After spending days without water in a dilapidated basement on the front lines, a Ukrainian soldier named Vladyslav turned his back on his comrades and urinated into a bottle. He recalls that “when the urine cooled, I drank it.”
Vladyslav, 23, was one of two fighters ordered to hold positions for two weeks in the summer of 2024 in Klyshchivka, a village in the eastern Donetsk region. But in reality, these two boys spent two months in those positions, where, at times, hunger and thirst were more formidable enemies than the Russian assault teams trying to crush them.
Klishchivka offers strategic views of the surrounding landscape and has been continuously fought over since November 2022. Hundreds of people lived in this place before the war, but the fighting has completely destroyed it and now the village is under Russian control.
Vladyslav told Radio Free Europe (RFE/RL) that he and his comrade-in-arms were ordered to guard an unoccupied basement in the village.
"They told me: 'Go and take a position, because there's no one else there,'" he said.
However, inside the basement, the pair found a starving Ukrainian soldier, whose condition foreshadowed what they themselves would experience.
"He was so weak and exhausted that his bones were visible through his skin," he said.
The Ukrainian soldier stayed with the newcomers to watch everything that would follow.
In active frontline positions, like the one held by Vladyslav and his comrades, enemy reconnaissance drones constantly watch for movement, and as soon as they spot a soldier, they send data to artillery teams and first-person-view (FPV) drones.
As a result, supplies are usually delivered by drone, but in wet or stormy weather, the quadcopters cannot fly and soldiers are left without food and water.
"Initially, we tried to take care of our exhausted friend, but from the first day we were short of water," Vladyslav told REL.
He added: "We had taken a lot of water with us, but on the way to the position we gave water to the guys we met, so we only arrived with one bottle."
In the second week, the water was completely used up and the soldiers began to drink their own urine.
"We thought, here I am: we have to do something," said Vladyslav. He began scratching marks on the basement wall to count the passing days.
When their nearby field headquarters was hit by a Russian attack, communication with the outside world was completely cut off.
Although he was ordered not to leave the basement, Vladyslav says: "I wanted to drink so much that when I stood up, I was shaking."
After struggling out of the position destroyed by artillery fire, he found a well nearby.
"I used a helmet to draw water. The first time I brought some to the basement, that plain well water seemed sweet to me," he confessed.
But the desperate mission for water was spotted by Russian reconnaissance drones.
Russia began pounding Ukrainian positions with drones, mortars and artillery. Then, the Ukrainian men were attacked with tear gas. The use of banned tear gas has been confirmed on the Ukrainian battlefield, and soldiers say the gas is often dropped via canisters from drones.
"There was so much of it that it was even seeping through my gas mask. I was having trouble breathing," Vladyslav says. "The only thing that saved me was when I realized that I had to breathe calmly, that I couldn't panic. Only when I breathed slowly did the mask filter work."
Between attacks, hunger began to grip the soldiers and they watched as their bodies became "ugly" from malnutrition.
Vladyslav estimates that his weight dropped from around 75 kilograms to just 50.
When the drones finally reached their positions and dropped food and water, Vladyslav recalls: "We felt like we were in heaven. I learned how to cook there; they dropped mashed potatoes, pasta and biscuits."
A group of Russian fighters, passing through the village, were spotted by Ukrainian drones and attacked.
The Russian troops dropped most of what they were carrying and ran for cover. Vladyslav says he climbed from his position in the basement and found a bag that had been abandoned.
"Inside there was a phone, cookies, a plate and some cereal. The boys were very happy that there was food there," he says.
During another attempt, the invading Russian troops tried to attack the basement where Vladyslav and his companions had taken refuge.
"We radioed the command that we were under attack, then prepared to defend ourselves. One of our drones came and started dropping bombs on them. When one of the Russian fighters approached our positions, we shot him with our rifle and light machine gun. You can still see his blood on the concrete," he says.
After a full month, they were told they would finally be replaced, but the precarious situation on the battlefield meant the rotation was delayed even further. With food and water running low and under frequent bombardment, Vladyslav says the workload was often difficult to bear.
"There were times when I was under so much pressure that I wanted to kill myself. My friends talked about every topic we could think of. It was hard; all three of us were crying. We just wanted to go home," he confessed.
Emotional relief for the young soldier came when his wife, who lives outside Ukraine, managed to contact him once by phone.
"She called my commander, then headquarters connected us via radio and we talked. I was so happy that I felt like I was flying in space. Then, I talked to my daughter. At that moment, I could forget everything else," he says.
When the final order came for them to leave their positions after a little over two months, they walked silently through the night, punctuated occasionally by mysterious lights and fires, towards what they hoped would be their lines.
As a result of a Russian drone attack, they were separated, and Vladyslav only arrived at a relatively safe command post after dawn the next day.
His comrades were injured during the evacuation, but also survived, including the soldier they had found in the basement two months earlier.
His first priority was food.
"I called my wife just to tell her I made it, then I said, 'Give me 10 minutes, I'm going to go eat.' I tore up everything: sausage, mashed potatoes, pasta," he says. "Whatever I could get my hands on, I quickly devoured."
Military conscription in Ukraine is currently for men aged 25 and over, meaning Vladyslav could have avoided going to war.
But even after what he experienced in Klishchivka, he says: "I want to go back and help the boys. I want to be on the front line and hear on the radio: 'Well done, boys, hurrah, the war is over,' then see everyone coming out and leaving."
"I want everyone to come home - everyone," the soldier says./ REL (A2 Televizion)