They probably barely remember anything about the Orange Revolution. Back then, they were either too young or had not even been born yet. The Revolution of Dignity was mostly seen on television; some learnt about it from their parents’ stories, and only a few were fortunate enough to be present on the revolutionary Maidan and witness everything that was happening with their own eyes. When Russians attacked in February 2022, without hesitation, they joined the Armed Forces to defend Ukraine simply because they could not imagine doing it differently. When the enemy comes to your house to destroy your entire world, you know intuitively the enemy must be killed. This generation is completely different from their parents and grandparents. They are the children of free Ukraine who have never known slavery. They have grown up, and they feel responsibility for their future. They want to shape it.
The young heroes mentioned in this article currently serve in the ranks of the 112th separate brigade of the Territorial Defense Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine in Kyiv. They are all absolutely different people, and yet share one trait – we can openly call them the children of freedom. The Revolution of Dignity had a significant impact on their perception of the world and life. In their stories, there are answers and guidance for those who are afraid, who doubt, who are tired, or those who have lost their hope. And they can be trusted because they represent a new type of Ukrainian. This is the generation that is worthy heirs to the centuries of struggle for freedom and independence.
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Maryna
Photo: Roman Malko
Maryna was only six years old when people gathered in Kyiv’s central square, Maidan Nezalezhnosti, shouting “Yushchenko – tak!” (Yes to Yushchenko!) and waving flashlights in the air. Years later, when people gathered and were already burning tires and protesters were being killed on the street, she had just turned 15. Maryna remembers these events very well because she herself wanted to go to Kyiv but had no one to go with. So instead, every weekend she went to the local Maidan (at that time, every Ukrainian city had their local, smaller protests on a central square), where only a few hundred people would gather at most. The town of Romny in Sumy region, where she lived, is small, and it’s also close to the border with Russia. There weren’t many Maidan activists there. On one occasion, Maryna even ran away from home, took a minibus out of town, and started hitchhiking cars to Kyiv; however, later, the girl’s mother’s friends saw her and called her mom, who quickly arrived to pick her up.
“I was just shocked when I saw those nerve-wracking scenes of students, who were just a few years older than me, being brutally beaten by security forces”, Maryna recalls. “I couldn’t understand how such things were even possible in a modern, supposedly just state. What I saw caused so much indignation, despair, anger, and incomprehension”. But what shocked the tenth-grader the most were the shootings on Maidan.
I didn’t sleep for entire nights from 18 to 21 February,” says Maryna. “I watched live broadcasts and realised that I couldn’t do anything about it. Watching the peaceful people fighting for their lives and freedom being brutally shot and being unable to do anything about it, feeling weak and powerless – all of this was extremely overpowering. This was the exact moment when I realised I was Ukrainian. Before that, I didn’t think about it that much.
It was during the Revolution of Dignity that Maryna fully switched to speaking Ukrainian. She says it was her conscious choice. Gradually, following her example, her relatives also started communicating in Ukrainian. “At that time, I already recognised that I did absorb a lot of Russian influence; I drowned myself in a purely Russian discourse. There was no easy way around it – I needed to define my identity, starting with me as an individual and then gradually cleaning things up around me. Of course, I began with the language. One of the reasons why the Revolution of Dignity triumphed was that a lot has changed in people’s minds. Even the fact that many people like me and I accepted ourselves as Ukrainian is already a huge victory.”
The full-scale Russian invasion caught Maryna in Mariupol, where she moved to work as a journalist after completing her history degree at Kyiv’s Taras Shevchenko National University. “Two days before the full-scale war, on February 22, I woke up realising that danger was very close, that Russia would likely invade us in the coming days. It was my internal intuition and perhaps the ability to analyse the news”.
Maryna created an event on Facebook, “Mariupol is Ukraine,” and started inviting all her Facebook friends to it. “Just so that we could gather, feel united, and show the world that Mariupol is Ukraine and that we don’t want any so-called “DPRs” (Russian-controlled puppet republics) here. So the world would see – we are against Russia”.
That same evening, more than a thousand city residents gathered on the square in front of the drama theatre; there was barely a place to squeeze in; everyone was shoulder to shoulder. People came carrying pro-Ukrainian posters; they sang Ukrainian songs, and they talked. There was an open microphone, and anyone with anything to say was welcome to grab it. “At that time, we felt deeply that we were not alone, that we were together, that they wouldn’t bring us down, that we would still win, that Mariupol would never become Russian, it will remain Ukrainian”.
Maryna confesses that even in her worst nightmares, she could not imagine that Mariupol would have to experience such a horrific tragedy that it would be so inhumanely bombed. In the first days of the war, she continued to work, running around the city, covering events, and writing news. But when Russian troops were approaching, she knew she had to evacuate. “We understood that we couldn’t stay here, and we also knew through the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) that our entire team (we are a pro-Ukrainian outlet) was on Russian hit lists. We knew we needed to leave”.
