The Daily Telegraph - Saturday
Ukraine’s men open app to dodge the draft
Those reluctant to fight in the war-torn country have found a new way of avoiding the front line
SHOULD “Sergei” ever have grandchildren, he will not have much of a story to tell them about what he did during Ukraine’s war.
Since the Russian invasion began two years ago, the 38-year-old has spent most of his time in his flat in Odesa, doing his best to avoid the draft officers who patrol the streets. While other men his age are dying in the trenches, he spends his days watching Manchester United on TV, and worrying about a draft squad knocking on the door to serve him with conscription papers.
“They came to my door a couple of months ago and I just didn’t answer it,” he said, speaking to The Telegraph under the very strict condition that he not be identified. I have a wife and 18-year-old son to look after, plus I don’t believe the military training would be any good. They’d give me an AK47 to practice on a couple of times, and then they’d pack me off to fight in somewhere like Bakhmut. I don’t want to die, and besides, the draft system is very corrupt anyway – if you’ve got money, you can just pay not to serve.”
In a land that now prides itself as a nation of warriors, men like Sergei are a rarely heard voice. He is, however, far from alone, judging the number of subscribers to the “draft-dodger” app that he spends much of his considerable spare time consulting. On it, users post live-feed details of sightings of draft squad teams on street patrols, who do on-the-spot checks of military-age men to see if they are draft-eligible. The Odesa edition of the app, which is on Telegram, the encrypted messenger channel, has 70,000 followers alone.
“Occasionally, I do a bit of minicabbing to make some money, and I’ll check the app as I drive along,” Sergei said. “If I see a post about a draft patrol near me, I’ll just do a U-turn and explain why to my customers. Most of them are understanding about it, they don’t criticise me.”
Ukraine’s government takes a less lenient view than Sergei’s clients. With Ukraine’s army ranks now thinning after two years of war, Kyiv’s parliament is currently debating a mobilisation bill that could lower the draft age from 27 to 25, potentially expanding the army by 400,000 men. Those who dodge conscription will also face restrictions on their ability to buy property or access bank services.
In a bid to make military service more appealing, recruits are given a degree of choice as to what units they serve in, while a new recruitment campaign has the slogan “It’s OK to be afraid”. But it is still a tough sell. Gone are the days when recruitment offices had long queues of volunteers, as happened at the war’s outset. With an estimated 70,000 Ukrainian soldiers killed and 120,000 wounded, no one is under any illusions about the risks. And with Russian troops now upping their game – last week they took the town of Avdiivka – the Ukrainian casualty rate could get even higher. “I’ve had two close friends who’ve been killed already, and there’s at least 10 other people I know who are trying to avoid the draft like me,” said Sergei.
While there is scant public sympathy for draft-dodgers, one of Sergei’s long array of excuses does hold true with many Ukrainians: his claim that the draft system is corrupt, and that anyone with cash can bribe their way out. Nowhere does it seem truer than in Odesa, where last summer a senior figure in the draft office was detained on suspicion of bribery and had several million dollars’ worth of property in Spain seized.
The idea that a draft boss was feather-nesting his Spanish bolthole while other Ukrainians fought and died was a PR disaster for the government, which promptly replaced the heads of all regional conscription centres. But to this day, draft patrols often get a hostile reception when they patrol the streets, as The Telegraph saw while watching one in action in Odesa. They were standing by a bus stop in the city, boarding any bus that pulled over and checking male passengers’ paperwork.
“Quite often people are aggressive to us, and will say stuff like, ‘Go f--yourself ’,” said the unit’s head, Lt Vlodymyr. “But what are we supposed to do? The Russians are invading our country, and many Ukrainians have fought for two years in the military already – they are exhausted, and the situation on the front lines is very difficult.” To prove his point, a passing motorist hurled abuse at the patrol, earning a resigned look from Lt Vlodymyr. “We’re used to it,” he shrugged. “We just say to everyone, ‘Have a nice day’.”
One bus passenger who did not have a nice day was Alexei Malyazorov, whose paperwork checks revealed he had already dodged a call-up order once. The jobless construction worker did not exactly resemble warrior material: already in his mid-40s and somewhat out-of-shape. But he complied meekly when Lt Vlodymyr’s unit invited him into their van to be taken to the draft office.
“What can I do?” said Mr Malyazarov. “Everyone’s serving now. But yes, if I end up being sent to the front, I’ll be worried for my family.”
More determined draft dodgers often flee Ukraine altogether, bribing smugglers up to $5,000 (£4,000) to spirit them into neighbouring countries. Around 25,000 have fled, while nearly 20,000 have been detained while trying, according to official statistics. Those caught face possible jail time, not to mention public opprobrium. Sergei said that he himself had considered fleeing Ukraine, but lacked the money for the extra bribes that would be required to take his family too.
Life as a fugitive in his flat has not done his mental health much good. He spent much of his time obsessively checking the draft-dodge app, and as he talked to The Telegraph during a night-time rendezvous, he cast anxious glances at male passers-by. “I’m just paranoid all the time, and now that the draft officers have called at my flat, I know they’ve obviously got me on their database,” he said.
Yet the one group of Ukrainians who might be most upset about men like Sergei are often the least exercised. At a rehab clinic in Odesa, The Telegraph met veterans Mykita Gornyak, 27, and Vitaly Myrlian, 52, who both suffered serious injuries. Mr Gornyak now had a prosthetic leg right up to his hipbone, while Mr Myrlian was still learning to walk again after suffering a shattered pelvis. Asked their opinions of draft dodgers, they simply shrugged. “Guys who don’t really want to fight can always do some operation behind the frontlines” said Mr Gornyak.
“Sure, it’s not good that these people try to avoid service,” added Mr
Myrlian. “But to be honest, these kind of people would be useless at the front line anyway.”
Such words may be of limited comfort to Sergei, should the Odesa draft squad ever catch up with him.
But whether or not he then gets a war story worth telling his grandchildren, he still has a sharp message for
Telegraph readers who think he’s a coward.
“To anybody in the West who’s not actually having to fight, I’d say: ‘Put yourself in my shoes and see how you feel’.”
‘I don’t want to die, and the draft system is corrupt – if you’ve got money, you can pay not to serve’