Call sign Floki: "Some people told me, "What, are you going to fight instead of People’s Deputies and their children?’"

Author: Olha Moskaliuk

Today, Volodymyr commands a crew of night bombers with the 429th Separate Unmanned Systems Regiment. Before the full-scale invasion, he had no ties to the military. He worked as an actor at the Kyiv Academic Puppet Theatre. He chose a thematic call sign — Floki, after one of the characters from the Irish-Canadian TV series Vikings.

- "I first wanted to go by Ragnar, like the main character," he says, "but then I thought it sounded a bit too pompous. Floki is also important, but he’s more in the background, in the shadows. That fits me better. I want to do something useful, too — but I don’t need the glory. Besides, he was a seafarer, a master shipbuilder, and the first to discover Iceland. One day, I’d like to discover it for myself as well."

- Do you think you’re alike in character?

- "Sometimes I’m just as quirky," he smiles. "Especially around my own people. But if someone talks to me without knowing me, they might think I’m the opposite — more reserved, even grounded. I tend to be an observer when I meet new people. I watch how they act, what they talk about, what drives them — and only then I start gently weaving those threads of connection."

- Did your civilian profession help you adapt to the war in any way? I know some actors say they managed to cope by imagining themselves as characters in a movie.

- There’s some truth to that. I’ve caught myself slipping into a new role, too. For me, it wasn’t something terrifying. I saw it this way: the previous role ended, so now I’ll do everything I can to make sure this next one works out. And of course, we all have one overarching goal: for this "performance" to end in our victory.

In general, the profession helps in that it’s easier for me to communicate with people. To connect with people, to communicate somehow. It speeds up teamwork and helps us understand each other better.

- As a commander, that must be especially valuable — you need to know how to communicate effectively with your personnel...

-  Absolutely. By the way, I’m fairly new in this position. I was appointed commander right when we expanded from a battalion into a regiment. I’m doing my best to handle it. And I still draw on the theatre — I see myself as the director of our little crew. For example, I don’t say, "Guys, go dig a trench." I grab a shovel and say, "Guys, let’s go dig a trench." That applies to everything we do — we’re a team, and we have a shared mission.

- Do you try to stay close to your troops?

- Exactly! Even when they jokingly ask, "Commander, what’s the plan?", I tell them, "Relax! What commander? We just have slightly different responsibilities, that’s all. But in the end, we’re all in the same boat."

- But your level of responsibility is also higher now.

- Absolutely! Because now I’m responsible not only for myself, but also for my comrades who are "in the same boat" with me.

- Tell us, how did you get to the war?