On the night of February 25 to 26, Maryna and her boyfriend left for Kyiv. They hitchhiked to the capital for about one and a half days. They entered from the side of the Lisovyy (Forest) District and saw a deserted city. “I was very surprised that there were no people on the streets. It was around 7:30 in the morning. There were no people, no cars, and lots of hedgehogs, and it felt like the city had died out. I was not used to seeing Kyiv like this”. After three hours of walking, they reached the city centre (public transport was not running, and a taxi from the Lisovyy district would have cost them over 3000 UAH, approximately 80 USD). The couple joined the Territorial Defence Forces of Ukraine’s Armed Forces immediately.
Today, Maryna serves as a commander of the anti-aircraft artillery service in the 244th battalion of the 112th brigade of the Territorial Defense Forces. She had previously imagined life in the army a bit differently; she believed that she would be busy with combat tasks at all times. However, it turned out that the women were often given paperwork to do, which annoyed her quite a bit.
She believes the war that Ukraine is currently fighting is inevitable. Throughout its history, Ukraine has always struggled to protect its independence and sovereignty from Russia. There has always been a war. Now it’s been declared, and here we finally have to put an end to it. Over the last 300 years, Ukrainians have mostly been losing, but we are now at a stage when the Ukrainian state can no longer afford to lose. This time, each and every one of us has to make sure we win.
“After the Revolution of Dignity, I had expectations that we would cast off everything Russian that was imposed on us”, says Maryna. “And I hoped that once I did it myself, everyone else would do the same. It didn’t really happen the way I thought, though; there aren’t many conscious and aware people. There is a saying that 1% of the active population leads the remaining 99% of the passive ones. And it is good that we have this 1% that truly cares about the future. However, it’s still a minority, and it takes time to pull the majority to our side”.
Devastating events like a major war or a full-scale invasion expedite this process. Today, a significant number of adults and teenagers who have spoken Russian all their lives choose to switch to Ukrainian; they stop listening to Russian music and reading Russian bloggers. This proportion is notably bigger than, for example, after the Maidan in 2013-2014. In a way, one may even say that such immense shocks are positive for a society that is trying to define its identity and for the formation of the nation.
Maryna hopes that once the war is over, Ukrainians will no longer feel tempted to call Russians a ‘brotherly nation’, and this war will be engraved in people’s minds as a clear marker that cannot ever be erased, similar to how the Holodomor is now remembered. “My generation will pass on the truth about this war to our children”, she says. Additionally, she believes that a change within Ukrainian political elites is needed. “Young people will lead the country in a completely different direction. Of course, they will steer away from Russia, perhaps in a more radical way than it is happening now or has happened before”.
Bravo
Photo: Roman Malko
“Before the Revolution of Dignity, I was just a regular Ukrainian”, says Bravo. “I was just a child living in Ukraine, having a Ukrainian birth certificate. After the Revolution of Dignity, everything has changed – the was I perceived myself as a citizen and the way I perceived the state. I realised that I am part of something bigger than just a country with a flag. I am part of a nation that is fighting for its rights, that will not bow down and live in a way it dislikes, a nation that is not ready to live when someone else keeps deciding its fate for it, and these decisions are far from being favourable.
Bravo was on the revolutionary Maidan only once and only briefly. He was 13 years old at the time. He says he escaped with a school friend because the metro wasn’t working, and some random man gave them a lift to the Kyiv city centre. This happened before the security forces were shooting at protesters with live ammunition at the end of February but after the confrontation with police on Hrushevskyy Street at the end of January. The boys were worried they wouldn’t be let through, so when they passed the first barricade, they were very happy. They were nevertheless stopped at the second barricade by Maidan self-defence activists who asked them to leave the barricades. The boys tried to go around from the other side, through the barricade at Hrushevskyy Street, but they weren’t allowed in there either. Their third attempt to get to the heart of the revolution also turned out to be unsuccessful, and the kids went home”.
Still, Bravo was well-informed about all that’s been happening. His parents regularly attended evening demonstration gatherings (the ‘viche’), and their TV at home was on 24/7. They simply didn’t turn it off. “We went to bed following the news, we came home from work or school to immediately turn the TV on and watch the live broadcasts from Maidan”.
But what stuck in the boy’s memory the most from those times was the story of ‘titushky’, the government-paid thugs hired to provoke or attack protesters. Bravo went to a school in the Kyiv suburbs. One day, he came out of the classroom and saw some guys in tracksuits holding clubs running down the corridor; one of them even had a gun. It was already towards the end of the confrontation on Maidan — either on the day when police launched a mass shooting of protesters, later known as the Heavenly Hundred or a few days before that. Bravo assessed the situation and immediately jumped back into the classroom. There, he heard a message announced by the school administration that titushky had entered the school premises; the students were asked to lock themselves in the classrooms and not go anywhere.
As it turned out later, somewhere nearby, there was a bus with titushky that was ambushed by Maidan’s self-defence. The Yanukovych’s thugs fled and scattered through the area where Bravo’s school was, and some of them ran into the school. The security guard tried to catch them, but after 20-30 minutes, they disappeared on their own. Bravo was curious and saddened. “I wanted to see them”, he says, “because it’s something interesting for a little child who doesn’t understand the consequences”.
