Battle for Vyshneve near Selydove: 29-year-old Mykhailo Nikitin killed over 40 occupiers
On the evening of October 29, a subgroup of the Burevii Brigade of the NGU, led by 29-year-old Mykhailo Nikitin, was deployed on a mission to the village of Vyshneve near Selydove to maintain their positions. The enemy had already seized control of a significant part of the village.
The subgroup leader, known by the call sign Nikitos, engaged the enemy in a battle that lasted over 5 hours, personally eliminating more than 40 occupiers. During an extremely perilous withdrawal, he sustained a mine-blast injury to his face. Believing him to be dead, his comrades-in-arms withdrew without him. Despite severe blood loss, Mykhailo miraculously regained consciousness and managed to get out on his own. For his displayed heroism and remarkable achievements, Nikitos has been nominated for the highest state honor, the title of Hero of Ukraine.
Military: That's where the railway goes, the junction, which plays a crucial role in why we fought so hard for Selydove.
The Katsaps were advancing through that railway, later, I talked to the guys, and they said they were entering all night, two or three people at a time and where I was supposed to go to hold the greenery, they were coming through that greenery, if I hadn’t gone there, no one would have even known about Mishka, that Mishka was even there.
Journalist: You entered there on October 29.
Military: yes
Interviewer: Was it a new area for you?
Military: Absolutely. We were gathered—14 people—we loaded up and moved to the village of Hryhorivka, where we received our task. It was to be a temporary point for our deployment.
We had to complete the assault after Omega because a battalion of the Ukrainian Armed Forces had been storming the village of Vyshneve for three days.
When we were already on our way to the mission, after the briefing meeting, we were informed that we were going to consolidate the position after the assault. That is, our task was to hold up until morning, as the assault was to continue then. We were supposed to re-consolidate the area behind them, and in the evening, we were supposed to be pulled back. So, we were riding on IFVs, and the IFVs would be moving and firing, and so on.
Consolidating, that's the toughest and most brutal thing. Even during an assault, you enter, assault, yes, it's risky—it's all risky work—but you do the assault and then you withdraw. Consolidating is different—you come, you get in place, and you just sit there and endure. These are completely different things. And it’s always like this: when you take something from the enemy, they’ll always try to come and take it back.
When we rolled into the village, a 120 mm mortar started firing at us. I don't know what happened—either the IFV ran out of ammo, or they just didn't want to take us because of the 120 mm mortar fire. They detrucked us at the edge of the village, turned around, and got away.
All of my guys were first-timers, the whole group of 14, well, 13 soldiers. I was the 14th. No one had ever experienced anything like this before, and just imagine—we were detrucked, and suddenly the 120 mm shells started firing at us. It was so intense, I don't even know how we survived just the thought of it, because the explosions were so brutal.
I began moving through the village of Vyshneve, along the road.
There was absolutely nothing military there—just a kitchen, a hut, a basement, and ordinary cellars.
My combat experience told me that the enemy's assault troops would come regardless, we were on enemy territory, so an assault was inevitable—there was no need to ask a fortune teller to predict that.
I convinced half of the group, and they took positions in the kitchen and the house, I went with them and supported them. I knew what I was doing, and I also did some prep work for myself, checking the sectors where I could see where I’d fire if something happened, what I’d do. I immediately played out a small scenario in my head.
I prepared grenades, turned in the mind—put one here, another one there—using whatever we had. The evening was relatively calm—the artillery fire had stopped, evening was mostly calm, except for one moment: we were told that all houses on the on the right hand side, and there was one house on the left, and in the evening, when there was still light, we got word that the b#stards had approached there.
We threw six F1s at them, and I threw another one, I don't know if we killed anyone there or not, but the point is that it played a role for us that we came out this road, that they were far away from this road and didn't close it, if they had stationed at least some machine gunner, no one would have come out. And we held this, let's say, defence until the morning, at night we were dropped medicines from a drone, the medical worker explained to me what to inject first.
Journalist: Were there any injured?