- I didn’t join the military right away. When the full-scale invasion began, I was in Kyiv. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening at all. It felt like a dream. My friend, also an actor, woke me up and said, "You guys better wake up — the war has started." And I was like, "No way!" Then I slept for another hour (smiles. – O.M.). But when I finally woke up, there were loud bangs. I went out onto the balcony. I saw people running out of the building, getting into their cars, and driving off. And I thought: maybe everyone knows something, and I’m the only one who doesn’t?! Even though the day before, there was information about troop buildups and people were talking about whether a big war might start. I thought to myself: it’s the 21st century, the world’s already been divided — how can someone just attack another country?! It’s supposed to be a civilized world! I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that this could actually happen.
So then my mom told me that my uncle was driving to Odesa (Volodymyr is originally from there – O.M.) and would pick me up. And I was like, "What do you mean, to Odesa?!" I was reading the news — the Russians were already near Kyiv. That was it, no point going anywhere. The enemy was "knocking at the gates." I had to do something, had to defend myself. I started looking into the Territorial Defense Forces. I was thinking: where do I go? How do I get a weapon? I saw they were distributing arms in Obolon — I could head there. I was ready to go, but then I got a message from two girls, my colleagues from the theater: "There's just the two of us. We're scared. Let's stick together." So we met up and went as a group to a village in the Kyiv region, to a summer house. By the way, one of those girls would later become my wife. That's when our relationship began, in the first days of the war. Before that, we were just colleagues in the theater, friends. But I guess fate decided otherwise. We started dating. I didn't join the military at that point. But in early March, when news came out about Bucha and Irpin, I realized I couldn't just sit and do nothing. So I went back to Kyiv and showed up at the enlistment office. I stood in line in the morning, came up to the desk and said, "Good afternoon! I want to register at my place of residence, because I'm registered in Odesa. I'm ready to join the Armed Forces." They replied, "If you're registered in Odesa, go there!" I called our director, who had been drafted into the army right away, and asked him where he went. He said the enlistment office in Dniprovskyi District. So I went there. There was already a long line. I approached a soldier and asked, "What do I need to do to join the Armed Forces faster?" He said, "Alright, listen — don’t stand in line. Go straight to get a chest X-ray and a blood test. We’ll have the military medical commission on Thursday, come then and we’ll take you." He asked if I had served and how old I was. At that time, I was 24. I hadn’t served. He said, "In that case — no. You’re a conscript in peacetime." So what was I supposed to do? He advised: "You can choose the unit you want to serve in, find their military base, go there, and sign a contract with them if your skills fit their needs." I understood. I went home and thought: what exactly is a unit?! Where do I even find one?! (smiles. – O.M.). I started googling. It’s so complicated! Then I wondered: what useful skills do I have? I can act on stage, sing, dance, juggle clubs. Hmmm, not many useful army skills there (laughs. – O.M.). So what now?! I’ll show up and say, "Good morning, I’m an actor. Sign me up for a contract!" Okay, first I need to figure out what kinds of units exist. Then someone offered me to join a charity clearing rubble in Bucha and Irpin. Oh, well, at least I’ll be doing something useful for now.

We traveled to the deoccupied territories of the Kyiv region, helped, and saw the horrific consequences that Russia had already brought to Ukrainians. Considering that the theater was not working, we had no work. So, together with like-minded theater people, we started performing for children from the Kyiv region. I thought to myself: at least I'm doing something useful. Then all of us young people — actors, directors, artists were kicked out of the theater. On the eve of a full-scale war, a new director and administration arrived. So the theater was also occupied by the authorities. The director said he would do whatever he wanted. Anyone who didn't agree with him was out. Everyone was pushed out and fired. We continued to perform for children who had experienced a lot of horror. You should have seen their eyes... But they were still thrilled, laughing, running up to us after the show, hugging us, holding our hands. They were truly grateful. So were their parents. I thought that at least this way we could somehow heal these children. That's how I found a way to be useful. But I knew that sooner or later I would go to war anyway.
In 2023, I decided to propose to my now-wife. We got married. After that, I started thinking again about how I could actually be useful to the army. I began looking into what I could do. At that time, different units were actively recruiting. At the same time, there was a lot of talk in the information space (possibly part of a psyop) about people receiving letters of request but ending up somewhere they hadn’t intended. There were warnings like: "Don’t go! They’ll send you somewhere else!"

It was hard to make a decision, because the motivation I had at the beginning started to fade a bit due to all those reports. I thought: maybe I’m seeing things through rose-colored glasses, and the reality isn’t as good as I imagine? Some people told me: "What, are you going to fight instead of the People’s Deputies and their kids?"

- Now you can also hear such words ...

- Yes! Nothing had changed. But you know, I found my own answer back then. I watched an interview with one of the Azov commanders who said: "I’m not fighting for Donbas or for the children of People`s Deputies. I’m fighting so the enemy doesn’t reach my family." That really motivated me. So when people asked why I was joining the military, I would say I’m doing it for my newly formed family and for the future of our country. I wasn’t concerned with what exactly my role in the army would be. What mattered to me was having competent and experienced leadership — one that values its personnel and knows what it’s doing. A command I could trust, where I’d feel confident, useful, and part of a shared mission. I started asking around among my friends. At the same time, I took a course in FPV engineering, bought a soldering iron, did a bit of soldering at home, downloaded a simulator onto my laptop, and got a controller to practice flying. I was learning at least some basic skills — just in case I could get in as a pilot.