The Maidan events, and then the ATO (Anti-Terrorist Operation), greatly influenced how I view the world,” says Bravo. He says that owing to Maidan, he serves in the military today. The young man believes that the Maidan had a significant impact on his parents as well. The leitmotif of Maidan, he believes, was not only about European integration or joining NATO but also about fighting for one’s rights and freedom, for the country’s survival. It was a manifestation of the nation’s willingness to fight despite sacrifices”.
“Everyone was scared, but I found it amusing. It’s almost like being on a frontline. To some extent, I admire the war. Of course, it’s the worst thing that can ever happen to a human being, but war reveals a lot about ourselves. It shows people’s true nature, their skills, abilities… You can assess yourself fairly and honestly. For me, this was similar. I was still just a child; I hadn’t seen war, but for me, it was gripping, and it sensed like history. I was intrigued, while my peers were frightened”.
When the war started, Bravo immediately volunteered to join the territorial defence. ” I honestly don’t think I could have done it differently”, he says. “This is how I was brought up; these are my principles, and I believe it’s impossible to act otherwise. I believed that even when ATO was ongoing, I wanted to study a bit, get a degree, and then join the Armed Forces. But 24 February rang like a bell that said: today, nothing else matters except for our country”.
Even before the full-scale invasion, Bravo intended to join a specific unit, but it got dragged on. When things exploded on 24 February, and there was no more point in waiting, he up his university friend’s offer and joined the unit. “The promise of immediate dispatch to face the enemy somewhere in the Kyiv region was very appealing, but it didn’t work out that way”. They didn’t leave right away. However, Bravo has plenty of time to gain combat experience. He will remember the liberation of Klishchyivka near Bakhmut for a long time.
Before the war, Bravo was actively doing sports: football, MMA, and wrestling. He wanted to pursue a professional career in sports and even enrolled in the National University of Physical Education and Sport. However, in his second year, he changed his mind and decided to enrol in Taras Shevchenko National University to study political science. “There is a completely different environment there that greatly influenced me,” says Bravo. “There were ideas and subjects to study”.
None of Bravo’s classmates or fellow students joined the military. “They work, study, and avoid military conscription,” he says with a smile. “It’s the usual life of youth who don’t plan to defend their country”.
I believe that people who joined Ukraine’s Armed Forces on 24 February 2022 are an entirely different caste of people with a completely different mindset. When we came without combat experience, frankly speaking, no one thought about the consequences. When they spoke about death, everyone seemed simply indifferent. “On the other hand”, says the young soldier, “today, a large part of the mobilised individuals who join the Armed Forces are absolutely unmotivated people seeking ways to avoid combat deployment and find a rear position”. They lack an idea, and without an idea, it is indeed challenging to fight because it is genuinely frightening. It’s scary for everyone, but when you don’t understand why you are there, it becomes even scarier”.
“There is a saying that the infantry wins battles, logistics wins wars,” says Bravo, “but I would add one more thing: the rear. The rear is crucial, especially when we are entering not a short sprint, as it seemed at the beginning, but a prolonged marathon. The rear is extremely important. I am concerned about some things happening today. I see politics making its way back into our lives. What’s worse is that it started affecting the army. I often hear about war fatigue, particularly from those who are not directly involved in it. I don’t see a well-established industrial military complex that would provide units like mine with everything we need, at least. And, of course, I don’t like that”.
I think people need to reflect on it. Sooner or later, those who are fighting today will either end up wounded and be discharged, or they will simply have to be replaced due to their psychological state. And who will replace them then? Motivated individuals who joined on 24 February are gradually dwindling. They need to be replaced, and if they are replaced by people who lack the motivation to perform the necessary tasks, strategically speaking, this will have severe consequences”.
Bravo is convinced that the cause of the war is not only Russia and Putin and their absurd understanding of the world but also Ukrainians and the mistakes they made when Ukraine became independent. Things like electing presidents among former Soviet communist party members and allowing people like Viktor Yanukovych to grab power led to this war. Plus, the world is becoming multipolar. Having a neighbour like Russia, there was no way for us to avoid this war. Unfortunately, our neighbour is involved in great geopolitics; thus, today, we have to fight.
However, Bravo is convinced that right now, everything is in our hands. We choose our fate, and we choose the way we want to live. If we keep choosing ex-Soviet figures or the likes of Yanukovych, it doesn’t matter whether we are on the borders of 1991 or 1917; nothing will change. All we get will be war. “Therefore”, say Bravo, “I think the Ukrainian people need to become more aware, adopt a more responsible approach to their election choice, and their attitude towards the country. Many things related to the state and personal matters should be revised. Perhaps only then will something change for us. Ultimately, neither the EU nor NATO are able to help us— it is us who have to make the change”.
After the victory, when the war ends, Bravo plans to continue his military career. But there will be no celebration of victory. It’s a painful moment. “We have already lost many of our best sons and daughters”, says Bravo. Of course, all these things, reaching the borders of 1991, the de-occupation of Crimea— all of this is a victory. But would I call it a victory or celebrate it? Definitely not. Losing so many friends, I don’t dare to call it a victory”.
The second part of this interview is coming soon.
