships and early bombers crossed borders under the cover of darkness, striking cities far from the front lines. For the first time in modern war, ordinary people looked upward at night not with wonder, but with fear.

Warning was limited. Detection was uncertain. The sound of engines in the darkness carried psychological weight far beyond the physical damage inflicted. The sky had become a new avenue of vulnerability.

In response, defenders began to construct what would later be recognized as the earliest form of air defense in depth:

• Searchlights swept the night sky, attempting to reveal hidden threats
• Anti-aircraft guns fired into predicted paths rather than visible targets
• Airburst munitions created defensive zones in the air
• Observation networks reported movement across regions

Though primitive, these measures represented the first attempt to build a layered defensive system, rather than rely on a single weapon.

The objective was not perfect interception, which was rarely possible, but reducing vulnerability and imposing resistance across multiple layers.

The Sound Before the Bombs

The Zeppelin and the First Psychological Air Threat

Long before mass bomber formations dominated the skies of later wars, the slow, haunting drone of Zeppelin airships carried fear across cities at night. Their attacks were not always devastating in physical terms, yet their psychological impact was profound. Civilians listened in darkness for the distant hum of engines, uncertain where the bombs would fall, knowing the threat could arrive from above without warning.

This was one of the first demonstrations that air power affects both the battlefield and the mind.

In the early years, interception was difficult. Detection was limited, and defensive systems were immature. The Zeppelin operated at altitude and often under cover of darkness, exploiting the defender’s slow reaction time.

Yet by 1918, the defensive system began to adapt:

• Faster fighter aircraft improved interception capability
• Searchlights increased detection and tracking at night
• Anti-aircraft gunnery became more accurate and coordinated
• Defensive layering reduced the effectiveness of large-scale raids

The result was a gradual shift. Zeppelin and bomber forces were increasingly forced to attack at night, in smaller formations, and with reduced operational freedom.

The sky had not been secured, but the defender had begun to shape the behavior of the attacker.

Historical Meaning

This phase of the war demonstrated an enduring truth of air defense:

The goal is not always complete destruction of the threat.
The goal is to limit its effectiveness, reduce its freedom, and force adaptation.

By pushing attackers into less favorable conditions, early air defense systems achieved strategic impact without perfect interception.

Innovation, Adaptation, and the First Interceptor Doctrine

The First World War marked the arrival of powerful new weapon systems, whose employment and doctrine were still poorly understood. In many ways, this mirrors modern conflict, where technology evolves faster than the systems designed to use it. Early aviation introduced an entirely new domain of warfare, yet its effective use required experimentation, adaptation, and learning under pressure.

The early use of the biplane reflected this transition. Air units were initially employed in ways similar to cavalry, conducting reconnaissance, observation, and later interception. Squadron formations began to emerge, not yet refined, but representing the first organized use of aircraft to control the airspace.

Anti-aircraft artillery during this period was largely ineffective against high-altitude threats. Zeppelin airships often operated at altitudes approaching 11,000 feet, placing them beyond the reliable reach of early gun systems. Detection was limited, engagement was uncertain, and interception was difficult.

What proved increasingly effective was the development of fighter interceptor tactics. Dedicated aircraft were tasked with hunting and engaging aerial threats rather than merely observing them. A critical innovation was the introduction of incendiary ammunition, capable of igniting the hydrogen-filled airships. This transformed interception from harassment into destruction and forced enemy airships to alter tactics, operate at night, and reduce operational freedom.

This phase of the war demonstrated several enduring principles:

• New technology requires new doctrine
• Early systems are often inefficient until adapted
• Interceptors can compensate for limitations of ground-based defense
• Effective defense shapes enemy behavior, even without total control

The experience of World War I showed that air defense evolves through adaptation, not perfection. The defender does not begin with mastery. Mastery is learned through response to a changing threat.

The First Sound Hunters — Acoustic Detection and Early Warning

Before radar existed, defenders searched for ways to detect aerial threats beyond visual range. One of the earliest innovations in air defense detection was the development of acoustic locators, sometimes called “sound mirrors” or “sound horns.” These large listening devices were designed to capture and amplify the sound of approaching aircraft and airships long before they became visible.

Observers using these systems could determine the direction of incoming threats by analyzing engine noise. Though primitive, acoustic detection provided one of the first forms of early warning, giving defenders valuable time to prepare searchlights, anti-aircraft guns, and interceptor aircraft.

Acoustic detection introduced several foundational concepts that remain central to air defense today:

• Detection before visual contact
• Early warning increases reaction time
• Sensors must work together with interceptors
• Awareness is the first layer of defense

While acoustic systems were eventually replaced by radar, their doctrinal importance remains. They represented the first attempt to create a sensor-driven defensive network, linking detection, tracking, and interception into a coordinated response.

Doctrinal Insight

The sound hunters of World War I proved that air defense begins with awareness. Even imperfect detection systems can shift the balance by providing time and direction. The defender does not need perfect vision. The defender needs early warning and coordinated reaction.

This principle continues to define modern air defense systems, where multiple sensors combine to form a unified picture of the airspace.

The Evolution of Anti-Aircraft Guns

From Weakness to Adaptation (1914–1918)

In the early years of the First World War, anti-aircraft artillery faced severe limitations. Guns struggled with altitude, slow targeting, poor fire control, and unreliable prediction of aerial movement. Zeppelin airships often operated above the effective reach of early anti-aircraft systems, while night operations further reduced engagement accuracy. As a result, early anti-aircraft fire was frequently ineffective, and interception depended heavily on searchlights and fighter aircraft.

Yet, as with all aspects of air defense, adaptation followed necessity.

By 1918, anti-aircraft systems had improved significantly through both technical and doctrinal development:

• Improved fire control and prediction methods increased engagement accuracy
• Better coordination with searchlights and observers improved tracking at night
• Mobile anti-aircraft guns allowed repositioning to protect key targets and respond to changing threat directions
• Higher-velocity guns and improved ammunition increased effective engagement altitude
• Integration with interceptor aircraft created layered defense rather than isolated gunfire

While anti-aircraft artillery alone still could not guarantee interception, its improved mobility and coordination transformed it into a critical component of a broader defensive system.

Doctrinal Insight

The experience of World War I demonstrated a lasting principle: weakness in a single system does not signal failure, but the need for integration and adaptation. Anti-aircraft guns became effective not through isolation, but through coordination with detection, illumination, and interception.

This marked one of the earliest examples of layered air defence in practice, where multiple imperfect systems combined to produce meaningful defensive capability.

Echo Into the Present

The distant sound of engines in the night, the uncertainty of direction, and the psychological weight placed upon civilians remain recurring elements in modern aerial warfare. Technology has changed, but the human experience of aerial threat has not.

Air defence continues to serve two purposes:

• Physical protection
• Psychological stabilization of the population

The drone of the Zeppelin was the first warning that the sky itself could become a battlefield. That lesson has echoed through every era since.

Closing — The Path Continues

The first chapter of the quest ends not with victory, but with understanding.

In the fires of the First World War, defenders learned that the sky could no longer be ignored. From the darkness came the drone of engines, the first layered defences, the birth of interception, and the realization that no single weapon could command the air. The search for the Grail began not in certainty, but in necessity.

What was built between 1914 and 1918 was imperfect, fragile, and incomplete, yet it revealed a truth that would echo through every generation of warfare: air defence is not a weapon, but a system. Not a moment, but a process. Not an answer, but a pursuit.

The Grail was not found.
But the path toward it was revealed.

And so the journey continues.

In the chapters ahead, the quest will follow the evolution of detection, interception, and integrated defence as technology, doctrine, and conflict reshape the battle for the sky. From the birth of radar to the rise of missile defence and beyond, each era will bring new answers — and new questions.

I will follow the quest through history, seeking not a single blade, but the forging of a shield.

The Quest for the Holy Grail was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

This publication compiles and combines a full analytical discussion on the evolution of civilian maritime platforms as military launch systems for drones and aircraft. Drawing from historical precedent, modern gray-zone operations, and emerging new Chinese and Russian doctrine, this paper traces the continuity of thought from Cold War British improvisation to today’s containerized, civilian-masked drone ecosystems.

The central argument is that the true innovation is not the drone, but the disappearance of the carrier as a recognizable military object. The modern battle space is defined by ambiguity, logistics, and activation timing rather than platforms and visible force projection.

