The War - The Crutch Battalion

We were sent here to die. We’re just meat for the next assault, drone fodder.  

Putin doesn’t want disabled soldiers returning to Russia, he doesn’t want to pay our pensions and he certainly doesn’t want us to be seen. So the sick and injured are being declared fit and sent back to the front lines in special units, officially known as convalescence units but frequently referred to as crutch battalions or crippled regiment or the freaks unit. 

I have one eye. I lost my left eye to shrapnel in a drone attack outside Pokrovsk.  Every single soldier in the unit has been wounded, there are soldiers without arms, without legs, even with heart conditions.  

We not here as some superhero paraplegic regiment, a military equivalent of the Paralympics, we’re here for the big push on Holiapole, assault meat they call us, just here to attract the drones and bullets.  Our deaths will just be a bonus. 

“I got a leaflet,” Pavel said. Pavel’s right leg was amputated. He’s not yet been given an artificial leg, he hobbles around on crutches.  ‘The finest army in the world’ the media call us, yet our soldiers can walk more than a few metres. 

I read the headline text on the leaflet. “’The I want to live hotline’, what is this?” 

“It's from the Ukrainians, you can use the leaflet to surrende. Ukrainian drones are dropping them.” 

“How does it work?” 

“You message them on Telegram, or call the hotline, and arrange your surrender.” 

“You surrender online? How?” 

“You tell them where they are and they arrange a place for you to go and hand yourself in?” 

“And you’ve done this?” 

“I’m here to say goodbye Gerasim, I’ve arranged my surrender already.” 

Pavel left. I was alone.  I had a phone, not my main phone but a back up, one untraceable to me.  I dialed, it was a freephone number. 

“Hello, I want to live hotline, Olena speaking, how may I help you.” 

“Erm hello,” I said, “This is Gerasim. I’d like to surrender.” 

“Which unit are you in, where are you located.” 

I gave her the details 

“Ah yes, ‘the big push’ on Holiapole, we’re getting a lot of calls from your unit.” 

“I bet you are, I said, it’s going to be a bloodbath.” 

“Will you be contactable on this phone?” 

“I can keep it on, yes.” 

“We have extraction teams operating in the area. There are a number of you in the same situation, we will contact you tomorrow with coordinates – will you be able to leave your unit and make it to the coordinates?” 

“I should be, our ‘toilet arrangements’ usually involve going into the woods, it should be easy to make my exit that way.” 

“Excellent. Thank you once again for calling the ‘I want to live’ helpline. Our operatives will contact you within 24 hours. Have a nice last day of your war.”