FRONTLINE FIGHT FOR UKR. FREEDOM
What US aid, & US weapons, mean in the battle for democracy
WASHINGTON — As a reporter on The Post’s national politics team in the nation’s capital, I’ve been covering the Ukraine War from the confines of the Pentagon since Russia launched its full-scale invasion more than two years ago.
But when Ukraine began losing ground due to dwindling ammunition supplies, and with some in Congress questioning the worthiness of continued military aid, I felt a journalistic duty to trade the safety of Washington for a war zone to discover why Western weapons are so critical to Kyiv’s fight.
The Senate has passed a bill that would provide about $60 billion in aid. But so far, Speaker Mike Johnson has refused to put the bill up for a vote in the House.
As the future of Ukraine aid hangs in the balance, we at The Post felt we could serve our readers by bringing you to the scene with reports of what’s really happening there — and why it matters.
On the frontlines
It took two days, two flights and a train ride across the Polish border to reach the war-torn country. I spent the next three weeks traveling throughout Ukraine seeking out the truth first-hand. From entering top secret Ukrainian repair bases to interviewing troops on the frontlines amid the unsettling sound of artillery fire, I faced the reality of war head-on.
It was hell on Earth. But even in the scariest times — such as when Russian jets roared overhead — I was put at ease by the troops’ gushing admiration for the American weapons that the Pentagon has sent over the past two years.
Sergiy, the commander of a firing unit I visited, swooned over the heavily armored Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles. We sat in one as I tried to ignore the booms of nearby artillery.
“These things save lives,” he said, assuring me that the vehicle would protect us should the Russian shells hit. “My men are confident going to the fight if they’re in these.”
Though I’ve embedded many times with US troops in training scenarios over the years, it wasn’t until then, with enemy gunfire blasting in our direction, that I realized the true value of Americanmade military equipment.
In its weapon designs, the Pentagon has long understood that it’s not enough to deliver the most lethal capabilities possible; it’s equally important to ensure equipment keeps its most valuable assets — the troops — as safe as possible.
This concept stands in stark contrast to that of Soviet-era equipment on which Russia relies.
“Ukraine is different from Russia — we value the lives of our soldiers and therefore we are seeking technological advantages over the enemy in order to save the lives of soldiers and defend our land,” Ukrainian Foreign Minister Dmytro Kuleba said last week.
Close call
After that experience, I wrote an article about Western weapons leveling the field for the Ukrainian army. But it wasn’t until later that I learned how true it really was.
Just a day after my embed with Sergiy’s unit, I received word that the same MRAP in which I’d interviewed him had been struck with an anti-tank missile.
In a video sent from a trench dugout on the frontlines, Sergiy recalled that just an hour after my embed ended, his crew responded to a “combat alarm” calling for cover fire for their fellow troops under attack.
The next morning, hours into the fight, “I was in the tower [of the
MRAP] behind the machine gun and had just started shooting,” he said. “Suddenly, there a pile of smoke, an explosion, and my eyes went black.”
Russian forces had struck the vehicle directly, but due to the quality of the American-made vehicle, Sergiy said he “looked around to see that we were not injured.”
But the MRAP’s transmission had
broken, so they could not drive away. Knowing the Russians were likely planning a second strike, his team gathered what they could — a single, precious M2 .50-caliber machine gun — and climbed out. In a photo Sergiy later sent me, the vehicle was destroyed after an Iranian kamikaze drone crashed into it.
Making do
With resources running low without additional US aid, Ukraine cannot afford to send anything to the dump. Instead, equipment like the MRAP is taken to repair facilities scattered across the country.
I visited two such facilities in separate, undisclosed locations kept secret due to the vital nature of the work done there. Knocking out such a facility would be a big win for Moscow, so I was asked to power off any electronics before I left — in case Russian hackers were tracking my movements.
As I approached under the cover of darkness, I was spooked by a sudden air raid alarm. But once inside, any fear I’d had melted away.
There, I saw how intently Ukraine cares even for destroyed western weapons — equipment that the US military might trash.
Ukrainians have learned to cannibalize equipment as they wait for new shipments of spare parts from the US that may never come.
“Artillery sweat saves infantry blood,” one of the repair facility soldiers told me. It’s a phrase that’s become popular among Ukrainian troops who have seen the difference western weapons have made.
I watched in awe as they welded together scraps of American-made equipment they’d taken from other destroyed weapons. Billions of dollars worth of US-sent equipment was given new life with a little Ukrainian ingenuity.
“Now we do not have irreversible losses,” the facility’s commander said, grinning with pride.
But it’s been months since the facility has received a shipment of spare parts, and the practice won’t last long without additional aid.
Human toll
My trip was also about witnessing what daily life is like for civilians in a modern, European country under constant Russian attacks.
Nowhere in Ukraine is safe. Even in the country’s capital Kyiv, the threat of drones and missiles is a daily reality. There, I met a woman named Tatiana, who lost her father Jan. 2 when a Russia-launched Shahed drone crashed into her childhood apartment complex.
She showed me the wreckage, where I noticed bloody handprints on the wall. Not only did her father die in the blast, but her mother lost an eye and her grandmother’s skull was cracked.
She walked me to the site of the explosion: a glass door to a balcony off the living room. The impact had destroyed a full wall, and shards of glass had embedded in the door frame of her parents’ bedroom 30 feet away.
I asked how she could be so strong, but she simply replied, “What choice do I have?”
Her stoicism briefly turned to anger when she told me about another family member she considers a casualty to Moscow. Her late father’s brother, who lives in Russia, has fallen victim to Kremlin propaganda, she said.
“My uncle didn’t make any calls” of condolence, she said. “He doesn’t believe the war is even happening.”
Still, she said she had to stay strong for her family — including her 7-year-old daughter, who didn’t yet know her beloved grandfather was dead.
The proof of war was everywhere. Yet Ukraine has stayed true to itself, displaying the national flag everywhere. In many ways, it felt like the US did in the months after 9/11 — with patriotism abound and a solemn determination to preserve democracy.
Shared values
“Ukrainian values are freedom and democracy,” one after another soldier told me.
“Our freedom is worth dying for,” one soldier said. “Life under Russian dictatorship is no life at all.”
Throughout my trip, Ukrainians treated me with reverence as an American, repeatedly offering thanks for the roughly $42 billion in military aid the US has sent in the past two years — as if it had come from my tax dollars alone.
While they still need additional military aid, the impact past aid has had is not forgotten by those whose lives depend on it. It’s something Americans can take pride in.