ABSTRACT
Recent reports of unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) activity in contested maritime regions such as the Baltic Sea have raised urgent questions regarding launch vectors, attribution, and escalation control. While existing commentary often frames these developments as novel or technologically disruptive, this paper argues that the underlying concept is neither new nor revolutionary. Rather, it represents the culmination of a doctrinal lineage stretching back to Cold War British practicality, refined through U.S. special operations afloat basing, and now fully weaponized by state actors such as China and Russia through containerization, civilian masking, and gray-zone activation. The true innovation is not the drone itself, but the disappearance of the carrier as a recognizable military platform.

Recent Public discourse increasingly treats maritime drone swarms as an unprecedented threat. This framing obscures a more important reality: the method of employment, not the technology, is what has changed. Drones merely enable a concept that militaries have explored for over sixty years — the use of civilian or auxiliary platforms as aviation launch systems in environments where traditional bases and carriers are vulnerable.

1. INTRODUCTION: THE MODERN DRONE CARRIER PROBLEM

China, Iran, and Russia have demonstrated that traditional aircraft carrier concepts are increasingly vulnerable, expensive, and politically escalatory. Smaller drone carriers and auxiliary platforms represent a transitional phase. The true shift is away from single, visible decks toward distributed, deniable launch architecture embedded in civilian logistics.

THE DEATH OF THE SINGLE BIG DECK? I don’t believe so, it will still have its mission even in the age of drones. Her ability to launch multirole aircraft, will still be needed but at a huge upkeep in her defensive capability.

Large carriers represent single points of failure though, finite deck capacity to already on board manned squadrons and strategic escalation risk. Modern adversaries instead favor distributed nodes capable of launching, sustaining, and re-tasking drones without concentrating risk, fading into the sunset like some ghost pirate ship.

2. BRITISH ORIGINS — AUSTERE AVIATION AND MERCHANT CONVERSION

As early as the 1960s, British defense planners emphasized austere aviation, improvisation, and dispersed basing. This philosophy directly influenced the development of VTOL aircraft, particularly the Harrier, and drove operational concepts centered on operating fixed-wing aviation from short, damaged, or improvised platforms. The British approach explicitly considered the use of non-traditional and merchant shipping as aviation platforms in order to compensate for limited carrier capacity and budgetary constraints.

The Falklands War served as a critical accelerator for this innovative thinking. Operational necessity forced rapid adaptation, validating many concepts that had previously existed only in planning and experimentation. The conflict demonstrated that merchant conversion and austere aviation were not merely contingency concepts, but viable tools for expeditionary warfare under real combat conditions.

The conversion and employment of civilian vessels during the campaign demonstrated both the value and vulnerability of this approach. The use of merchant ships to support aviation operations enabled rapid force projection far from established bases. However, the loss of Atlantic Conveyor revealed the central vulnerability of civilian conversion. Once identified as militarized, a converted civilian vessel became a legitimate and highly vulnerable military target.

The enduring lesson was clear: conversion works, but visibility kills. Civilian-pattern vessels provide operational flexibility and surge capacity, but once their military role is exposed, they lose the protection of ambiguity and become high-value, lightly defended assets.

At the same time, British experimentation with VTOL aviation during and after the Falklands foreshadowed many modern concepts of dispersed maritime aviation. The Harrier enabled operations from small decks, merchant conversions, and austere platforms. This in turn supported early thinking on using commercial shipping for shipping-lane defense, coastal operations, and expeditionary air support. These innovations established many of the conceptual foundations for today’s containerized, modular, and auxiliary aviation platforms.

Over time, institutional paths diverged. The United States invested heavily in purpose-built amphibious aviation ships such as LPDs, LHAs, and LHDs, integrating aviation into formal naval force structure. The United Kingdom, by contrast, experienced a prolonged reduction in expeditionary and auxiliary aviation-capable platforms following the retirement of earlier carrier and support classes. This divergence reduced British capacity for large-scale merchant conversion experimentation, even as the underlying concepts remained valid.

This history directly informs modern unmanned doctrine. The British experience demonstrates that improvised and merchant-based aviation is not a theoretical construct, but a proven operational method. The Falklands War showed that crisis and combat pressure accelerate innovation — a pattern now repeating in Ukraine and elsewhere. The critical variable is no longer whether conversion is possible, but whether navies can preserve ambiguity, survivability, and distributed employment — lessons now being rediscovered in the era of chameleon-class drone carriers and jack-in-the-box launch systems.

3. U.S. CONTINUATION — AUXILIARY AND DRONE CARRIER GAP

The United States has institutionalized auxiliary and special operations afloat basing through expeditionary sea base ships and converted logistics platforms. These vessels support ISR, rotary-wing aviation, special operations, and command-and-control roles. However, they retain core assumptions of clear military identity, high-value manned aircraft, and traditional aviation sortie models.

At present, the United States is not fully postured around the concept of a dedicated or auxiliary drone carrier. This represents a potential failure of foresight. The future battle space increasingly favors low-cost, attractable, unmanned air and surface systems deployed at scale. Auxiliary drone carriers or escort-style drone carriers could be employed to directly support Carrier Strike Groups (CSGs) and Amphibious Ready Groups / PHIBRONs by providing persistent ISR, counter-UAS coverage, maritime strike, decoy operations, and distributed launch capability.

Such platforms would not replace nuclear carriers but rather extend and harden the carrier air wing by distributing unmanned launch capacity, reducing dependence on a single high-value flight deck, and enabling forward, ambiguous, and expendable operations. This model mirrors historical escort carrier logic, adapted for unmanned systems rather than manned aircraft.

The U.S. Navy has already demonstrated growing interest in unmanned fast-attack and reconnaissance platforms, particularly through USV's such as Ranger and Mariner, as well as MUSV/LUSV experimentation. These vessels represent ideal candidate hulls or conceptual templates for conversion into unmanned launch, recovery, charging, and control platforms. Properly configured, such platforms could serve as fast, distributed drone carriers capable of supporting UAV and USV operations in contested littoral and open-ocean environments.

If the United States does not deliberately develop auxiliary drone carrier doctrine and platforms, adversaries will continue to exploit the gap through low-visibility, deniable, and commercially masked drone carrier concepts. This will place U.S. naval forces in a reactive posture, rather than shaping the operational environment. As seen in the Baltic and elsewhere, the ability to launch, recover, and sustain unmanned systems from ambiguous or auxiliary platforms is rapidly becoming a defining feature of maritime competition.

HISTORICAL PRECEDENT — EXPERIMENTATION AS DOCTRINAL INFLECTION

World navies have a long and consistent history of experimentation when introducing revolutionary weapons systems. Transformational naval capabilities rarely begin as purpose-built capital ships; instead, they emerge through conversion, adaptation, and doctrinal trial.

The United States Navy provides a clear precedent. USS Langley (CV-1) was originally commissioned as a collier and sea tender (USS Jupiter). She was later converted into the U.S. Navy’s first aircraft carrier. At the time, naval aviation was unproven, and the concept of the aircraft carrier had not yet been fully accepted as a decisive capital ship. The Langley was therefore not a final solution, but a doctrinal test bed — a platform to experiment, validate concepts, and develop operational art.

This pattern has repeated across naval history:

· Seaplane tenders as precursors to carrier aviation.

· Converted merchant hulls as escort carriers in WWII.

· Missile cruisers emerging from gun cruiser conversions.

· Amphibious ships evolving into aviation-capable platforms.

In each case, navies did not wait for perfect, purpose-built platforms. They adapted existing hulls to test emerging operational concepts, refine doctrine, and accelerate learning under real-world conditions.

The unmanned systems revolution follows the same trajectory. Auxiliary drone carriers, converted logistics ships, expeditionary sea bases, or modified commercial hulls would serve a role analogous to Langley: not as final capital ships, but as doctrinal incubators for unmanned aviation at sea. These platforms would allow navies to develop tactics, command-and-control, sustainment, and distributed launch concepts for unmanned systems before committing to purpose-built drone carriers.

Failure to experiment early risks repeating historical patterns in reverse — allowing adversaries to mature concepts first, forcing reactive adaptation rather than doctrinalleadership. Just as Langley enabled the U.S. Navy to shape carrier aviation before others, auxiliary drone carriers could enable early dominance in unmanned maritime aviation.

4. DRONES AS THE INFLECTION POINT

Unmanned systems remove traditional operational constraints. UAVs are inexpensive, expendable, and unmanned. Recovery is optional. Persistence now matters more than sortie generation. This inverts traditional doctrine and enables deliberate ambiguity in force employment and basing.

The modern carrier is no longer defined solely as a ship. To keep pace with modern conflict, the concept of the carrier must evolve. The carrier is not only a now any location-capable platform for storing, charging, updating, and launching drones — it can including truck launchers , warehouses, merchant ships, railcars, forward logistics hubs, and improvised maritime platforms.

