OLEKSII VASYLIUK believes he has seen a lot in his lifetime, though not enough. Before the full-scale war, he had traveled across Europe hitchhiking and worked with children.
About himself. Before joining the army, everything had been clear; I had been determined. Then came service and war… but I began to forget what I liked. I even find it hard to answer the question of what my favorite food is because I see it merely as a resource.
I am quite anxious. For example, during the first training exercises, I tried riding motorcycles. I was worried about what might happen. Then I thought, “I’m 23 years old, there’s a war in my country, I could die at any moment, so why not ride a motorcycle?” My anxiety is an attempt to control everything. I absolutely hate when I can’t control something.
Until 2021, I studied at the Ukrainian Leadership Academy and organized half-marathons. A year before my military service, I had the best job. I worked with children at a private school called CISC. The children loved me; I taught my first class there. Now I realize that it was a somewhat fun job, and I want to engage in something more serious.
I think a lot about who I see myself as, but I can’t find the answer because there are many options. Perhaps I would like to be an officer in the Armed Forces of Ukraine. Maybe I see myself in the public sector, in education, or even in politics. I definitely see myself in Ukraine because only here do I feel that everything is mine; here is my home, and everything is great. No matter what region of Ukraine you go to, there will always be a feeling of being at home. You can either run away from your home or fight for it. I don’t like it when people ask, “Where are you from?” I’m from where I live right now.
About military service. I joined the army in 2021. The war had been on for a long time by then. I called my friend, Hlib Stryzhko, and suggested we do sports together for more motivation. He replied, “You called at the right time; I’ve also been thinking about the army. Let’s choose a unit together and serve.”
When I served in the Marine Corps, I was an aerial reconnaissance officer, flying drones. Now, I work in the intelligence headquarters of the Drone Forces. My job involves searching for targets daily and assigning tasks for their destruction. Before my second injury, I directly controlled operations on the front line. However, after that injury, I began to feel its psychological impact; I realized I couldn’t fully keep my composure under continuous shelling. I didn’t want my anxiety to affect the men I was leading.
I realized that the army is great; you just need to find your place. So, when things became difficult for me, I started looking for a role where I could be useful, according to my condition.
About the Injury. My first injury, a shrapnel wound to the chest, occurred in 2022. It was physically serious and took me out of action for three months, though I saw it as a chance to recover and recharge. We were running drone missions near Vodyane in Donetsk when an enemy tank opened fire. I went to grab the remote control, thinking how absurd it would be to get injured or killed right then. Suddenly, there was an explosion—I thought my arm was blown off. A moment later, I realized it was still attached, though hanging at a strange angle. It was autumn, and I was wearing a great Marine Corps sweater. My guys even joked, “Lyoha, maybe try to take the sweater off so we don’t have to cut it.” But they were genuinely shaken when I started coughing up blood; they worried I might not pull through.
My second injury occurred in 2023, and I still have shrapnel lodged in my neck from it. This one affected me more psychologically. It happened during our counteroffensive when our reconnaissance unit was leading the way and the fighting erupted. An explosion went off, and everything turned into a scene straight out of a movie, engulfed in orange-gray smoke. The commander ordered everyone to disembark from the APC, which soon after caught fire. We had numerous wounded that day. It was the first time I witnessed friends, with whom I had served for a long time, die right before my eyes, and I felt utterly powerless to save them.
The trauma manifested as PTSD. For instance, when I was driving through Kherson, I often felt an intense fear that a missile was going to hit our vehicle and tear it apart.
When you live in the constant presence of death, with no sense of safety, it’s tough. You can’t control much. After the second injury, I realized that a third might be my last.
In the army, not fearing death can actually be an advantage. It helps you concentrate on your tasks without distractions. When I enlisted, I wasn’t ready to confront the idea of dying. I always imagined it would happen when I was around 70—an active old man who would pass away peacefully at home. I never considered that it could come any sooner.
About Recovery. I use sports as a way to distract myself. I’ve come to understand that I can’t control everything around me or even my own reactions, which impacts my discipline and my ability to complete tasks both at home and at work. Engaging in sports is the simplest method I’ve found to help with discipline. By consistently pushing my limits, I can achieve results. I feel quite uncomfortable when I’m alone, but at the Invictus Games, I experience a strong sense of psychological support. For me, participating in sports here is less about physical strength and more about the feeling of community and support.
About Victory. Currently, it seems that those who believe most in the possibility of victory and the end of the war are often those who don’t witness its realities. Personally, I feel this conflict is likely to last a long time. My perspective is that we need to focus on preserving our nation rather than just its territory. We can rebuild the land, but the best among us are being lost. While I genuinely want to see the war end, it’s not merely about stopping the fighting; it’s about preparing for what comes next. No one will accept the current circumstances, even if even if fighting stops. And even if people do come to terms with the situation, the issue of restoring justice remains. So many lives have been lost that should never have been.
If the war were to end right now, civilians would see the loss of currently occupied territories as a defeat. For me and many in the military, the true defeat would be losing the entire country.
About Happiness. I find happiness in new experiences and fresh encounters. For example, when I went motorcycle riding for the first time, I was truly amazed. Visiting an ostrich farm filled me with joy. I’m not a fan of repetitive vacations; going to Egypt year after year doesn’t appeal to me. I really enjoy the journey and exploring new locations.
Translated by Green Forest English School