My wife remembered one of our colleagues from another theater who had also recently joined the military. She found out that he had joined AHILLES (the 429th Separate Regiment, which until recently had been the AHILLES strike UAV battalion under the 92nd Separate Mechanized Brigade – O.M.). He said he really liked it and didn’t regret his decision at all. Then I came across a recruitment ad for the unit. I submitted an application. They got back to me. I passed the interview and later spoke with the commander of what was then still the strike company — Banderas https://censor.net/en/resonance/3492967/pozyvnyyi_banderas. They told me there might not be any openings left for FPV pilots.
They asked if I’d be willing to become a bomber pilot instead. I said: no problem at all! I’m ready to do whatever I can be useful at.

- But you didn’t know what bombers were at that point, right?

- No! They explained it to me a little. But they said, "That’s preliminary. You still might end up flying FPVs." I completed the Basic Combined Arms Training course. We had great training with experienced combat instructors. I absorbed the knowledge so intensely that they even gave me a letter of appreciation for my patriotism and top performance. That felt good. I knew I was moving in the right direction. I received my letter of request. Then came the training within AHILLES. I was told I’d be working with bombers after all. I practiced flying at the training range — it went pretty well. Then I was added to a crew and told I’d be going on combat missions with those guys. Just three days later, I deployed. When I arrived, things were tense. But I told myself: the trainee phase is over, now it’s real combat conditions. You have to listen to the sky — the whistling, where things are landing — and stay alert.

- What was your first combat flight like?

- My hands were shaking (smiles. – O.M.). I felt a huge sense of responsibility. I realized: everything depends on this flight — whether the drone comes back, whether the mission is accomplished. So yeah, my hands were shaking, and sweating a little too. I kept thinking: I hope everything goes well, I hope I don’t let anyone down, I hope I reach the target and complete the mission. It was a bit nerve-wracking. But then came the second flight, the third and with experience, you start to feel more confident. You begin to understand the drone itself — and that it’s not flying you, you’re flying it.

-  What are the advantages of a night bomber? I remember a year ago, your colleagues told me that Russians called it "Baba Yaga" and were really afraid of it.

- They were afraid back when those bombers were still something new. They didn’t understand what it was — something big buzzing overhead and dropping things. Creepy stuff! But time has passed. They’re not as scared of "Baba Yaga" anymore. Some even hunt for it and try to shoot it down. It really depends on how experienced the people we’re flying over are. Sometimes it’s just infantry sent into an assault — they panic, group together, and have no idea where to run or what to do. They might not even fire at the drone. But there are others who know what to do. Those ones aren’t so scared anymore.

Still, I’ve noticed that on our section of the frontline, Russians no longer move around at night the way they used to. There was a time when we could freely hunt them, stop their movements, and restrict their mobility. Now they’re more cautious. They know that "Baba Yaga" sees them. Sometimes we come across stragglers who’ve lost their way — but lately, there are fewer of them. In the past, they even attempted night assaults with large groups of troops, but we shut those down. These days, they try to launch assaults closer to dawn. But even then, our drones do their job — the bombers lay mines along the routes of enemy vehicles. That disrupts their assault pushes or, at the very least, slows the column down. Then FPV drones finish the job, striking the equipment.

Delivering humanitarian supplies to the guys on the front line is also extremely important. Sometimes the situation is such that it’s logistically impossible to get them even basic things — water, food, or medicine. If we manage to deliver that — even without striking the enemy — it still means the night was a success. You know, we just want to do everything we can to make sure those Russians don’t even reach our guys on the front line. That’s how we try to operate: mining, striking, and helping.

- And what does the enemy use against you at night?

-  They’ve got night FPVs. They hunt both equipment and personnel. They don’t have large drones like ours, but they do have FPVs modified to act like bombers, so they can drop stuff too.

- Military personnel often say that the number of enemy UAVs has increased recently…

- It really has. They probably brought in new crews. For example, before, we could usually tell whose FPV was in the sky. Now both ours and theirs are flying. By the way, their drones have a serious range now. They can cross the entire section of the frontline and hit our logistical routes.

- Do you feel like you’re a priority target for the enemy?

-  Absolutely! That’s definitely the case. That’s why we try to stay as camouflaged as possible, leave behind as few traces as we can, so we don’t get detected, and limit our movement. If a crew gets spotted, you have to change position right away, because everything will start flying in your direction!