This does not argue that the aircraft carrier is obsolete. It argues that the carrier, as a concept, is undergoing a doctrinal transformation. To remain dominant, traditional carriers must integrate and prioritize large-scale unmanned aviation as a core function, not a supporting capability. The future carrier must be a mothership for swarms, a command node for autonomous systems, and a logistics hub for rapid regeneration of unmanned combat power.

Furthermore, the ease of adapting pre-existing merchant hulls fundamentally changes naval force structure. Commercial vessels can be rapidly converted into drone flat-tops, auxiliary drone carriers, and mobile launch platforms. This creates a low-cost, high-ambiguity force multiplier that complicates enemy targeting, expands operational reach, and enables distributed maritime and littoral operations at scale.

In modern conflict, the carrier is no longer a single platform. It is a networked function. Nations that fail to adapt will retain impressive symbols of power — but lose practical dominance of the unmanned battlespace.

5. EMERGING LAUNCH SYSTEMS — “JACK-IN-THE-BOX” DRONE DEPLOYMENT.

Across the defense and commercial unmanned systems industry, a growing focus has emerged on rapid-deployment, containerized, and concealed launch systems. Informally referred to here as “jack-in-the-box” drone systems, (not referencing the Irish system form 2018), these concepts center on platforms that remain dormant, concealed, or blended into civilian or auxiliary infrastructure until the moment of launch.

These systems are designed to enable rapid activation, minimal signature, and distributed deployment. Common characteristics include:

· Containerized launch modules disguised as standard ISO shipping containers.

· Pop-up vertical or angled launch mechanisms that deploy UAVs in seconds.

· Pre-loaded drone racks with automated power, charging, and data update systems.

· Minimal crew requirements, enabling semi-autonomous or remote-controlled operation.

· Low observability, blending into commercial, logistics, or auxiliary vessel profiles.

The operational value of jack-in-the-box systems is not the individual drone, but the ability to create uncertainty in location, timing, and attribution. A vessel, truck, railcar, warehouse, or auxiliary ship can function as a latent launch platform, converting ordinary logistics or civilian-pattern infrastructure into a rapid unmanned sortie generator.

From a naval perspective, this has profound implications. Containerized and pop-up launch systems allow auxiliary vessels, expeditionary sea bases, logistics ships, and even small surface combatants or USVs to act as distributed drone carriers without requiring traditional flight decks or aviation infrastructure. Launch, recovery (if required), charging, and mission upload can all be conducted within modular spaces.

This approach directly supports the auxiliary drone carrier and chameleon carrier concept. Rather than relying on visible, high-signature flight decks, jack-in-the-box systems enable:

· Distributed launch points across multiple hulls.

· Reduced vulnerability to single-point failure.

· Ambiguous military identity, complicating targeting and escalation decisions.

· Rapid surge capacity, enabling mass launch on demand.

· Scalable deployment, from a handful of drones to swarm-level operations.

In effect, these systems transform almost any suitable hull into a latent drone carrier. This mirrors historical transitions in naval warfare, where weapons systems migrated from specialized platforms to distributed, modular installations — such as missile systems moving from dedicated cruisers to vertical launch systems across multiple ship classes.

For the United States and allied navies, failure to integrate jack-in-the-box drone launch concepts into doctrine and fleet architecture risks ceding initiative to adversaries who are already embracing containerized, deniable, and modular launch systems. Conversely, deliberate adoption would allow U.S. forces to rapidly field auxiliary drone carriers, escort-drone ships, and unmanned mothership concepts without waiting for new hull construction.

6. CHINA’S INDUSTRIALIZED AMBIGUITY
China has scaled the concept copping the Iranian program through containerized drone launch systems aboard civilian-appearing vessels. The container becomes the weapon system. Any ship can be a carrier, any port a base, and any route a pre-positioning corridor.

The Death of the “Single Big Deck” Concept?

China and Iran didn’t copy U.S. supercarriers — they sidestepped them.

They recognized three weaknesses of US-style carriers:

· Single point of failure.

Finite deck & hangar space:

· Escalation risk (a carrier loss = strategic catastrophe).

· Their “drone carriers” aren’t power-projection symbols.

· They’re distributed aviation nodes.

But even those are transitional.

The People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN), has in resent year has quickly adopted any battle space innovation in the world to it armed forces, and the carrier of various types is one such program. What they do with it is still left to be seen, but we can guess that like the old German U-boats , they will be able to harass shipping lanes, control sea corridors inexpensively, and project terror for as far of the max range of that weapon system.

7. REAL-WORLD VALIDATION — IRIS Shahid Bagheri AND THE NORMALIZATION OF DRONE CARRIERS.

The IRIS Shahid Bagheri is a drone carrier operated by the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps Navy. It is the result of the 2022–2024 conversion of the container ship Perarin. This conversion represents one of the first modern, operational examples of a civilian-pattern commercial vessel being deliberately transformed into a dedicated unmanned aviation platform.

While history is filled with examples of transport and cargo ships being armed or converted for wartime roles, Iran is among the first states to explicitly field a converted commercial hull as a purpose-built drone launch platform. This marks a significant inflection point: the transition of unmanned aviation from experimental or auxiliary use into a formalized, sea-based carrier role outside of traditional naval aviation forces.

Initially, the conversion was widely dismissed or treated dismissively by elements of the international intelligence and defense community. However, for analysts who recognized the early indicators, the implications were clear. The conversion of a civilian freighter into a drone carrier was not a novelty — it was a signal of doctrinal evolution. As operational details emerged, skepticism rapidly gave way to concern, as the platform demonstrated the feasibility of container-ship-based drone aviation.

In the modern context, particularly as the Russo-Ukrainian War enters its second year, innovation in the battlespace has demonstrated that imagination — not technology — is often the primary limiting factor. Ukraine and Russia have repeatedly shown how rapidly civilian, commercial, and improvised platforms can be weaponized and integrated into operational systems. The Shahid Bagheri fits squarely within this broader pattern of accelerated adaptation.

Taken together, this case validates the chameleon-class and auxiliary drone carrier thesis. It demonstrates that state actors are already operationalizing converted commercial vessels for unmanned aviation roles. What was once theoretical has now become precedent. The question is no longer whether such platforms will exist, but how widespread they will become — and whether Western navies will lead, adapt, or remain reactive to this emerging form of maritime unmanned warfare.

8. Russia and the Baltic: Maritime Masking and Drone Launch Platforms.

Russia employs long-standing methods of maritime deception and civilian-masked operations through its so-called ghost fleet and auxiliary vessels. The Baltic Sea, with its dense commercial traffic, short transit distances, and high degree of political ambiguity, provides an ideal operating environment for such activity. Within this context, ship-borne, containerized drone launch systems represent the most plausible explanation for recent unexplained drone activity in the region.

The use of civilian-appearing tenders, intelligence collection vessels, and dual-use ships as covert platforms is not new. Throughout the height of the Cold War, Soviet naval doctrine relied heavily on auxiliary and “research” vessels to conduct intelligence, surveillance, and special operations under civilian or neutral cover. That practice never ended — it merely evolved. Modern Russian maritime operations continue to exploit the legal and operational gray zones created by commercial shipping, flag-of-convenience registries, and loosely regulated port access.

International observers often underestimate both the historical capability and adaptability of the Russian Navy. While Russia has lost much of its traditional blue-water fleet strength since the end of the Cold War — most notably its Mediterranean presence and, at one point, even effective control of the Black Sea Fleet — this decline has not reduced its reliance on asymmetric and deniable maritime methods. Instead, it has increased Russia’s dependence on covert, civilian-masked platforms to project power, conduct reconnaissance, and enable drone and unmanned systems operations beyond the visibility of conventional naval forces.

In this sense, the Baltic Sea is not an anomaly — it is a testbed. It represents a modern continuation of Cold War-era maritime masking doctrine, updated for unmanned systems, containerized launch platforms, and hybrid naval-commercial operations.

Emerging Russian Drone Carrier Concepts.

With two of Russia’s principal strategic partners actively developing dedicated drone carrier platforms, it is increasingly likely that Russia will pursue a similar capability in the near term. The trend is consistent with Moscow’s broader shift toward unmanned and deniable power-projection systems as substitutes for traditional naval aviation and carrier-based strike capabilities.