Military: There were, when we landed, and when we all gathered in the kitchen—five of us, including myself—I had plenty of shell shocks too, I don't need much, it just hit me and that's it. I had five WIA (wounded in action) soldiers with different levels of shell shock, meaning it really rattled everyone's heads, because, as I said, the artillery was hitting us hard, I don't know how we didn't get killed, but thank God, it just rattled everyone's heads.
I tore open syringes, pulled the guys who were feeling bad and gave them all injections in the butt.
In the morning, they started looking for us, and it was still dark—around four in the morning, they broke a window in the neighboring house, so I started shooting with the guys, my superiors told me it was just a dog, and that was the reference point—where they had seen the dog. The b#stards had been looking for us at night. Well, they were searching in small groups, probably a couple of RSG (reconnaissance and sabotage group) members, but they didn’t engage with us during the night.
In the morning, they sent us additional ammo—three zinc boxes of 5.45 and one and a half boxes of F1 grenades. I went outside, and since the artillery had been firing at us, it had partially destroyed the house—the arch had fallen down and so on. So, the guys and I quickly worked on clearing things up in the yard at dawn to make sure nothing was in our way. I mean, we removed the arch and such, and I cleared out the grenades as well, the guys had no experience, so they were a bit scared...
They performed missions during peaceful times—well, tentatively speaking, peaceful —in Ochakiv, Zatoka, and other locations in Odesa region. Roughly speaking, there’s no war there, artillery doesn’t fire like it does elsewhere.
From 2014 to 2017, every year I was in Mariupol, on the Novoazovsk road heading towards Shyrokyne. When the full-scale invasion began, as a part of Burevii brigade, we were in Severodonetsk, Lysychansk, Bakhmut, Bilohorivka, Hryhorivka, Kreminna Forest, and more recently, just before Vyshneve, I spent nine months in Stelmakhivka carrying out missions. The battles there are very intense too.
The guys, even though they were all really there for the first time, carried themselves well once you gave them the right push and direction, I mean, I couldn’t have done it without them, they all fired their weapons; they were all great, they constantly handing me with ammo, covered me, and helped in situations where I was throwing grenades or engaging the enemy.
We all understood each other perfectly. At that moment, I wasn’t thinking about how Mykhailo Nikitin would survive. I was thinking about how the group would survive, how everyone would make it.
It ...started at 6 a.m.
I remember lighting a cigarette, in my room, there was an armchair right as you walked in. Opposite the armchair was a cabinet with a mirror. So, I sat down, lit a cigarette, and was looking at myself when I heard the first ruscist Vanka, at the gate, who was tempting fate, shouting, "house owner, house owner!!" Then I heard Archie, may he rest in peace, shouting and starting to fire at him. I jumped up, threw two F1 grenades out there, and unloaded four magazine cases under the fence. And that was it. That’s how the fight started. The first group probably didn’t expect such a warm welcome, they were shooting at drones. I had a good line of sight—a square hole in the fence where I could see them clearly—so I was firing, I had another group stationed one or two houses away, but I couldn’t figure out exactly how far they were—one or two houses? Meanwhile, the bastards were penetrating there. They were penetrating through them to me. So, I created the illusion that there were more of us, I unloaded a full magazine on them from the far room and tossed grenades at the door. I mean, if you looked out of the window, it was about 5-7 meters to the fence, and from the door to the gate, about 15-20 meters. I moved back and forth inside the house—from the far room to the door. I threw a couple of grenades out the window, then fired in bursts at the door, I didn’t switch to single shots. Where the distance and situation allowed, I engaged the targets directly.
I made it seem like there were a lot of us, and for about two hours, it worked. But after a while, the enemy figured out there weren’t that many of us.
How many enemies did you see?
There were a lot of them. They assaulted. We completely killed the first group. The second group found us, gained a foothold on our position, and we nearly killed them out too. But that doesn't mean we killed every one of them in a straight-up firefight, сombat. I mean, I was also adjusting over the radio for FPV drones and artillery. And thank God, they covered us really, really well. I’m telling you, I’ve never been covered like that in my whole service, 150 rounds hit the area, to say the least. Yeah, I mean our guys were firing at them. I knew there were at least five houses around me where I could hear voices, I adjusted at them with the walkie-talkie, and the artillery hit—Baba Yaga dropped some 120s or whatever it was, It hit brutally! There were a lot of them. The point is, the ones I personally saw and counted were exactly 40.
