Ishkhan Grigoryan now commands the 1st Assault Battalion of the Arei Regiment, which recently expanded to regimental level. He worked his way up from an assault company and is now fighting on the Zaporizhzhia front, taking part in combat and search-and-strike operations. In a conversation with The Ukrainian Week, he says he became a commander the hard way — on the front line, in assaults, under fire.
“This is my first combat deployment as a battalion commander. When ‘Arei’ became a regiment, I was promoted from assault company commander. Now we’re carrying out search-and-strike operations — we find the enemy and destroy them,” says Grigoryan, commander of the 1st Assault Battalion of the Arei Regiment. “I didn’t come out of nowhere as a commander — I came out of a trench. I went into assaults as a platoon leader, then as a company commander. There were many times I came back from an assault and couldn’t believe I was still alive. In the Donetsk region, we took Neskuchne and Staromaiorske. Those first assaults were especially tough. But the words ‘mum’ and ‘God’ carried me through.”
Ishkhan was born in Armenia, but his family moved to Ukraine in 1990, settling in Kropyvnytskyi (then Kirovohrad). He went on to graduate from Bila Tserkva Agrarian University, before leaving for Europe, where he spent five years working. When Russia’s full-scale invasion began, he chose to come back. He sent his family abroad and took up arms to “defend his loved ones and Ukraine.”
“‘Macedonian’ (Oleksandr Hryshchuk), our regimental commander, called me and asked: ‘Are you ready to fight?’ I was ready — teach me, show me,” Ishkhan recalls. “My cousins were friends with ‘Macedonian’. I was younger, so I stayed a bit on the sidelines… Before the full-scale war, I had never held a weapon — I didn’t know what it was like. I learned in combat. My brothers-in-arms taught me. We only moved forward. We started in the Mykolaiv region, then the Kherson region — we drove the Russians out of there. Then came Zaporizhzhia, the Donetsk region, Russia’s Kursk region… Now we’re back in the Zaporizhzhia region.”
Back then, it was just a battalion. Now the Arei Regiment has come a long, hard way. Many of his brothers-in-arms have given their lives — for their loved ones, for their country.
“I miss them. They come to me in dreams — and I’m glad they do. I wake up drenched in sweat, but I’m glad I saw them. If there is sleep at all — often there isn’t. That’s how intense the war is now. Especially now, when we’re on combat missions, carrying out assaults with newly formed companies, after becoming a regiment.”
Ishkhan doesn’t like staying still — he needs to keep moving. That is why, after graduating, he didn’t work in his field but went abroad. He could have helped from there, sending trucks with aid. But he has never once regretted his decision to return and fight:
“If even one person is better off because I’m here, then it’s worth it. That’s what I believed even when I was on the front line and knew I could be killed — not just now that I’m a commander. It matters, too, when you and your brothers-in-arms stand as one — for the same idea. Even if I were told right now to go and do a job, I wouldn’t hesitate — I’d go, I’d destroy the enemy. I can’t imagine being a civilian anymore. I probably couldn’t do it now. Some people still think that when the enemy comes to their city, they’ll pick up a rifle and start fighting. But by then, it will already be too late.”
“On the positions, you see who’s who — people show their true colours. When I took part in assault missions, I wanted to test myself: did I really have the guts, or was I just trying to look like I did? Turns out I’m completely crazy. The lads were always pulling me back.”
There was one time: we stormed a position and dug in. A neighbouring unit moved in… straight into what was basically a minefield. They hadn’t even made it 20 metres when we heard shouts: ‘We’ve got a 300, help!’ We had to go and pull them out. I knew the area was mined. I wasn’t going to send anyone else under fire — I went myself, with one of the lads. I dragged a guy — three times my size — for a kilometre until we reached cover. His heel had been blown off.
“You don’t go in thinking you’ll give your life for a comrade — he needs help, so you move, without a second thought. You don’t stop to think the enemy might be 20 metres away — that only hits you later. The one you pull out becomes closer than a blood brother. And when the lads call and say, ‘Commander, do you remember?..’ — there’s just no way to put that into words.”
Ishkhan has his own reckoning with fear. But what matters more to him is keeping his men alive:
“I don’t understand when someone says they’re not afraid. When you go in and come out, and then go back in again — you know exactly where you’re going. You prepare yourself and your men as much as possible. These are people’s lives — and your own. It was frightening to go in, but ‘no’ wasn’t a word we had. This kind of war now — sometimes you don’t even have time to get there. Nothing lifts your spirits like your commander being right there with you. Not somewhere in the rear, shouting over the radio, but beside you — leading you into battle. That’s worth everything.”
