How is psychological support provided in AFU in fourth year of full-scale war? Look at problem through eyes of military psychologist Vitalii Fisun
A simple conversation with Armed Forces of Ukraine officer and military psychologist, Captain Vitalii Fisun, quickly evolved into an in-depth interview filled with systemic observations and well-grounded proposals. From the very beginning, our interlocutor was ready for a serious discussion about the problematic state of psychological support for Ukrainian servicemen. Censor.NET had no objections.
In the interview, Fisun spoke about the vestige of Soviet-style military psychology, such as the practice of "disciplining conscripts", as well as the age-specific characteristics of those currently fighting. He also assessed the level of moral and psychological abuse faced by soldiers and shared a grim account of how military psychologists are deliberately burdened with "non-specialized" tasks.
From our side, Censor.NET was keen to ask Fisun about his experience working with troops on the front line; what soldiers and their commanders are thinking and striving for today; what service members are dissatisfied with; and what problems lie behind the abbreviation "AWOL."
By nature, Vitalii is someone for whom meticulous dedication to his chosen field comes first. At the same time, he defends his views with emotional intensity and determination—the kind of person who is fundamentally incompatible with becoming a cold-blooded functionary of the system. While he may find much to critique in his current role as a military psychologist in Ukraine’s Defense Forces, he also has clear, well-developed proposals for improving the situation. Perhaps those who design and approve decisions should consider listening to Captain Fisun?
- In a military position in grade, you appear in several roles. Which one is primary?
- As a military psychologist, I have clearly defined duties in line with my official position. However, being subordinate to the deputy commander for personnel psychological support (PPS) places me within a strict vertical structure of "morale officers" — a system in the Armed Forces of Ukraine that performs a dual function. The first is a command role — the deputy commander for PPS, according to the Statute, is "a superior to all personnel." The second is to serve as a sort of psychologist — in other words, "an equal among equals." But to carry out core psychological functions (such as providing support, therapy, intervention, counseling, training, and so on) a completely different behavioral model is required from that of a commanding officer. These two role models (that of a superior and that of a psychologist) often conflict with each other. The first model is a legacy of the Soviet army’s morale officers system, with its emphasis on moral-psychological pressure and "disciplinary work." The latter requires equality and partnership in addressing the psychological consequences of combat stress, and is rooted in empathy, trust, and compassion.
At the same time, there is also the command line of authority — a command-administrative, order-based structure. This often leads to misunderstandings in the psychology of personnel management and creates its own tensions, conflicts, and systemic problems. A typical dichotomy arises: you’re either for the people or for career ambitions and command privileges! Another common issue is when a command wants "a smart psychologist" for the position, only to then dictate what and how that psychologist should do their job. Orders often come from individuals who make no effort to understand the nuances of actual psychological work. Let’s put it this way: this is when command will overrides intellect.
As for my various roles, I’ve served in different positions: as a battalion psychologist, as deputy company and battery commanders for PPS, and most recently as the head of one of the psychological units at brigade level. That was a combat stress control group. So I’ve had experience at the company, battalion, and brigade levels of what used to be called "psychological support," now officially labeled as "psychological sustainment."
- Where have you served during this war?
- I’ve served in the east, on the Bakhmut direction, and further north, on the Lyman and Kupiansk directions, as well as in the Kharkiv direction. Currently, I’m stationed in the south.
- What does your workday usually start with?
- You start working, planning, usually in the morning, so that by 8:00 a.m. you’re already either reporting something or heading out to carry out a task. You prioritize your activities based on which unit most urgently needs psychological support directly from a specialist and from there, you determine where you need to go. So the first priority is requests from combat units and from the psychologists assigned to those units. But higher command usually has its own view and they often treat you like a free-floating resource: "You go where the senior officer sends you." Even though, according to official documents, our primary function is to serve in the "high-attention psychological support group" — meaning we’re supposed to focus on the soldiers who are seriously affected, those who are, as they say, really "burned out" and need focused psychological care. We’re meant to take care of them. But in practice — unfortunately — they often end up at the bottom of the list, if there’s time left.
- Why are they at the bottom of the list? What actually fills up your workday?
- Tasks are constantly handed down from above through the command chain, which means your own plans are easily overridden—or not taken seriously at all. Roughly 70 percent of my time goes to handling ad-hoc orders from the command. In broad terms, these orders are actions aimed at "increasing controllability" of personnel or entire units.