- Your commander, Yurii Fedorenko, recently said that every UAV operator in your unit must know how to handle small arms, because the frontline is constantly shifting. You’ve had training, so you know how to shoot. That means you go out on missions armed, right?

- Of course! When we deploy, every soldier must carry their assigned weapon. It must be zeroed in, because as the commander said, the frontline is dynamic. We’re not stationed deep in the rear, where you can just walk around without weapons or body armor and launch drones in peace, as many people imagine. We’re close enough to the line of contact that, in the event of a breakthrough, we can be called on to help repel it.

- By the way, have you ever engaged in a firefight?

-  No, but there was a risk. There was a breakthrough, but the crew successfully repelled the attack using their own assets.

- Do aerial battles ever happen?

- It’s happening more and more often. Just like we’re trying to improve our methods, the enemy is too — they try dropping nets, deploying different systems. You know, we really value our drones. But the Russians, when they see "Baba Yaga," don’t even hesitate to sacrifice their Mavics just to try and ram it. We’ve had cases where we’re flying and spot an enemy Mavic that just crashes straight into our drone. They didn’t manage to take us down. But as I said, they also drop nets. And they hunt us with FPVs. So yeah — air battles do happen.

- Weather plays a big role for drones. And it’s changing now (we’re speaking on April 25 – O.M.). Things must be easier for you now that there’s no snow or strong wind, right?

- Generally, yes. The intensity of flights drops during heavy snow or rain. The current weather is ideal for us, of course. But it’s just as ideal for the enemy. So in that sense, it’s a level playing field. Although, in bad weather, we might even have a slight advantage — because FPVs can’t fly in fog or rain, but bombers can. So a bit of moisture in the air actually works in our favor — we gain the upper hand.

- You’re fighting in the Kharkiv direction. How would you describe the current situation there?

- As famous people say: the situation is under control.  On our section of the frontline, we’ve so far been able to stop enemy assaults and advances involving armored vehicles. They try almost every day. Sometimes they attempt to move in small groups. But the front is never completely still. The enemy is constantly trying to push forward as far as they can.

- The topic of a potential ceasefire is dominating today’s agenda. What do you think about it?

-Things are moving so fast right now that I can barely keep up. People are talking about it, sure — but the fighting continues. The enemy is advancing. Our task is to stop them. That’s the priority. As for the rest… you know, I don’t believe in a ceasefire with those who have spent centuries trying to erase everything Ukrainian — our language, our culture, our literature — actors, directors, composers. This baseless hatred is already in the Russians’ blood. I don’t think a ceasefire is realistic. Even if, under pressure from the U.S. or someone else, one does happen — it won’t change their intentions. They’ll stay the same — they’ll still want to destroy Ukraine. Maybe they’ll return to that plan in three years or five. Maybe they’ll use different methods next time — involving other countries, for example. But until that empire collapses, this war will go on. I want to believe that European countries are finally beginning to understand how serious this is — and that they’ll start acting accordingly. That they won’t turn away. I’ll say this for now: what’s happening in the world has no impact on the frontline. The war is still ongoing. The enemy is still advancing.

- We started this conversation by talking about your civilian profession. Let’s finish on that note. Would you like to return to acting after the war? Do you even think about where you’ll be?

- When I think about it, it honestly scares me a little (smiles. – O.M.). Then I tell myself: yeah, it’s unclear when that moment will even come. It’s the uncertainty. And to be honest, I don’t really have anywhere to go back to. I was kicked out of the theater where I’d worked for five years.
And in general, I don’t know what to do with acting anymore. Will I even still have the skills? I mean, I’m not performing on stage right now.

You see, an athlete is constantly training, keeping their body in shape. It’s the same for an actor. If you don’t stay immersed in the craft, you lose your natural flow. Right now, I honestly feel like all of that belongs to a past life. After the war, I’d like to create something of my own. Maybe it’ll be a theater project — including veterans, those who, like me, will have no place to return to. Something to help them adapt to civilian life. But for now, as Taras Bilka said: "We’ve got our job to do."

Olha Moskaliuk, Censor.NET
Photos provided by the interviewee