Foreign fighters looking to join the fight in Ukraine find hurdles, seek their own terms

LVIV, Ukraine — Pierre Kastner-Kysilenko had his hands full when Russia invaded Ukraine nearly three weeks ago.

The 38-year-old Frenchman of Ukrainian descent was hoping to patch up his relationship with his daughter, he and his fiancee were planning their wedding, and he was finally starting his own business after years of working as a consultant. On the day Russia invaded his ancestral homeland, all that took a back seat.

Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko’s grandfather had been active in the Ukrainian diaspora in France, he said, and was recognized in the late 1980s for his role in organizing military convoys in the wake of the Chernobyl disaster. He said his relationship with his grandfather instilled in him a sense of duty to Ukraine.

“Obviously, there’s some heritage,” he said. “Something to live up to, in a way, in terms of doing something for Ukraine.

“The main thing is I thought I couldn’t just stay without doing anything,” he said. “I had to do something. I didn’t know exactly what, but one option was the military because I have a military background.”

With deployments to Lebanon and Mali as an intelligence officer for a light cavalry regiment in the French army, Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko knew the realities of war and military service. Within days of crossing the border into Ukraine, however, Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko faced the stark reality of fighting a war under a foreign flag. 

Foreign fighters are flooding the battlefields of Ukraine as the war shows little sign of abating.

Ukrainian Foreign Affairs Minister Dmytro Kuleba said earlier this month that more than 20,000 people from 52 countries had volunteered to fight in the International Legion of Territorial Defense of Ukraine, a newly formed avenue for non-Ukrainians with military experience to serve in foreign units under Ukrainian officers.

Recruits enter a dangerous gray area once they take up arms in defense of Ukraine. Many join without the support of their home countries. The Russian Defense Ministry has announced that foreign fighters detained on the battlefield will not be considered combatants, removing certain protections afforded to prisoners of war and potentially exposing them to criminal prosecution in Russia. 

Several people who crossed the border to fight alongside the Ukrainian army told The Washington Times that foreign recruits sign contracts obligating them to serve until the end of the war.

Faced with the reality of being bound to a country embroiled in a war with no clear end in sight, some have returned home. Others have stayed but vowed to fight on their own terms.

Crossing over

Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko said he contacted the Ukrainian Embassy in Berlin, where he now lives, just days after the invasion. Before introducing a sleek recruiting website, the legion gave little information about how to join. After several unanswered emails and calls, Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko simply crossed into Ukraine and volunteered.

Once in Lviv, the western city that has emerged as an organizational and supply hub for the Ukrainian resistance, he showed up unannounced to recruiting centers and waited for callbacks. On several occasions, he said, he was accused of being a spy. He noted his lack of accent when he spoke Russian, and he traveled to Lviv with a bag full of military equipment.

After days of back and forth, he began a series of interviews with military officials in Lviv. He said he was eventually taken to a military training base in Yavoriv less than 15 miles from the Polish border. Before the war, military instructors from the U.S. and other NATO countries trained Ukrainian military personnel there.

A Russian airstrike early Sunday killed a reported 35 people at the facility. The Kremlin reportedly targeted the site precisely because it was where Ukrainian and foreign forces were training together.

When he arrived at Yavoriv, Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko said, he was led to a tent where foreigners were given a brief screening before signing a contract obligating them to stay until the completion of the war. Those who sign on are given gear and begin training with units in Yavoriv before shipping out to the front.

Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko said the contract came as a surprise. He had accepted the legal risk in France for fighting in a foreign war and considered the possibility that he could die in battle. Still, the contract binding him to Ukraine revealed the stark reality of indefinite war.

“I love the romanticism and the idea of fighting the Russians for the fate of Ukrainians,” Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko said. “It’s a really nice story, but it’s a nice story in a movie. The consequences of that in real life are just too much.”

He realized his decision could throw away the years of work he had poured into his business or make him miss his wedding.

“It’s not the fear of being hurt or killed in Ukraine,” Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko said. “It’s the fear of being stuck in Ukraine without being able to transition back home.”

After speaking with a Ukrainian officer at the facility, he parted ways amicably and said he would continue to help Ukraine in more practical ways.

The day after he turned down the contract, Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko made preparations to travel from Lviv back to Berlin. He said the decision weighed heavily.

“Fighting in a real war against the real enemy with regular firefight contact is something that’s pretty much my dream,” he said, and he would likely never have another opportunity to do so.

Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko also thought about his grandfather.

“I don’t know if he’s up there or just a concept in my brain, but I don’t know what he would think,” he said. “I don’t know if he would say, ‘No, you should have seen that you should have said this is your country, and you should be prepared to fight and die, and you should be prepared to drop those things at home.’”

Back in Berlin, Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko said part of him regretted turning down the opportunity to fight despite the clear example of the danger after Sunday’s sobering raid.

“I don’t feel relieved,” he said when asked about his decision to leave. “It’s not like I’ve made the right decision. I was just plain lucky.”

He said he also worried about the people he met who were likely on the base.

On their own

Mr. Kastner-Kysilenko ended his quest in Ukraine after refusing to sign the contract, but others have sought out war on their own terms.

Hank, a 27-year-old from Britain’s North Yorkshire who requested that his real name be concealed, said he contacted the Ukrainian Embassy in London about joining the legion. He crossed into Ukraine late last week.

He said he spent six years in the British army and three years in the French Foreign Legion but did not have his fill of war.

“I did my training for nine years, and I want to use it,” he said. “I never had the privilege to go anywhere with the military. I just sat for nine years straight doing nothing. Now I’ve been presented with a war, and it seems like they are facilitating fighters to come out here pretty easily. So it’s game on for the boys who want to go fight.” 

He said the idea of joining the international brigade quickly soured as he boarded a bus in Poland.

“A lot of the guys we met on the bus who were going into the international brigade seemed like absolute choppers,” he said. “They had no idea what they were doing. Big fat blokes who were like 50-odd years old. Blokes who have been in the army, but 20 years ago.”

He said he eventually heard from others who joined that they had signed contracts requiring them to stay until the end of the war. To him, that was a bridge too far.

Hank waited outside the Lviv train station Friday with three other British nationals he met on the way who refused to sign the contract.

“It’s just mad,” said Max, 29, from Kent, who requested that his real name not be used. “It’s like shed everyone else’s blood but our own. I’ll come here and fight, but I’m going home. I’m not dying out here.”

All four said they had served in the military. Despite meeting just a few short days earlier, they exuded a tight bond that would take years to form in a more normal setting.

Max said he served in the British army and worked as a paramedic. He came to Ukraine to provide medical support.

“I want to go do my medical stuff and help everyone,” he said. “And these guys are going to have my back. We have come together. We’re solid.”

The four said they would travel to the besieged Ukrainian capital of Kyiv, where they would take up arms and join the fight.

“This is our unit,” said Rhys, 27, from Dublin. “We came together, we’re going to leave together. All of us are going home.”

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