In practice, that translates into dealing with problem cases—disciplinary offenders—essentially doing the job of a military-justice system that doesn’t fully exist in the Armed Forces of Ukraine. As a result, the psychologist’s attention ends up going not to the "combat" or the "burnt-out" troops (by "burnt-out" we mean those whose mental coping mechanisms can no longer handle combat stressors) but to those with discipline issues…
- Give an example of this kind of "plan reshuffling."
- Here's a classic situation: I set work priorities for myself and my subordinate psychologists for the day—or for the week (I’m not even talking about a month). I pick which units to visit: (typically those that have suffered heavily in combat; units with a large number of personnel who need qualified psychological attention because of accumulated long-term fatigue, maladaptation, or trauma; or units that require psychological evaluation before being sent to the rear.) Then a new task drops in: "Go to a rear-area unit and screen more soldiers for the front line, because the shortage of manpower at the front is permanently critical!" Supposedly, it’s a "psychological selection," so, psychologist, go handle it! I ask them to issue a combat order, but of course, there is none addressed to a psychologist.
- A reader might argue: Perhaps your involvement in the selection process is necessary?
- "Selection" in this case means pointing out to the commander who should be sent to the front line. That happens because the command-administrative work isn’t being done, whether by the HR department or the officer responsible for personnel. Or because commanders aren’t in a position to just "send people out" on various "ad hoc assignments." And so involving psychologists has become common practice — the logic being: they're smart, they’ll handle it somehow. In reality, what’s called "psychological work" in such cases is supposed to justify a commander’s personal decision, one that carries the risk of resistance from the troops (for example, AWOL — absence without leave). If that resistance happens, the "reason" can easily be pinned on the psychologist.
Near Kostiantynivka, Bakhmut axis, spring 2023
- Not even so much the reason, as the scapegoat.
- Yes, the problem isn’t that there’s still personnel in the rear support units of combat brigades who can fight but, say, don’t want to go to the front line — and that a psychologist needs to come in and somehow motivate them. By the third year of full-scale war, the rear units of combat brigades are often filled with those who’ve been wounded or concussed multiple times; older servicemen; or individuals who, due to health or legal reasons, can no longer serve in trenches or carry out high-risk assignments — but are still capable of repairing equipment or handling logistics. So this isn’t a psychological issue — it’s an HR, medical, or legal one (like the case of a caregiver or someone supporting service members with disabilities). This is classic: when the command-and-control system and its deputies for psychological support fail to do their part, the most "universal" personnel are thrown onto the metaphorical grenade. Especially when, in this war, practically anything involving people can be rebranded as a "psychological issue."
- So basically, they drag the psychologist in—and you’re using a microscope to hammer nails?
- Exactly. A typical case: you arrive and the atmosphere is already poisoned by orders from higher up. Picture a unit made up of personnel with limited or minimal combat fitness—men over 50, repeatedly wounded, maimed, yet not formally discharged by the medical board. And they send a psychologist to that unit to ‘find reinforcements’! (sarcastically — Ye.К.) Maybe someone’s hiding… How do you think those people greet the psychologist? In such units, the ‘psychologist’s work’ turns counter-productive, because the psychologist’s main social capital—TRUST—has already been destroyed."
- We'll come back to this issue... Tell us how contact with your military wards begins. So you arrive at the unit where these "floated" guys are. Having studied their personal files and received information from their commanders, you understand what you are likely to see and hear. But how do you start a conversation with the soldiers?
- We’re not allowed—like HR officers—to work with the soldiers’ personal files. On the contrary, we first speak with the commanders to coordinate our work in the unit and identify the problems. Very often it’s about the commander’s "headache": the disciplinary brig rats. But we try to go where there are truly burnt-out troops—those worn down by combat. We talk with them and with their commander about what’s bothering them and what has happened. Our primary goal is to determine the causes of their psychological problems and mental changes, and then help accordingly. A demographic file doesn’t add much to this rapid assessment; that’s better suited for in-office, in-depth research. We go to a unit to coordinate whatever limited resources exist and apply maximum effort to resolve complex psychological problems as quickly as possible—if there’s a chance to do so.
- And what if there’s no such perspective?
