‘We Are Not Human to Them’: Life for Convicts in Russia’s Army

Published: August 14, 2023

In a month spent on the entrance line, Aleksandr, an ex-convict serving within the Russian Army, hadn’t seen a single Ukrainian soldier and had barely fired a shot. The menace of demise got here from a distance, and seemingly from all over the place.

Sent to protect in opposition to a possible river crossing in southern Ukraine, his unexpectedly shaped unit, made up nearly solely of inmates, endured weeks of relentless bombardment, sniper assaults and ambushes. The marshy, flat terrain provided no cowl past the burned-out hulks of cottages. He mentioned he had watched canines gnaw on the uncollected corpses of his useless comrades, drunk rain water and scavenged rubbish dumps for meals.

Aleksandr claims that out of the 120 males in his unit, solely about 40 stay alive. These survivors are being closely pressured by the Russian army to stay on the battlefield on the finish of their six-month contracts, in accordance with Aleksandr and accounts supplied to The New York Times from two different Russian inmates preventing on the entrance line.

“We are being sent to a slaughter,” Aleksandr mentioned in a collection of audio messages from the Kherson area, referring to his commanders. “We are not human to them, because we are criminals.”

His account offers a uncommon window into the preventing in Ukraine from a Russian inmate’s perspective. Units made up of convicts have grow to be one of many cornerstones of Russian army technique because the extended preventing has decimated the nation’s common forces. Aleksandr’s descriptions couldn’t be independently confirmed, however they aligned with accounts from Ukrainian troopers and Russian prisoners of conflict who mentioned that Moscow used inmates basically as cannon fodder.

The troopers’s accounts had been obtained by means of voice messages during the last two weeks, some in direct interviews and a few by means of messages supplied by relations and buddies. Their final names, private particulars and army models have been withheld to guard them in opposition to retribution.

Aleksandr’s testimony conveys the brutality imposed on Russian convicts, and the human price Moscow is ready to keep up management of the occupied territory.

The Russian Defense Ministry started to enroll hundreds of inmates from the nation’s jails in particular models known as “Storm Z” in February, after taking up a jail recruitment mannequin utilized by the Wagner non-public army firm within the first yr of the conflict.

Aleksandr mentioned he had enlisted in March, shortly after receiving an extended jail time period for murder in central Russia. He left at dwelling a spouse, a daughter and a new child son, and was apprehensive that he wouldn’t survive the torture and extortions in his jail.

Like different inmate fighters, he was promised a month-to-month wage of $2,000 at at this time’s trade charge, and freedom on the finish of his six month contract, a duplicate of which he shared with The Times.

Wagner claims that 49,000 inmates fought for its pressure in Ukraine, and that 20 % of them died. Former fighters have described brutal disciplinary measures imposed by the paramilitary group. .

However, Wagner survivors have additionally broadly mentioned that they had been in a position to gather wages and return dwelling after six months as free males. To elevate the recruitment numbers, Wagner additionally labored to rehabilitate the inmates within the eyes of Russian society, presenting their army service as a patriotic redemption.

Yet by February, Wagner had misplaced entry to prisons throughout an influence battle with the army excessive command, permitting the Defense Ministry to supplant them by way of recruiting convicts.

The measurement and casualty charges within the Russian military’s personal inmate models are unknown. However, a tally of the nation’s conflict deaths collected by the BBC and Mediazona, an unbiased news outlet, exhibits that inmates turned probably the most frequent Russian casualties beginning this spring, underlining the oversize contribution they’ve made to the nation’s conflict effort.

The testimony of Aleksandr and three different former inmates exhibits how convict models have developed below the direct management of the Russian Army. The Times obtained Aleksandr’s contact info by means of a Russian rights activist, Yana Gelmel, and verified his and different inmates’ identities utilizing publicly accessible courtroom information and interviews with their family members and buddies.

They have described irregular wage funds that fell far in need of the quantities promised to them by the state and an lack of ability to gather compensation for accidents. Aleksandr additionally mentioned that his officers had explicitly prevented males in his unit from amassing useless comrades from the battlefield.

He claimed that this was finished to forestall their households from claiming compensation, as a result of the useless troopers could be registered as lacking reasonably than as killed in motion.

“There were bodies everywhere,” Aleksandr mentioned, describing the preventing on the banks of the Dnipro River in May. “No one was interested in collecting them.”

Russia’s Ministry of Defense didn’t reply to a request for remark.

Aleksandr additionally claimed that his officers used threats and intimidation to pressure surviving inmates to stay on the entrance for one more yr after the top of their contracts. Another inmate soldier at present serving on the Zaporizhzhia entrance additional east mentioned that his contract had obliged him to stay in Ukraine for a further yr after acquiring his pardon, this time as an expert soldier.

All inmates spoke of colossal casualties of their models and of their commanders’s seeming disregard for his or her lives.

“Every day, we live like on top of a powder barrel,” Aleksandr mentioned. “They tell us, ‘You are nobodies, and your name is nothing.’”

After a month of coaching close to the occupied metropolis of Luhansk, Aleksandr mentioned he was despatched together with his unit to carry a line of former vacation houses close to the Antonovskiy Bridge, an space that Ukraine has been concentrating on with hit-and-run assaults since Russia’s forces withdrew to the east financial institution of the Dnipro in November.

They spent the subsequent three and a half weeks below fixed bombardment from the invisible enemy, who shelled their uncovered positions from throughout the river and focused them with snipers and in night time ambushes. Enemy drones continuously hovered within the air.

The purpose of their mission was unclear to them; they had been advised to easily stay of their positions. They had no heavy weapons and no means to defend themselves in opposition to Ukrainian assaults.

“I’m running around with an automatic gun like an idiot. I haven’t made a single shot, I haven’t seen a single enemy,” a former inmate from Aleksandr’s unit named Dmitri, who’s now deceased, mentioned in a voice message on the time. “We are just a bait to expose their artillery positions.” The message was shared with The Times by Dmitri’s spouse.

“Why the hell do I need to be here? To sit around and shake like a rabbit because shells keep on exploding all around you?” Dmitri mentioned in one of many messages.

Aleksandr mentioned his unit had been left with out meals and water for days after asking their commanders to be relieved, forcing them to scavenge for ration biscuits and drink rain water handled with chlorine.

In late May, Aleksandr was despatched on a mission to mine a riverbank. His unit was hit by a Ukrainian howitzer shell, which detonated close by mines.

All of the opposite males in his detachment died immediately, he mentioned; Aleksandr was injured.

“It was raining, and I fell into a puddle,” he mentioned, describing the assault. “I crawled away bit by bit and then covered myself with some rubble, because I knew they would finish me off.” He mentioned he had managed to ship textual content messages to his unit earlier than dropping consciousness.

The subsequent day, he was dragged out by his comrades and evacuated to a hospital in Crimea. Though he nonetheless couldn’t stroll nicely, he was despatched again to the entrance line, earlier than being put in a hut within the rear with different convalescing fighters.

“It’s so scary to remain here,” Aleksandr mentioned. “This is not our war. There’s nothing human here.”

Oleg Matsnev and Alina Lobzina contributed reporting.

Source web site: www.nytimes.com