Are these the people you killed?
The ones I personally took down with my own hands. But there were plenty of situations where I was firing en masse, actively, and through obstacles. So I couldn’t count everyone. I’ve got info that I killed a lot more than 40. And, as I said, I wasn’t the only one shooting. All the guys were firing too, and they did great. They helped and covered me the whole time.
How close did the enemy get to you?
The closest was probably 7 meters away, a drone operator reported it to me: he was running down the road, and I dove out of the window like a fish. Well, not exactly like a fish—it was leapfrog, It was something. I just leapt out and went straight there, and he was already running. I unloaded a full magazine of 54 rounds on him, and he went down with the last shot.
Journalist: How does it feel to see the enemy so close?
Honestly, under adrenaline, you don’t feel anything. First of all, you just want to stay alive, and you realize that this is the enemy. And the enemy, well, they shoot back —and shoot back hard. They’ve got plenty of weapons, ammo, and all that, they’re fully stocked. The firefight was... let’s just say, for me personally, I’m used to this sort of thing. But for some of the guys, it’s different. After two or three hours of fighting, some of them were like, "Nikitos, I can’t do this, I feel terrible." And I told them, "I feel bad too, but if you want to live, there’s no other option. It’s just us and that’s it."
Journalist: How long did this battle last?
Five hours later, a drone came to us, which was supposed to drop a load near our ammo. I went outside, but the drone did not power off. The propellers were still spinning. I thought it might be an enemy drone, but I wasn’t sure,I turned it toward me with the camera and said, "Power it off." I thought it was ours because there were six packs of ammo tied to it. But it still wouldn’t power off, so I just left it on the street and went back inside the house, then, an RPG hit our yard from the neighboring house. I gave the command, "Get to the basement!".We crawled out, and I went to check on the drone, but then an FPV drone came down right at me. It exploded about a meter away from my head. The blast wave threw me back, and I guess the flying corrugated asbestos board around me saved me. It must have taken most of the shrapnel, this corrugated asbestos board, because it just threw me back. When I got inside the house, I saw the guys, and that FPV had shredded them—faces, arms, legs—it cut them up badly with shrapnel. The enemy hit us again directly in the house with another RPG. Meanwhile, my kiddo was sitting in the cellar, the one who had been stunned earlier in the evening, he was stuttering. I let him alone him the whole time. Then I remembered him about ten minutes before this whole thing was about to end. I said to Kosten, "Listen, kiddo`s still in the basement. If we get the command to retreat soon or something, we might lose him. We need to get him out." So, I stood on the window sill and we got the kiddo out. I told him, "Come out of the cellar." He was terrified. I said, "Come here, don’t be afraid." I asked him, "Can you load ammo?" because he was stuttering badly. It exploded near him, and the poor guy had some kind of nervous breakdown, or maybe even a severe concussion. He was really stuttering hard. So I took the kiddo and sat him next to Andrii Kopaihora, and they started loading ammo together. By that time, about 40 minutes in, my rifle was jamming. I’d fire a burst, it jammed, and I’d have to knock out the stuck round of ammo on something before firing again. The guys were saying, "F#ck, Nikitos, just grab Kopaihora's rifle! Why are you wasting your time? He’s not even shooting, he’s just loading ammo." So I took Andrii’s rifle and worked with it, but then it started jamming too. I handed it back and told him, "Andrii, you’re gonna end up without any weapon at this rate. Mine’s jamming, and now yours is starting to as well." Then I grabbed the AR and fired three full magazines out of it. In the middle of all this events that happened, I was flying through the air. I had got a Kalash in one hand, the AR in the other, and corrugated asbestos board was flying with me. I hit the asphalt with a thud, hu-hu! As soon as I managed to cover myself, the corrugated asbestos board landed on top of me with another thud, hu-hu! I crawled into the house and could hear our roof not just burning but absolutely burning away. The house next to us had been on fire, and I recognized the sound because I’d seen roofs on fire before. I heard ours going up just like that. By that point, there was already an order to retreat. I held everyone back for a bit because I didn’t see the point in retreating in broad daylight when we are surrounded by the enemy on three sides, and they really surrounded us on three sides, and this is one road.