- In that case, we recommend sending the soldier to the medical unit for in-depth clinical evaluation. But this is where command often redirects your efforts toward social issues. "Write up the unit’s problem areas!" So what happens is a substitution of psychological work with "social" or even "sociological" tasks — essentially searching for problems in the unit to justify the "will of higher command." But real social work requires entirely different methods — long-term observation, studying the service conditions of the soldier and his unit, plus the key psychological factors: the influence of commanders and the overall environment. That’s exactly what deputy commanders for PPS are supposed to be doing. So what we get is a blurring of boundaries: psychological work gets mistaken for social work, and the actual requirements are replaced. Instead of addressing a soldier’s internal psychological issues, you end up writing reports about what the unit lacks or what soldiers are complaining about in daily life. Some even travel without notifying the command, to catch "unfiltered" problems off guard. That turns them into field inspectors or internal auditors which is a completely different function. As a result, psychologists often face mistrust from units during such visits, because they’re seen as spies sent by command to sniff out "problems."
- But let’s get back to working with the soldiers.
- So, you go to the soldier to better understand him. The conversations usually take place wherever the unit is based — most often in a village, from which the soldier goes to the front line (or returns from it); a place where he can do laundry, wash up, rest, and prepare for deployment. We rarely go directly into the trenches. That’s prohibited. But if it’s quiet and there's a chance to visit the fighters right at the position, a psychologist’s presence is encouraging for them. Personally, I go there with professional curiosity and drive. I want to go — because only then can you see and feel the environment and how it impacts the mind.
Ramparts near Chasiv Yar, 2023
- And this helps deepen both your understanding of the soldiers and their trust in you?
- Of course. But many psychologists don’t want to even show their face out there. They believe the command understands psychology better, see it all as an unnecessary risk, and assume that " yes-men psychologists" will definitely be added to combat orders for extra pay. And that creates a serious problem — how do you work with frontline soldiers when everyone’s in combat? I’ve hardly heard of any real unit rotations for recovery during this war. Usually, being moved to the second line of defense already counts as "rotation." But even there, they get hit by drones and GABs (guided aerial bombs)... Because of the personnel shortage at the front, most troops stay at their positions for months — with all the obvious mental consequences. And those are exactly the ones I often can’t work with directly! When you arrive at a unit’s base location, it’s usually just the support staff there — a logistics sergeant, a supply truck driver, or a few officers from the command chain. The actual fighters are always at their positions, or the commanders have carefully prepared to avoid letting a "problem-hunting psychologist" show up — or to avoid pulling even a single combat-ready soldier for "therapy."
- So let’s say a "burned-out" serviceman walks in. How do you earn his trust?
- First of all, you have to understand that, three years into the war, the prevailing emotional state across the Armed Forces is one of heightened aggression, hypervigilance, and paranoia — all shaped by the war itself. Add to that the widespread social cruelty and the all-too-common injustice. There’s a habit now — to distrust everything, to double-check whether someone’s trying to manipulate you.
- Do they ever ask you, "Why did you call me in? What are you going to do to me?"
- Not quite with a victim complex — that "do to me" part (laughs). But given the widespread "chain-of-command" mindset in the military and how often unchecked authority gets abused — often by "burned-out" commanders themselves, who haven’t had a single rotation and badly need a psychologist too — it makes sense. Punishment remains the dominant reflex in the system, so troops are naturally wary and cautious. A psychologist who shows up out of nowhere, starts asking questions — what for? Where will that info go? Upstairs? And then it’ll come back to bite them. So you start with trust-building. Of course, by now they also know who you are (there aren’t that many brigade-level psychologists) so they size you up quickly: who you are as a person, and how safe it is to open up.
- How do they know? Word of mouth?
- Yes. There tends to be better understanding among the soldiers themselves, because the military hierarchy which includes psychologists is the first source of distrust. And then the unit commander or his deputy will ‘instruct’ them not to say too much. The soldier they let you talk to was, let’s say, selected in advance (loyal). That alone, before the meeting with me, already affects the outcome — everyone wants to look better than they really are. It’s a natural psychological mechanism.
Building trust in the fourth year of war is becoming increasingly difficult. But there’s another issue: in our professional community, many so-called psychologists are not classical psychologists at all — instead, they’re looking for ways to curry favor. And the quickest path to that lies through servility to superiors. That’s why an operational report written in ‘properly’ worded, conformist phrases is valued more than hard fieldwork with soldiers or serious efforts to explore root causes which often lead the clients back to themselves, the poor quality of command-and-control culture.
The collection of information in the name of so-called "problem identification," which has become a cult practice among psychologists in some units, now often requires photo evidence of this ‘work’. Again, this stems from the desire to maintain full control and avoid being manipulated by "yes-men psychologists". The cult of centralized authority with little actual accountability (due to the lack of military justice), and the post-Soviet model of coercive, force-based management leads to a kind of "lordship", "serfdom", or "inquisition" — a hunt for the disloyal! The cult of total control over personnel and coercion destroys initiative and trust. Unfortunately, this in the Armed Forces of Ukraine comes from the Soviet Union — that very imbalance of rights and responsibility in command, and the mismatch between punishing the innocent and rewarding the uninvolved."