Russia’s conventional carrier force is effectively in a state of terminal decline. The Admiral Kuznetsov, long plagued by mechanical failures, accidents, and extended refit cycles, has becomeoperationally irrelevant as a credible power-projection asset. Rather than recapitalize with a traditional aircraft carrier — an endeavor that would exceed Russia’s industrial, financial, and shipbuilding capacity under current conditions — Russia is far more likely to pursue lower-cost, asymmetric alternatives.

A drone carrier — whether purpose-built or converted from a commercial hull — offers a practical solution. Such platforms can support long-endurance ISR drones, one-way attack UAVs, FPV swarms, electronic warfare drones, and maritime reconnaissance systems. These vessels would be able to operate under civilian or auxiliary cover, blending into commercial traffic while providing launch, recovery, charging, and command-and-control functions for unmanned systems.

In effect, this represents a doctrinal shift from carrier aviation to carrier-enabled unmanned warfare. The ship becomes less a symbol of naval prestige and more a mobile, deniable drone base — aligned with Russia’s demonstrated preference for gray-zone operations, hybrid maritime tactics, and plausible deniability.

Given Russia’s industrial constraints and the erosion of its traditional carrier aviation capacity, the emergence of a Russian drone carrier capability is not speculative — it is a logical evolution. The new design pictured above was unveiled at the International Naval Defence Show (IMDS) “Fleet-2024” in Kronshtadt. This shows that the Russian are also looking into this development.

9. Strategic Consequences: The Collapse of Distinction.

Traditional distinctions between civilian and military, base and launcher, and peace and conflict are rapidly eroding. The emergence of containerized launch systems, civilian-masked platforms, and distributed unmanned operations has fundamentally altered the character of maritime and air-domain conflict.

The result is a battlespace in which attribution is delayed, escalation thresholds are obscured, and response options are politically and legally constrained.

Navies now face a structural dilemma: how to inspect, interdict, or attribute hostile activity without triggering escalation, violating international law, or disrupting legitimate commercial traffic. This dilemma itself becomes a weapon. Adversaries exploit inspection hesitation, legal ambiguity, and political risk aversion as operational tools, shaping the battlespace before a single shot is formally acknowledged.

Deconfliction zones — once designed to reduce the risk of inadvertent escalation — are becoming increasingly blurred. The same shipping lanes, ports, and sea lines of communication now serve simultaneously as commercial lifelines, intelligence platforms, and potential launch corridors. This convergence creates a dangerous precedent: areas traditionally considered neutral or stabilizing are becoming contested gray-zone battlespaces.

International waters are increasingly likely to become the primary domain of this new form of warfare. Ships can launch unmanned systems, fade back into commercial traffic, change flags, alter registries, and reappear under new identities. The ability to masquerade as civilian while conducting military operations effectively ushers in a new class of vessel — the chameleon warship — a platform defined not by armament alone, but by its ability to shift identity, role, and legal status on demand.

This evolution does not merely complicate naval operations; it undermines long-standing frameworks of maritime law, rules of engagement, and crisis management. The battlespace is no longer bounded by declared hostilities or clearly marked combatants. It is persistent, ambiguous, and deliberately designed to stay below traditional thresholds of war — until those thresholds are no longer meaningful.

Even when national coast guards or maritime authorities board suspect vessels, they may find no clear evidence of unmanned system activity. Containerized launch systems, modular control stations, and rapidly removable command-and-control equipment can be concealed, jettisoned, or reconfigured within hours. A ship can appear fully compliant during inspection while having conducted drone launches days — or even hours — earlier.

This creates a condition in which enforcement mechanisms are structurally outpaced by operational reality. The absence of physical evidence does not equate to the absence of hostile action. Instead, it reinforces a new operational model: launch, sanitize, blend, and deny. By the time an inspection occurs, the platform has reverted to a purely civilian appearance, leaving authorities with suspicion but no attribution, and no clear legal basis for escalation.

In effect, maritime inspection regimes — designed for weapons, contraband, and traditional military signatures — are ill-suited to detect modular, containerized, and software-driven unmanned warfare systems. This further empowers the chameleon warship concept, enabling adversaries to operate below the threshold of proof while remaining above the threshold of deniability.

10. END STATE — FLEETS ENDURE, DOCTRINE EVOLVES.

The future is not the abandonment of fleets and carriers. Claims that traditional naval doctrine is obsolete often misunderstand what doctrine truly represents. Doctrine is not a fixed method of warfighting; it is an adaptive framework that evolves with technology, threat, and operational environment. Fleets will not disappear. Carriers will not vanish. What will change is how power is generated, distributed, and protected.

Rather than signaling the end of fleets, the rise of unmanned systems and auxiliary drone carriers represents an expansion of the fleet concept. The carrier strike group will remain central, but it will increasingly operate within a broader ecosystem of distributed, unmanned, and ambiguous platforms that extend its reach and resilience.

In this end state, the role of the destroyer becomes more, not less, important. The destroyer must return to its foundational mission: carrier escort and fleet protection. Since the era of the Fletcher-class destroyers, the destroyer’s core purpose has been to screen high-value units, defend against submarines, aircraft, and surface threats, and preserve the freedom of maneuver of the fleet.

In the emerging environment, this escort role will expand to include persistent counter-UAS, counter-USV, and counter-unmanned-submarine capabilities. Destroyers will provide layered overwatch for the fleet, integrating air defense, electronic warfare, and undersea warfare to counter the growing unmanned threat spectrum.

At the same time, fleet survivability will no longer depend solely on visible, centralized platforms. It will depend on drone ecosystems sustained by hidden logistics, distributed launch nodes, and persistent operational ambiguity. Auxiliary drone carriers, chameleon-class platforms, and jack-in-the-box launch systems will not replace traditional warships — they will surround and support them, extending sensing, deception, strike, and saturation capacity.

The end state is therefore not a smaller fleet, but a more complex one: a hybrid force in which capital ships, destroyer escorts, unmanned systems, and auxiliary platforms operate as an integrated system. In this construct, power is not concentrated on a single flight deck, but distributed across a network of manned and unmanned nodes.

This is not the end of fleets. It is the return of fleet warfare — adapted for an era defined by drones, ambiguity, and distributed maritime operations.

CONCLUSION
What appears revolutionary is, in truth, a return to first principles. Britain explored it. The United States contained it. Iran weaponized it. Russia exploits it. China evolves it.

This does not mean the end of visible maritime power. Fleets will still sail. Ships will still be boarded. Sea lanes will still require protection. Traditional naval presence will remain necessary for control, deterrence, and enforcement.

What is changing is where decisive advantage is found. Alongside visible fleets, a quieter layer is forming — one built on ambiguity, logistics integration, modular platforms, and activation timing. Power is no longer expressed only through what is seen, but through what can be concealed, moved, and activated at the moment of choosing.

This is simply what I see. Others who are paid to think in these terms almost certainly see the same patterns. It is not a prediction, but a foreshadowing of what is already forming.

Maritime power is no longer declared. It is concealed, activated, and denied.

Images:

Image 1. https://www.graphicnews.com/en/pages/47533/military-europe-drone-incursions

https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2024/05/china-builds-worlds-first-dedicated-drone-carrier/

https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2025/02/iran-accepts-delivery-of-homegrown-drone-carrier-shahid-bahman-bagheri/

https://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/iran/irgcn-shahid-bagheri-pics.htm

https://briandimambro.com/products/russian-naval-power-soviet-fleets-world-map-1968-cold-war-information-map

https://www.uawire.org/russian-aircraft-carrier-admiral-kuznetsov-rusted-beyond-repair

https://www.edrmagazine.eu/nevskoye-design-bureau-is-working-to-shape-the-appearance-of-the-future-aircraft-carrier

https://www.flightglobal.com/flight-international/why-the-us-air-force-might-use-deception-and-uavs-hidden-in-shipping-containers-to-fight-china/136591.article

The Evolution of Civilian Maritime Platforms as Military Drone Launch Systems. was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Opening — The Beginning of the Quest
In the opening of our quest, we do not seek a single weapon, nor a perfect shield forged in certainty. We seek understanding.

From the first moment mankind looked upward in war, the sky became both pathway and threat. Across history, defenders have searched for an answer, a decisive solution that could command the air and protect those below. Some believed it would be a weapon. Others believed it would be technology. Many believed it would be mastery itself.

Yet the truth revealed itself slowly: the Grail of air defense is not a single blade drawn from stone, but a system forged through awareness, coordination, and adaptation.

This quest begins in the darkness of the First World War, when the drone of distant engines first carried fear across the night sky, and defenders—uncertain, unprepared, yet determined—began to shape the first shield against the unknown above.

What follows is not the story of a final answer, but the story of a pursuit. A journey through history, innovation, failure, and adaptation, in search of the principles that allow mankind to resist the threat from the sky.
The Grail has never been found.
But the path toward it has always existed.

And so, the quest continues.

Book II — The Forging of Doctrine

How Doctrine Is Defined, and How It Changes.

Opening — From Experience to Doctrine
If Book I was the birth of awareness, Book II is the birth of understanding.
Doctrine does not appear fully formed. It is not written first and tested later. It is forged through conflict, failure, adaptation, and survival. Each generation inherits lessons from the last, reshapes them under new conditions, and passes forward a refined system of thought.

Doctrine is not a rulebook.
Doctrine is memory organized for action.
In air defense, doctrine defines how detection, decision, and interception are coordinated into a unified system. It answers not just what to use, but how and why.

What Defines Doctrine

Doctrine is defined by five pillars:

1. The Nature of the Threat

Doctrine begins with understanding the enemy:

• Speed.
• Altitude.
• Scale.
• Predictability.
• Adaptability.

As the threat changes, doctrine must change with it.

2. Available Technology

Possibility, Not Victory

Technology shapes what is possible, but it does not decide who prevails. Every era of air defense has introduced new tools that expanded reach, speed, and awareness. Yet history repeatedly shows that technology alone never secured the sky. Victory comes from how technology is understood, integrated, and employed within a coherent doctrine.

The evolution of air defense technology reflects a continuous expansion of perception and reaction:

• Acoustic Detection — The first attempt to sense threats beyond sight, providing early warning through sound and direction.
• Radar — Transformed detection from approximate awareness to measurable tracking, enabling coordinated interception and centralized control.
• Guided Missiles — Extended defensive reach and precision, allowing interception of faster and higher-altitude threats.
• Digital Sensor Fusion — Combined multiple detection systems into a unified picture, reducing uncertainty and accelerating decision cycles.

Each innovation changed how air defense could operate, but none eliminated the fundamental challenge. New technology introduces both capability and vulnerability. It expands reach while increasing complexity. It improves detection while demanding greater integration.

Doctrine evolves to translate technological possibility into coordinated action. Without doctrinal integration, advanced systems remain isolated tools. With integration, they become part of a living defensive system.

4. Human Adaptation

Doctrine is written by experience:

• Success reinforces methods.
• Failure exposes weakness.
• Adaptation refines response.

Doctrine is not static because war is not static.

5. Operational Reality

Doctrine survives only if it works under real conditions:

• Uncertainty.
• Friction.
• Deception.
• Saturation.
• Resource limits.

When reality changes, doctrine must evolve or fail.

How Doctrine Changes

Doctrine evolves through a cycle:

Innovation → Employment → Failure → Adaptation → Integration → New Doctrine

History shows repeated transformation:

• WWI: From improvised defense → layered defense
• WWII: From isolated weapons → integrated radar and intercept system
• Missile Age: From guns → guided interception
• Modern Era: From prediction → persistent awareness and layered reaction

Doctrine does not change because theory improves.
It changes because reality forces it.

The Central Lesson

Doctrine is not the Grail.
Doctrine is the map that guides the search for it.

It defines how we:

• Detect.
• Decide.
• React.
• Adapt.
• Endure.

And as long as the threat evolves, doctrine must evolve with it.

Doctrine vs Weaponry

The Instrument and the Mind

Throughout history, armies have searched for decisive weapons — tools believed capable of changing the course of war on their own. Yet time and again, technology has proven insufficient without understanding. Weaponry provides capability. Doctrine provides purpose.

A weapon without doctrine is power without direction.
Doctrine without weapons is intent without force.

Victory emerges only when both operate as one system.

The False Faith in Technology

Each era has believed in its “decisive weapon”:

• The heavy bomber.
• The anti-aircraft gun.
• The guided missile.
• The advanced interceptor.
• The modern autonomous system.

Yet none alone secured the sky. Every weapon introduced new strengths — and new vulnerabilities. When used without doctrinal integration, even advanced systems became inefficient, isolated, or overwhelmed.

History shows that wars are not won by the most powerful tool, but by how effectively tools are employed together.

Doctrine as the Force Multiplier

Doctrine transforms weapons from isolated tools into coordinated effect.

It defines:

• When to act.
• Where to position.
• How systems cooperate.
• How failure is absorbed.
• How adaptation occurs.

In air defense, doctrine determines whether sensors, interceptors, and defensive layers operate as fragments — or as a living system.

A weaker system guided by strong doctrine can outperform stronger weapons used without coordination.

The Balance Between Tool and Thought

Weaponry shapes possibility. Doctrine shapes outcome.

Weapons change faster than doctrine. Doctrine must interpret change, absorb lessons, and reorganize systems around reality. When doctrine lags behind technology, effectiveness declines. When doctrine evolves with experience, capability multiplies.

This dynamic tension between tool and understanding drives the evolution of air defense across history.

Doctrinal Insight

The Grail of air defense is not a weapon.
It is the alignment of capability and understanding.

Technology provides the sword.
Doctrine provides the hand that guides it.

Without doctrine, weapons remain fragments.
With doctrine, they become a system.

Doctrine Is Not Dogma

The Difference Between Guidance and Rigidity

Doctrine is often misunderstood as a fixed set of rules that must be followed without deviation. This confusion turns doctrine into dogma, and when that happens, effectiveness declines. War is fluid, adaptive, and unpredictable. A rigid system cannot survive in a changing environment.

Doctrine provides guidance, not constraint.

It represents accumulated experience, tested principles, and shared understanding. It gives structure to decision-making, but it does not replace judgment. When properly understood, doctrine enables adaptation rather than preventing it.

Dogma, by contrast, demands adherence regardless of reality. It assumes that past solutions will always apply to present conditions. In dynamic environments such as air defense, this leads to stagnation, delayed reaction, and eventual failure.

The Purpose of Doctrine

Doctrine exists to:

• Provide a common language across forces.
• Establish coordinated methods of action.
• Reduce confusion under uncertainty.
• Accelerate decision-making.
• Enable adaptation under changing conditions.

Doctrine answers how to think, not what to think.

When Doctrine Becomes Dogma

Doctrine becomes dogma when:

• It is followed without questioning reality.
• It resists adaptation despite changing threats.
• It prioritizes procedure over effectiveness.
• It discourages initiative and learning.
• It ignores failure rather than learning from it.

In these moments, doctrine stops guiding and begins limiting.

The Correct Balance

Effective forces treat doctrine as a living framework:

• Learn from it.
• Apply it.
• Test it.
• Adapt it.
• Improve it.

Doctrine must evolve as threats evolve. The purpose is not rigid obedience, but coordinated adaptability.

Doctrinal Insight

Dogma freezes understanding.
Doctrine organizes it.

Dogma resists change.
Doctrine learns from it.

The Grail of air defense will never be found by rigid thinking, but by a doctrine that remains alive, responsive, and adaptive.

Closing — The Forge Continues

The Grail is not found in a single moment of discovery, but in the continuous refinement of understanding. In the chapters ahead, we will examine how doctrine transforms under pressure, how integration replaces isolation, and how layered defense becomes the foundation of modern air defense.

THE QUEST FOR THE GRAIL OF AIR DEFENSE was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Here, on clinic floors, another war is raging – a different bloody front with its own acts of bravery, its own heroes and tragedies, all overshadowed by roaring artillery duels. This is where it is decided whether a person will live – and how. There are no loud explosions or machine-gun bursts here, just the indifferent, intermittent beep of a cardiac monitor – like isolated sniper shots into emptiness.

In May ’22, we were told to return to the half-surrounded Lysychansk and set up a medical aid point. When we arrived, two critically wounded men were brought to us. In that moment, more than ever, I felt that I was needed. And everything that happened afterward was not in vain.

A military doctor appeared. He was a tall, thin man with bad posture and wearing glasses. When he started his work, I could see the innocence leaving his eyes. He was a gladiator – ready to slice and stab human flesh. He would do whatever it takes to make the human stand up and win.

Only the doctor could sense the true enemy, as though in a different dimension. Standing in front of the injured man, he was ready for a deadly fight for those precious “21 grams”.

Both soldiers needed help at the same time.

“Who first?” asked the orderly.

The gravity of the moment couldn’t be overstated. The military surgeon looked at the soldiers and paused for a few seconds:

“The younger one.”

He uttered from underneath his mask; unemotional, decisive, and confident.

“Quickly!”

He ordered loudly and with urgency, and the sturdy young man was carried on a stretcher into the makeshift operating room.

For some reason, I looked at the wounded man who had “given up” salvation for his younger comrade – as if I wanted to see his reaction and say: “Friend, forgive us. You won’t be abandoned. You’re not alone. Hold on. He’s just… he’s seen so little of life.” Instead, the man lay unconscious, smeared in scarlet mud. He must have been five to eight years older than me, with dry, sinewy hands. The long, dirty fingernails on his right hand told me he hadn’t left the trenches for weeks. On the left, instead of fingers, there was a bloody mess filled with mud.

In my mind, I saw his mother – an elderly village woman with a headscarf, worn out from hard labour and Ukraine’s harsh history, whose only joy and purpose in life were her children.

We began to cut the wounded man’s clothes off, examining his body, trying to find hidden entry wounds that barely bled or were masked by smeared blood and dirt, but were so merciless in their killing. I began to recall ‘Tactical Combat Casualty Care’ – which we hadn’t even been taught back then – and the ‘MARCH Algorithm’ seemed like gibberish now.

After some time, the doctor emerged, and they wheeled out Nazariy – that was the name on his military ID. The surgeon shouted after him:

“Monitor his pulse – he is stable. Next one!”

I saw sweat on the doctor’s temple as he removed his bloody gloves and apron, washed up, and put on a fresh gown. We could sense the tension and chaos – it was clear that things would become more complicated. I heard the defibrillator sound – then again…

At some point, an overwhelming fatigue hit me. I sat against the wall, remembering that I hadn’t slept for over twenty‑four hours. I cradled my head in my hands and closed my eyes. I don’t know how much time had passed before my comrade nudged me:

“Let’s go. You’ll help.”

Half-aware, I complied and followed him.

For the first time in this war, I witnessed a peculiar psychological phenomenon: when you fall asleep whilst stressed, and the only calming force is the person by your side – you follow every command hypnotically, whether you know their name or not; the important thing is their ‘digital‑camouflage’.

We entered the operating room, and saw a body covered by a blood‑soaked combat shirt. Then I heard someone shout:

“Where to take the ‘two‑hundred’?”

For some reason, all I could think about was where and when I’d be able to sleep. When we zipped up the body bag, my comrade said he’d seen an empty bunk in the basement and promised to cover for me.

Another “norm” of war: sleeping in buildings full of people you’ve never met and waking up to complete strangers. It’s hard to describe how it feels to lie down in a half‑basement without electricity, on a filthy mattress shared by dozens – possibly the wounded. Your only light a headlamp from volunteers; you fall asleep to deep snores, despairing stories about assaults, and distant artillery rumbles. Your pillow is your fleece jacket, and you’re glad just to loosen your boots a bit – because removing them completely is a forbidden luxury in a combat zone.

How I longed then to hold my beloved pillow from home or a childhood toy. But instead, my pillow was my AK rifle – cold, its bolt pressing into me as I slept. And its absence sent me into a cold sweat. Your military ID and weapon are your only possessions. You belong to no one – not even yourself. But protect that weapon!

In the morning, I drove the wounded – those who could endure the ride – to a hospital away from the front. Among them was Nazariy. He turned out to be a cheerful young guy. He tried to joke, and I laughed – not at the jokes, but at the euphoria of the triumph over death. I felt part of that triumph for life, and smiled as he spoke.

We reached Bakhmut quickly – at the time still a relatively peaceful city in the blossoming spring. On the return trip, I found a military ID in my vehicle with a photo of a smiling Nazariy – and next to it a photo of a young woman.

The next day was calm: more wounded, another evacuation – but I welcomed the chance to return to ‘civilization’. I’ve never been a coffee person, but I always had one when I got out of the front-line towns and into the rear areas. That day I realized why my ritual cup of coffee tasted so good, not because it was brewed differently, but because it contained the ingredients of Peace and Calm.

All that was left was to return Nazariy’s documents. I found the senior officer at the hospital and asked him to give them to the guy. The doctor looked at the officer, who called the orderly:

“Sasha, take them to the morgue – it’s for that young guy, Nazar…”

For a few seconds, I couldn’t process the situation and the information I had been given. Then, with relief, I called the doctor back:

“No, his name is Nazariy. I brought him in yesterday, young guy…”

The doctor looked at the documents again:

“Nazar or Nazariy, that’s correct. He died overnight…”

A few seconds later, I realized that I was in the way – wounded coming and going. I was holding the cup of coffee but didn’t finish it. I left it on the curb. I had to return to Lysychansk.

That summer, we fully withdrew from Lysychansk – and it was occupied. Later, Bakhmut fell too. But I believe that one day we will return – and drink the coffee that tasted of Peace.

Nazarnazar from Vinnytsia is a member of the armed forces of Ukraine and has been a student member of the Balakun community since January 2024. Read more about the author here.

НЕДОПИТА КАВА

Тут, на підлогах, відбувається інша війна – інший кривавий фронт зі своїми героїчними вчинками, зі своїми героями і трагедіями, які залишаються у тіні палаючих артилерійських дуелей. Саме тут вирішується, чи буде людина жити – і як саме. Тут немає гучних розривів і кулеметних черг, але байдужий, періодичний сигнал кардіомонітора – ніби поодинокі постріли снайпера в порожнечу.

У травні 22-го нам сказали, що потрібно повернутись у наполовину оточений Лисичанськ і розгорнути медичний стабпункт. Коли ми приїхали на місце, одночасно з нами привезли одразу двох важких хлопців. У той момент, як ніколи, я відчував себе необхідним і. все, що не сталось би потім – усе було не марно.

З’явився військовий лікар – високий, худорлявий, трохи сутулий очкарик. Від його безвинного вигляду нічого не залишилось, коли він приступив до роботи. Я побачив гладіатора, який зараз буде різати, колоти людську плоть – але для того, щоб вона піднялася, щоб перемогла. А от справжнього ворога бачив лише лікар. Вони вдвох стояли над тілом пораненого – в іншому вимірі, готові зіткнутися у смертельній сутичці заради “21 граму”.

Двом потрібна була допомога одночасно.

– Кого першого? – спитав санітар.

Важливість того моменту неможливо було переоцінити. Військовий хірург подивився на бійців, завмер на кілька секунд:

– Молодшого! – беземоційно, рішуче і впевнено пролунало з-під лікарської маски.

– Швидко! – вже більш нервово і голосніше наказав хірург, і молодого, кремезного хлопця на ношах занесли в кімнату, яка стала операційною.

Я, чомусь, подивився на пораненого, який «уступив» свій порятунок молодому побратиму – ніби хотів побачити його реакцію і сказати: «Друже, вибач нас. Тебе не кинуть. Ти не один. Тримайся. Просто… просто він ще так мало бачив життя». Натомість чоловік лежав непритомний, вимазаний червоним брудом. Він був старший за мене на років 5 – 8, з сухими та жилистими руками. Брудні довгі нігті на правій руці говорили, що боєць не вилазив з окопів тижнями. На лівій, замість пальців, було криваве місиво, в яке набилось болото.

У моїй голові виник образ його матері – сільської старенької жінки у хустинці, стомленої від важкої праці та складної української історії, сенсом життя і єдиною радістю якої є її діти.

Ми почали зрізати одяг з пораненого, який чекав своєї черги, оглядаючи тіло й намагаючись знайти підступні отвори, що майже не залишають кровотечі або маскуються під розмазану кров чи бруд, але так безжально вбивають. Я почав згадувати такмед, якого нас тоді навіть не встигли навчити, а алгоритм MARCH був абракадаброю.

Через якийсь час хірург вийшов, і за ним вивезли Назарія – так звали молодого пораненого, принаймні, військовий квиток був на це ім’я.

Хірург крикнув навздогін:

– Спостерігайте за пульсом, він стабільний. Наступного давайте!

Я побачив піт на скронях лікаря, який швидко знімав криваві рукавиці та фартух, замивався й одягав новий халат. Ми бачили нервовість і метушню – було зрозуміло, що тут усе буде складніше. Почувся звук дефібрилятора. Потім ще раз…

У якийсь момент я відчув дику втому. Я присів біля стіни і згадав, що не спав уже більше доби. Підпер голову руками і заплющив очі. Не знаю, через скільки, але відчув, що мене штовхає побратим:

– Пішли, допоможеш.

Я, мало розуміючи, що потрібно від мене, підкорився і пішов за ним.

Взагалі, я вперше на війні познайомився з такою цікавою психологічною штукою: коли ти засинаєш у стресі, і єдиним заспокійливим для тебе є люди, які поруч, ти майже гіпнотично виконуєш усі команди людини, яка тебе екстрено розбудила – і неважливо, знаєш ти його ім’я чи ні. Головне – що на ньому піксель…

Ми зайшли в операційну, і я побачив тіло, накрите кривавою бойовою сорочкою. Я почув, як хтось голосно спитав:

– Куди «двісті» занести?

Чомусь єдине, про що я думав у той момент – де і коли я зможу поспати. Коли ми упакували тіло в пакет, побратим сказав, що бачив у підвалі вільну койку й пообіцяв підмінити мене.

Ще одна «норма» війни – ночувати в приміщеннях із людьми, половину з яких ти бачиш уперше, а прокидаєшся зовсім з іншими. Важко пояснити, що ти відчуваєш, коли лягаєш у напівпідвальне приміщення без електрики, на брудний матрац, на якому лежали десятки людей – можливо, поранених. Де єдиним світлом є налобний ліхтарик від волонтерів, а засинаєш під гучний храп хлопців, емоційні розповіді про штурм та далекі артилерійські розриви. Твоєю подушкою є твоя фліска, і радує можливість хоча б послабити берці, бо зняти їх повністю – заборонена розкіш у секторі бойових дій.

Як тоді хотілося притиснути до себе свою домашню улюблену подушку чи іграшку з дитинства. Але зараз замість них – АКС. Холодний, затвор якого впивається в тіло, поки ти спиш. Але його відсутність – ще гірша: кидає в холодний піт. Військовий квиток і автомат – це єдина твоя власність. Навіть собі ти не належиш. Але автомат бережи!

Вранці я повіз поранених, які могли витримати переїзд, до шпиталю – подалі від фронту. Серед них був Назарій. Він виявився позитивним, молодим хлопцем. Намагався жартувати, і я сміявся – не з його жартів, а від ейфорії перемоги над смертю. Я був дотичним до цього тріумфу життя. Просто посміхався, дивлячись на нього, поки він щось розповідав.

Ми швидко доїхали до Бахмута – тоді він ще був відносно мирним містом, у якому розквітала весна. На зворотній дорозі я знайшов військовий – з фото, на якому мені посміхався Назарій. А поруч було фото молодої дівчини.

Наступний день був спокійний: знову поранені, знову евакуація, але я був радий виїхати в «цивілізацію». Хоч я і не любив каву, але завжди її пив, коли виривався з прифронтових міст десь у тил. Тоді я зрозумів, що пив найсмачніший напій – не тому, що він якось по-іншому зроблений, а тому, що він мав інгредієнт Миру та Спокою.

Залишилось передати Назарію його документ. Я побачив старшого шпиталю й попросив передати хлопцю. Лікар подивився у військовий, покликав санітара:

– Саша, віднеси в морг. Це того молодого, Назара…

Декілька секунд я не міг зібрати інформацію й обставини разом. Потім з внутрішнім полегшенням окликнув лікаря:

– Ні, його звуть Назарій. Учора привіз, молодий такий…

Лікар ще раз подивився у військовий:

– Ну Назар чи Назарій – все вірно. Він помер уночі…

Через кілька секунд я зрозумів, що заважаю висадці та посадці поранених. Навколо – звична метушня. Я тримав чашку кави, але цього разу не допив. Залишив на бордюрі. Потрібно було повертатись у Лисичанськ.

Улітку ми повністю вийшли з Лисичанська, і його окупували. Згодом – і Бахмут. Я вірю, що колись ми повернемося – і вип’ємо кави зі смаком Миру.

Half-drunk coffee was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The day has come when I’ve met him in person.

Finally!

Giorgio Provinciali came to Kyiv to report the consequences of the russians’ latest massive attack on the capital: destruction, injuries, dead, and total blackout, with no electricity, water, and stable internet connection for 24 hours.

He’s a war reporter, you know.

Not a journalist who comes for a few days or a week to the bleeding country that struggles for its existence, but a pro who has been staying in Ukraine for years during the full-scale invasion. He’s at the frontline with our soldiers in Sumy, Donetsk, Kharkiv, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson regions. Giorgio uncovers the reality for English speakers and documents every war crime of the rus invaders, writing from trenches and destroyed Ukrainian cities.

Of English speakers, by the way:

This meeting with Giorgio was the first time since 2015 that I spoke English out loud.

Do you remember me describing English as my extra power for story writing?

My Extra Power for Story Writing

See the catch? “Writing” is a core word here: I’ve mastered my writing and reading skills but lost my speaking ones.

The conversation with Giorgio was a fresh reminder to practice speaking. I felt how the gap I considered tiny was rapidly growing into a huge abyss when we came to the Sens bookshop (add it to your places-to-see when you’re in Kyiv), and I tried to describe the content of the books he checked:

All the words flew out of my head, but came back once I was at home, writing the draft of this article!

❗ It’s all about active and passive vocabulary. And practice. The latter one is what Balakun provides, connecting us, Ukrainians, with volunteer English-speaking mentors for language practice.

(You are welcome to sign up and become a mentor or a student there.)

But even if your speaking skills are close to zero, you still have a voice. With no opportunity to speak aloud, talk to the world through those who are silent:

⚡ Books.

Giorgio and I do that in articles and short stories. Ukrainian writers do that in their nonfiction works, memoirs, and novels right here and now, to record and share their firsthand experience of what this war is really about.

Of books to better understand wartime Ukraine:

I’ve gathered 10 here, all by Ukrainians, written over the last decade during the war, and explaining the reality of the situation.

Some authors wrote their books in trenches. Others came through the captivity and then told about their imprisonment by the russians and pro-russian separatists. Most are in the Armed Forces of Ukraine now. All are about good writing and sincere storytelling.

Topics include but are not limited to:

• the life in war since 2014;
• how the people of Donetsk and Luhansk regions live in and after the occupation;
• what it’s like to defend your freedom and the dearest ones, yet losing them every day…

…And how it feels when the world wants to know the truth but still refuses to believe it when they see it in detail.

1. Absolute Zero by Artem Chekh

Artem Chekh is a prize-winning Ukrainian writer who joined the army. Absolute Zero reads like his field diary turned spare memoir. Artem records the small, brutal domesticities of frontline life and the way those details add up into a quiet, human testimony about what war actually does to ordinary days.

2. I’ll Mix Your Blood with Coal: Understanding the Ukrainian East by Oleksandr Mykhed

Oleksandr Mykhed, a journalist and cultural researcher (now also a military), traveled the towns of Ukraine’s east and gathered oral testimonies, archival fragments, and personal reflections of the locals. The book gives voice to miners, shopkeepers, and writers, showing history, economy, and memory combined into the region’s present.

3. The Orphanage by Serhiy Zhadan

Serhiy Zhadan, one of Ukraine’s most prominent contemporary poets and novelists and a civic voice during the crisis, tells a tense, three-day story of a teacher crossing a city split by war to rescue his nephew. The novel is a journey through checkpoints and abandoned streets, where the landscape of ruin becomes the book’s moral center.

4. 77 Days of February: Living and Dying in Ukraine

It’s a reporter-born volume: a set of frontline dispatches and shorter testimonies compiled by Ukrainian journalists (with an intro by Serhiy Zhadan) that document the opening weeks of the full-scale invasion. The pieces read like lived minutes, bringing the shock and resourceful courage of ordinary people into sharp relief.

5. How Ukraine Has Been Losing Donbas by Denys Kazansky and Maryna Vorotyntseva

Denys Kazansky and Maryna Vorotyntseva are journalists from Donetsk. Their book is an investigation into politics, industry decline, and local power brokers pushing the region toward breakdown. It’s a careful, forensic narrative that traces economic rot and social fracture rather than a simple battlefield chronicle.

6. The Torture Camp on Paradise Street by Stanislav Aseyev

Stanislav Aseyev, a journalist and former prisoner of the Izolyatsia detention site, delivers an unflinching memoir of capture, isolation, and torture under the occupation authorities in Donetsk. Written in clipped, reportorial strokes, the book becomes a human ledger of abuse and endurance.

7. Daughter by Tamara Horiha-Zernia

Tamara Horikha-Zernya (also known as Tamara Duda) is a writer and volunteer who channels wartime choices and moral bruise into a personal novel about family and responsibility. Daughter frames the war’s ethical pressures through intimate domestic scenes — a woman’s choices, a town’s fracture — so that political collapse feels heartbreakingly local.

8. Apricots of Donbas by Lyuba Yakimchuk

Lyuba Yakimchuk is a poet from a coal town in Donbas. Apricots of Donbas gathers lyric poems that turn displacement and industrial ruin into startling, tactile images. Her language mixes coal and fruit, ash and tenderness to hold the region’s grief and stubborn beauty in a single breath.