Eventually, like it or not, we had to withdraw. There were the last two salvos in my rifle. I withdrew, fired salvo shots left and right. Then, it jammed completely, I kicked it, hit it against a post and a tree, but it was done. That's it, it's jammed very firmly. But at least I don't feel sorry that it was left for the Katsaps.
Interviewer: So you were actually unarmed?
Yes, I withdrew, my weapon wasn’t working at all. There were no grenades.
We passed the first field, reached the road, and just as I got to the roadside, just bam! I regained senses, and three of us had fallen there—me, Leka, and Did. Leka was KIA immediately because he fell like that... face down. While I was undressing, taking off my gear and so on, I was squirming too—bleeding, everything. And... he wasn’t moving at all. He was still alive at that point. Afterward, they decided to kill us. Maybe they saw me struggling, or maybe they spotted all of us, and decided to hit us again with another round.
Journalist: What exactly was that?
120 mm mortar.
Journalist: Was it the first time and the second time?
Affirmative, yes. And it so happened that Did was lying just behind me, lying sideways, so he took the full hit. As for me, I got shrapnel in the back of my neck, Just recently, they took it out—such big and l-shaped piece. And I was lying there, watching the guys running across the field.
They thought I was the KIA. They saw that I had been hit and they all sniffed. And when the second KIA fell over there, I mean, the group left, they disappeared from sight and I was left there, roughly speaking, alone. And when I heard Vanya, I thought: no, no, no, Vanya, not this time! Ha-ha! I'm leaving beautifully, in English, without saying goodbye. And I went to the field in the funnel and I heard the drone flying, unfastened my knee pad, threw it on the parapet. But I was out, so no one hurt me.
So I lay down under the trees, rested, gathered some strength, and walked, what I call a zombie walk, as best as could, by force of will—because I was completely drained. I had lost a lot of blood. I fell into a crater, passed out, zonked out. When I woke up, it was silent. The pain was excruciating, of course. The thing is, the blood was still coming out, and I was fighting to stay awake—because I knew that if I fell asleep, that would be the end of it.
I was thinking, maybe something’s really wrong with me? But then I thought, no, the birds are singing, so everything must be fine. I was lucky—it was a moment of silence. No drones, nothing. I climbed out of the pit, and as I mentioned earlier, the KIA was lying there as a landmark, not far from me. I moved further and caught up to the KIA. I thought, if the group made it through, then I will too. Because we were told those fields were mined. And I thought, in this condition, stepping on a mine would just be a nightmare.
Journalist: Did you realize what was wrong with you?
Yes.
This photo with the torn-up face was one I took myself.
Journalist: Is that a selfie?
Yes.
Journalist: Did you do it at that moment?
When I got to the village of Hryhorivka, the first thing I wanted to do was check the nature of the wound. I could feel it was bad, but I couldn’t see it. At first, I thought I lost my eye. The skin was hanging there, and I thought I had a hanging eyeball. Thank God, it wasn’t, though it couldn’t see anything. So, I could make out what was happening to my left and below. Still, I told myself I was better off than those guys who were still lying out in the field.
The thing is, I didn’t expect to survive. I thought my song was already sung.
I was wearing overalls, trousers, and thermal underwear. My phone was in my pocket—just that. I took everything off, stripped down, and unweight as possible because I understood I wouldn’t be able to apply a tourniquet on my arm or unfasten the Velcro. Blood was flowing, my body was as weak as it could be. I don’t know, but maybe it was sheer luck or the fact that I’d been walking long distances since childhood that gave me really strong legs. Somehow, I managed to get back on my feet and stay upright. Otherwise, I would’ve been done for, no doubt. Those spins were brutal, of course.