- So a ‘burnt-out’ soldier comes to see you. You've managed to overcome the initial paranoia and built some trust. What happens next?
- For me, the goal isn’t to expose him or trick him into trusting me. My objective is to help. Trust just makes it easier but there are other ways too. The key is not to do harm. That’s why I observe how he lives day to day, what problems have been bothering him lately, when he last had leave, when he last got proper rest, when he was last deployed to the front, and how long and how often he’s been rotating in and out. Most commanders consider these kinds of ‘trivial details’ the least of their concerns. They’ve got missions to complete!
- So you immediately look for the underlying factors that could potentially lead to a crisis?
- Yes. Usually, you arrive and the soldier is shouting about his problems — figuratively speaking, of course. But the key is to move through that emotion toward practical ways to help. In the military, almost everything runs on emotions, and the widespread use of profanity is proof of that."
- What are the most common problems?
- Again, the issue of rest. The issue of leave. The issue of commanders issuing reckless, poorly thought-out orders and acting on impulse. I often find that what’s really needed is more work with the command staff and better leadership practices. Commanders need to learn anger management techniques. That’s far more effective than taking out their frustration on subordinates. Because just imagine senior officers at the brigade level — they’re also exhausted and overwhelmed with stress and fatigue. But they can offload their emotions onto subordinates (also a kind of ‘therapy’). They get it off their chest and move on, carve out some time to rest. Battalion commanders offload onto company commanders, using command language and profanity. Company commanders pass it further down, all the way to the rank-and-file. It rolls downhill like a snowball: growing, intensifying, becoming more dramatic. This circulation of negativity within the Armed Forces is terrifying. It stems from low psychological literacy. The commander’s basic emotional unit is profanity. But the soldier has nowhere to offload. So he often channels it into group emotions, protest, alcoholism, drug use, or after building up for too long, into AWOL. And these cases are on the rise. It all reflects the ineffectiveness of our psychological support system and the PPS service as a whole. That’s the issue I’m trying to develop proposals to address."
- We’ll return to that later, but for now, let’s continue diagnosing the problems you’re facing. Tell me, what’s specific about your work with commanders? You said earlier that it’s often them you have to work with.
- We understand what needs to be done. There’s a high level of conflict in commander–subordinate communication, where the commander is ‘always right.’ Because in a unit, a commander is often both king and god. The system of centralized authority and the Statute allows him to look, including at the psychologist, from the top down. But he is just as much a ‘party in the social conflict’ as the subordinate, only with more responsibility, which he also has better tools to avoid. A proper system of military justice to ensure both rights and accountability in the Armed Forces of Ukraine still doesn’t fully function. So the opportunity to work with commanders only arises when they themselves become aware of the need, when they are willing to be a patient. And that requires limiting their EGO, which is rarely realistic. Finding an empathetic commander at war is extremely difficult. Most are hardened, strong-willed, and, as we say, ‘wooden,’ meaning deaf to the ‘whining’ of subordinates. On top of that, they’re under immense pressure — from the front line, from their own higher command, and from poor logistical support. There’s enough of a headache already, which is why volunteering is so widespread in our country, as they say, not because life in the AFU is so great. And we should be working more with this level of leadership. For example, in the U.S., a court can easily mandate a psychotherapy course even for a commander. But here, in reality, problems are passed down (and punishment is directed) at the weaker party. That’s why I see our, the psychologists’, assistance to the AFU command echelon as low in effectiveness. It’s a systemic issue: conflicts between commanders and subordinates escalate tensions. And the scale of AWOL cases is no coincidence. This happens despite all sociological data consistently showing a high willingness to ‘defend one’s homeland.’ In other words, the will to fight is massive but it’s being systematically beaten out of people.
- Give an example.
- Let’s say an order comes down to move out to a position. And — there’s a wave of refusals to follow the order. What do you do then? You can’t force someone to risk their life and health through disciplinary action alone.
- What does the commander do?
- He resorts to harsh punishment measures — public disciplinary crackdowns. And for that, the entire vertical chain of deputy commanders for PPS gets involved. This is what soldiers have come to associate with psychological support. If only we had a functioning system of military justice…
- Namely?