For more poems from the Ukrainian military, check these:

• We Were Here by Artur Dron’
• Poetry From the Loop-Hole by Maksym “Dali” Kryvtsov
• dasein: defence of presence by Yaryna Chornohuz

9. The Dreamtime by Mstyslav Chernov

Mstyslav Chernov, an award-winning war correspondent, Oscar-winning filmmaker, and photojournalist, wrote this layered novel as a documentary-inflected psychological thriller that threads four lives across the collapse of normalcy. Drawing on real wartime witnessing, The Dreamtime collapses borderlines between reporting and fiction to show how war rewrites public and private memory.

10. Hemingway Knows Nothing by Artur Dron’

Artur Dron’ is a poet, writer, journalist, and military. His short-prose collection (self-described as testimony) gathers frontline sketches, dreams, and urgent reckonings from a young writer who went to war. The pieces reject romanticized literary distance and insist on the raw, immediate language of survival, brotherhood, and the small humane calculations of life under fire.

8 Ukrainian Writers to Help You Understand This Nation

P.S.

⚡ Giorgio told me he was going to write a book about his life as a war reporter here in Ukraine. It will be in English.

One more voice the world needs to see the reality and understand why the “there are also good russians” concept has no basis to be true.

👉 Written for Balakun, a nonprofit connecting Ukrainians with foreign supporters for English practice. Take a look here to find more stories from students in Ukraine, and feel free to join!

P.S. And please don’t hesitate to clap and comment! Your support matters! 😊

✨ I also write short fiction stories from time to time; please check:

• Trident Shadows
• The Courage to Be, Not Seem

A selection of essays and short stories about the war, told and written by civilian Ukrainian women, including my “Elephant in the Ukrainian Room:”

“I Don’t Know How to Write About It”

I Still Have a Voice! was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

…for those forced to leave their homes because of war

From the author, Kateryna Ryzhii

This story is written for Ukrainian refugees — children and their parents — who were forced to leave their homes because of the war in Ukraine and settle in other villages, cities, and countries.

Friendly snail families lived in a sunny green grove. They had cozy little homes that they lovingly cared for. It seemed that such a peaceful and calm life would last forever. But suddenly, sad times came. The bats, who lived in a distant old forest, wanted to take over the beautiful meadow. They quickly executed their cruel plans and set fire to the grove around the sunny spot. The snails tried to escape the disaster, crawling as fast as they could to another forest. But a huge fallen tree blocked their path. There was no time to go around it. The fire was catching up with the families — the flames were rushing to touch them! There was a small gap between the tree and the ground, through which the snails could crawl, but only without their beloved homes. It was the hardest decision of their lives. Tears fell from the snails’ eyes as they left their dear homes behind forever and crawled through the gap to save themselves. In a moment, the flames destroyed both the tree and all the little homes.

Thus, the snails found themselves without their homes in an unfamiliar place. The forest inhabitants saw these unfortunate families and opened their homes to them. The snails were sincerely grateful for the warmth and support of their new friends. They made friends with the kind hosts but rarely smiled. In the evenings, the snail families would gather by the blue lake and reminisce about the past. An old turtle lived by the lake, and she overheard the snails’ conversations and couldn’t remain indifferent.

“When I was very young, my family also fled from villains. Like you, we left our homes in our native land and crawled to this forest,” the old turtle shared.

“But you have a home!” the snails exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes! Our homes grew over time. So yours will too!” the old turtle encouraged them.

“When? When will this happen?!” the snails pleaded.

In response, the turtle sang a song:

For all who are near, let us be grateful —

And a sincere heart will heal us.

Let there be no more fear,

For after the clouds, the blue sky will appear!

Let dreams be born,

Do what you love and know!

Every attempt, step, move, and action

Is crucial at every moment!

And your smile is a vitamin

For the growth of a new home!

After the inspiring evening conversation, the snails began to look for interesting activities in the forest. The turtle kept singing her song to the snails, who gathered in the evenings after their daily tasks. “And every smile is a vitamin for the growth of our home!” the snails sang along with the turtle.

After the sun came the moon, after autumn came winter, and after spring came summer. One day, a bird flew over the forest and saw a blue lake, by the shore of which stood a big house, and next to it — many little houses. The turtle and the snail families were having tea together.

This piece was written by Kateryna Ryzhii from prompts in our “Write Around Balakun” writing and speaking club. The power and beauty of this metaphor using the connection to nature found deeply in Ukrainian culture comes through and speak to all of us. Kateryna is an accomplished writer and has published books in Ukraine. We will publish her original Ukrainian piece soon.

Join the conversation! Balakun.org

Snails and Their Beloved Home was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

We have a lot of news and updates to share with you this month. Thank you for being part of the Balakun community and for continuing to make this project grow!

📚 New: Ukrainian Literature Book Club

In collaboration with the Reddit community r/ukraine, we’re excited to announce the launch of the Ukrainian Literature Book Club! 🎉

The first session will take place this Saturday evening (Kyiv time). Everyone at Balakun is warmly invited to join.

The initiative comes from Mykola S, inspired by the legendary Ukrainian anarchist book clubs of the past

(with a modern twist, of course!).

Whether you’re a bookworm or just curious, come along, it’s about stories, ideas, and connection.

Annual Survey – We Need Your Voice!

Please take 5 – 10 minutes to complete your annual survey. You should receive this by email if you have not already.

This feedback is essential: it helps us improve mentoring, report back to partners, and open new opportunities for our community.

Your experiences and ideas matter. Thank you for sharing them!

💙 A Fundraiser Update

A huge thank-you to everyone who contributed to Serhii’s fundraiser. All funds have now been safely transferred to his widow in Kropyvnytskyi by one of our local volunteers.

Your generosity means so much, and we are grateful for this show of care and solidarity

🇺🇦 Spotlight on Our Volunteers in Ukraine🇺🇦

Some of our Ukrainian volunteers have been with Balakun for over a year now, working tirelessly through challenging circumstances. They are essential to our activities: verifying students, connecting us with local organizations, and keeping Balakun’s mission alive.

The Advisory Committee has agreed: we want to do more to support them. That’s why we are inviting you to consider becoming our supporter. Even a small contribution goes a long way in strengthening our team on the ground.

HELP BALAKUN

As we grow, we hope that enough of our members make a small regular contribution so that our operations team can be more sustainable. If we can raise enough from our community, grants, and corporate donors, we will outline our budget proposition, with different options depending on how much we can raise.

💬 Stay Connected

As always, thank you for being part of Balakun. Every lesson, every conversation, every idea shared keeps our community strong. We can’t wait to see you at the book club, hear your feedback in the survey, and share more news soon.

With gratitude,

The Balakun Team 🌿

Balakun Updates! was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Hello! This one will be brief, we have been very busy.

Balakun Advisory Committee — First Meeting

On August 2, we held the very first meeting of our new Advisory Committee. Its purpose is simple: oversight and transparency, making sure Balakun’s activities always reflect our mission and values. I’m especially delighted that the committee is made up of students, mentors, and volunteers who have been part of Balakun for almost two years. Their experience, dedication, and perspective make this a true community effort. The committee will meet quarterly to review strategy, support new ideas, and strengthen Balakun mission.

Serhii’s Fundraiser — Thank You

Thank you to everyone who has contributed to support Serhii’s family. Together, the community has raised US $1900. His wife expressed her gratitude that Serhii has not been forgotten. We will close the collection in a couple of days, so there is still a little time if you wish to make a contribution. You are also welcome to leave a message on the Donorbox platform — we will include these messages in a special print we are preparing, alongside translations of one of Serhii’s poems in several languages.

New Speaking Clubs

We’ve started fresh speaking clubs for our students and mentors to get together. One exciting addition is a Monday lunchtime session (Kyiv time) — perfect for mentors in Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and other regions where this falls in the evening. A great way for more people to join in no matter where they are in the world! Have a look at the portal for all the updates — if you are part of our Workspace.

The Community is Growing!

New mentors, students, and volunteers continue to pour in! Please welcome newbies and help them out if they have questions. Thanks to everyone who has been around for ages too! We’re exploring more ways to connect people, support language learning, and keep the community strong. Stay tuned for more updates soon. If you love what we do, one of the most impactful ways to help is simply by sharing. A short message or post to your circle can go a long way in spreading the word. And don’t forget to tag us — we love seeing your support!

Until next time! Take care

Balakun Updates was originally published in Balakun on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.