By then, I had already reached the road leading to the village. Heading toward Hryhorivka, I made it to the first houses and found some military bags under a fence, taped up with duct tape. Then, some old man came out. Maybe he mistook me for someone else—I don’t know. Anyway, this old man came out and told me to f**k off. Yeah, ha!
Journalist: So, he saw that you were missing half your face, and he told you to get lost?
Yes. But I was stubborn: where, where, where should I go? I had already made it there, and missed half of my face. I started shouting: "National Guard of Ukraine, Senior Sergeant Mykhailo Anatoliiovych Nikitin, Military Unit 312," and so on. The point was, they couldn’t figure out for a while who should go and pick up the WIA at the gate. And at some point, I even started thinking I had stumbled upon the b#stards and began to leave them. Ha! They caught up with me through two fences. I was lying under the fence. They gave me first aid, and by the evening, I was still here, in the village of Hryhorivka.
Journalist: How did they react at all?
They were completely stunned. Ha-ha! They came running and just said: "Nikitos, you're a god!"
Journalist: When you found out that Vyshneve and Selydove had been occupied on the same day you were wounded, what was your reaction?
We did everything we could. But, again, the enemy fights with meet, they have plenty of personnel. Fourteen people is a force, but not nearly big enough to hold even a place like Vyshneve.
Journalist: And how many of you survived?
There were nine of us.
Journalist: 14. 9 з 14.
Yes, we lost five people.
I’d say we completed our mission 100%. It’s honestly a miracle that we even withdrew out of there. That we managed to enter, take down so many of them, engage with the enemy, and inflict significant damage. I was even shouting over there, "Screw you, you're not getting Vyshneve," and so on.
Interviewer: But can you fully grasp this result yourself?
I’ve never done this much before, for sure. It’s the first time I’ve ever done so much. I mean, I do have a lot of combat experience, and there were always some skirmishes—five-on-five, maybe up to 10. But this time, it was on such a massive scale. I’m proud of myself for giving those katsaps a beating and for standing up for the guys.
First of all, I’m a patriot. Secondly, I’m a warrior who understands the nature of my work—how dangerous it is, and the risks involved. Certain risks that, in our line of work, can just happen.
Of course, I’m not in good health now, but we’re going to work on restoring it as much as possible. I’ll have this plate put in—I’ll have metal plate Terminator T-4000.
What is the plate for?
Here, everything is shattered—half of my face, and my jaw is already broken.
The point is that there are dead bones there, along with fragments. So, they just stitched me up, patched my face together, and that was it. Now they’re going to cut it all open, insert a plate, remove the dead tissue and whatever shrapnel they can, put the plate in, and stitched it back.
It’ll heal, and after that, it’ll be possible to do plastic surgery—for my nose and whatever else needs fixing. Well, in short, it’s going to take some time.
It was a 120mm shell—it hit once, and three of us went down. The point is, the blast radius was serious. And for those who know what a 120mm shell is, you’ll understand—it’s a miracle that I’m even sitting here now, telling you all these stories, all these struggles.
I always say this: when everything feels terrible, remember the guys sitting in the pit right now.
They have it worse. If you’re feeling bad here, something annoys you—being stuck in traffic, someone cutting you off, or whatever—just think about how the guys are holding the line out there.
Even the weather conditions now. When it’s minus 15 or 10 degrees, it’s brutal. And it’s not like you can just freeze, light a fire, and warm yourself up. No, it’s war—there’s no time for warming up.
He froze his fingers, and that’s it. That’s how we live. And it’s not that I’m the only hero. We’re all heroes—everyone fighting there and so on. Some just do it more actively, others more passively. Not everyone was born to carry such a burden.
It’s just that now is a time that has brought everyone together.
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Sign the petition to award Mykhailo Nikitin the title of "Hero of Ukraine"
https://petition.president.gov.ua/petition/238292
Raising funds for the Doctors for Heroes Foundation, which takes care of Mykhailo Nikitin and helps soldiers with head and face injuries:
