A day of vacation with Private Taras before returning to the trenches

Special Envoy to KievIt's August, and Ukrainian soldiers are also on vacation.

People jump into the void from a bridge in Kiev that spans the Dnieper River. For fifteen euros, you can jump off a bridge into the middle of the war: workers will strap you into the river, you'll jump, they'll pull you back up, and they'll send you photos. "We guarantee we'll change your life completely, and you'll definitely have something to tell your children and grandchildren!" reads one company's ad. I'd like to think the slogan was thought up before the Russian invasion.

"Shall we jump?" I ask Private Taras. Private Taras is usually somewhere along the Donetsk front, using drones to kill Russian soldiers in uniform. Soldier Taras is currently on vacation in Kiev. "I've already had enough adventure in my life. If you want, you jump. I'll wait for you up here." Private Taras suggests an alternative activity: renting an electric scooter to visit one of the capital's river islands. Private Taras finds it hard to disconnect from his life on the front lines:

"Now we've copied the Russians: on the battlefield we also move around on electric motorcycles and scooters because it's harder for drones to kill you."

"You shoot drones. Is it really harder?"

"Yes, but I've killed several Russians who were on scooters or motorcycles."

"What do you feel when you kill an enemy soldier?"

"At first, it was a strange feeling, it was hard for me. Not anymore. I know what they're capable of."

—What do you mean?

—He lived in Butxa. I know all the atrocities they committed when they occupied the city. The corpses of civilians rotted in the street, and we couldn't bury them because they were shooting at everyone.

Vacations during war are limited. Soldiers spend long periods at the front, without permission to travel. When they theoretically have thirty days a year, they take advantage of the opportunity to return home and visit families. Some occasionally receive their commanders' blessing to leave the country: They sign a paper so that they can pass at the border. Chances are, more than one Ukrainian soldier is vacationing in Barcelona these days, one of the most common destinations among Zelensky's troops.

—What are you doing these days, Taras?

—Honestly, nothing special: visiting my parents, friends... I should train, but I'm struggling.

—When you're on the front, what do you miss most about Kiev?

—What I miss no longer exists. I miss my life before.

Private Taras used to be a lawyer. Now, the Ukrainian state has just awarded him a medal for his service on the front. He shows it to me. It's silver, with red details. On the box where it's kept, there's an inscription: "Honor, glory, state." Private Taras also teaches me something else: videos of his exploits on the battlefield. Bomb drones heading straight for the bodies of Russian soldiers running away in fear. Boom, boom, boom. They explode. They kill. Honor, glory, status.

In a few days, Private Taras is due to return to his positions.

"Do you know what day you're leaving?"

"I guess it'll be the first week of September."

"Do you know where you'll be stationed?"

"I guess in the same place."

"Do you know what you'll have to do?"

"I guess the usual: kill Russian soldiers."

Private Taras knows what he'd like to do: "Come to Barcelona and go see Barça at the new Camp Nou. It would be a dream." Private Taras is 34 years old. Private Taras challenges me to a race on the electric motorcycle.

When will this war end?

It's August, and Russian troops are pressing harder than ever on the front lines while their leader talks about peace in Alaska.

Kiev's army admitted yesterday that Kremlin troops have entered the Ukrainian region of Dnipropetrovsk, on the eastern flank. The territorial offensive is limited, but it's a blow to the morale of the Ukrainian troops, who have been losing the initiative on the battlefield for some time. But the future of the war, analysts say, lies a few kilometers further east: in the Donbas. This is where the Russian army is focusing its greatest efforts and is the region Putin is demanding in exchange for freezing the war. With the province of Luhansk completely conquered, Hell is now heading towards Donetsk, where Moscow controls 75% of the territory.

"The situation is critical, but we're holding on. The Russians have been trying to conquer Pokrovsk for eight months, but they can't defeat us," said Private Vyshebaba by phone from the Donetsk front. Before the war, he was a renowned poet. Now he's an artillery soldier in the 68th Minotaur Brigade. He's also a poet at war: he continues to write, but only becomes inspired a few days after leaving the battlefield. "I guess I need to absorb everything I see." He has 127,000 followers on Instagram. His last post was on August 7: he said that despite losing motivation, it's necessary to keep fighting. The city of Pokrovsk that he defends was a key logistical center for the Ukrainian army. Now the city is gone: almost nothing that existed a year ago exists now. It's a common landscape in Ukraine. Wars are also learning to speak in the past tense.

—When will this war end, Vyshebaba?

—It can't end with a Russian victory. But since the fall of 2022, I've known that this war will be a very long one. It's hard for me to think of an end.

—Are you capable of reconquering the occupied territories?

—Not right now. We must focus on stabilizing the front line, which is what we are doing.

—And then?

—Waiting for Russia's social and political collapse. That is our option.

This is also an answer shared by many Ukrainians to the million-dollar question: When will the war end?

It's August, and Commander Baloo was drinking an ice-cold Estrella Damm last night. He sent a photo receipt via WhatsApp. Barcelona, he said to the glass. Commander Baloo is also fighting on the Donetsk front. Commander Baloo also believes that the war will be long.

"I came home today because it's been fourteen years since Kristina and I were married," he told me. He sent photos of the day: him having a barbecue, and him teaching his thirteen-year-old daughter how to shoot a rifle. His daughter also often asks him when this war will end. Many parents prepare their children in case this war doesn't end. "Now I'm heading back to the Donbas. Four and a half hours on the road and I'll have reached my positions." Return to hell. In his other life, he owned a marketing company. In August, he used to travel around Europe.

The Kiev Bridge ad was right: "We guarantee we'll completely change your life, and you'll definitely have something to tell your children and grandchildren!" Ukrainians shouldn't jump off any bridge.