- They strip you of everything starting with your pay. Internal investigations follow which also fall under the responsibility of personnel psychological support! Refusals are treated as a serious criminal offense; the person gets sent to trial (handled by PPS). On top of that, they’re left with nothing — deprived of combat pay already earned. It escalates into outright abuse: the soldier isn’t paid even for what he’s already fought for, there are delays in payouts for injuries. In general, financial abuse involving combat-related compensation is a whole separate issue. It’s a kingdom of constant and deliberate ‘mistakes’ by commanders made for ‘disciplinary purposes,’ with zero accountability! There’s a cult of saving on combat payments at every level, especially when it comes to destroyed military equipment. And no one is held responsible which is why soldiers hold deep contempt for this kind of ‘justice’ and command culture, where ‘there is no truth.’
- You have to deal with people whose attitude toward combat ranges from ‘I’m not going back there’ to ‘Give me more of those b**tards, I’ll tear them apart with my teeth.’ Do you have a basic approach for both states? Let’s start with the so-called "refuseniks".
- Sure. These days, most of them are fairly experienced — they’ve been through battles and long marches, they’ve been under fire. So if someone refuses now, it’s not just because he’s afraid. He’s already gone through that phase, he knows how to manage fear, how to handle combat stress. What he’s pointing to are long-standing health issues, both mental and physical exhaustion. Think about it — many of these guys have been carrying ammo and body armor for three years straight. They’ve got blown-out backs, knees, menisci — everything hurts and turns into serious chronic conditions. And you have to keep in mind that the personnel is aging compared to the early years of the war. I’m increasingly working with people aged 40+, even 50+. And these people are routinely ignored when they say they need to see a doctor. It’s like with the military medical commission (MMC): just wait your turn and as long as you can still walk (meaning you’re not completely wrecked or critically wounded), you’re considered fit for duty. The personnel shortage at the front is brutal. So the MMC declares almost everyone fit — there have even been cases of disabled soldiers with one leg, where the other is held together with plates and pins. It was tragicomic to watch.
- So they tell you all this — about their health conditions, about why they’re unable to follow these orders. What tools do you have to influence or work with these people?
- My main trump card is that I can escalate their issue directly to the command. I get the chief medical officer involved (or call them myself). I go to the higher-ranking commander who may not notice the situation or is himself under orders to keep people holding the positions. And if he’s short on manpower, then who’s going to hold that line?.. (In such cases, they usually threaten to send him to hold the line himself — and that’s what pushes him toward ‘arbitrary actions’).
...That’s why I initiate the involvement of higher-level officials in such cases. If the soldier has a valid justification, it is possible to demand more attention to his needs. But… sometimes, soldiers also manipulate the situation. Yes, he’s got a bad back, a hernia, or something else. But I ask: have you seen a doctor, where’s your medical certificate? — ‘Of course I would’ve gotten one,’ he says, ‘but the commander won’t let me go to the doctor.
- And what does the commander say to that?
- He says: ‘I told him to file a report, to go to the medical unit — but instead, he just walks around talking. After every drinking binge, he starts looking for excuses.’ And yes, there are cases like that too.
- So, whether you like it or not, you end up playing investigator in these situations? Or do you straight-up say: ‘Buddy, I’m not buying your story’?"
- No. I just listen — and then I get to work, I start digging into the case. It becomes clear later whether there are serious health issues or not. But my first response in the conversation is: ‘Alright, I’ll try to help.’ I never want to act like an investigator. That’s a different role — one not all psychologists are willing to reject. Observation — even small actions — reveals a lot: the soldier’s intentions, his motivation. Whether he’s seeking a solution or just trying to avoid service or the risks of frontline deployment.
- Can you give a typical example from your own practice?
- This happened on the Kharkiv axis, in winter January or February. We arrived at one of the battalions. A soldier started explaining his health issues and why he couldn’t go out to the positions. He said he had spinal problems — herniated discs — that made it impossible for him to wear a flak vest and move around in it. His back hurt too much to get to the positions or haul ammo. But still, he had to — because, according to the MMC, a hernia isn’t considered a sufficient reason for exemption or being deemed unfit for duty.
After that conversation, I went to the commander and explained the situation. The commander replied: ‘Well, he’s healthy enough to drink — but not to go to the positions?!’ So here you have it: both sides have their arguments. The commander has a point, and the soldier has real health issues — it’s just that the MMC doesn’t currently consider them serious enough… We tried to help by pushing for him to be reassigned to lighter duties. Though, to be honest, rear units are already packed with these kinds of ‘burned-out’ guys...
- What do soldiers call the ones who drink heavily?
- Avatars… A typical case: a soldier wants something too. He tends to exaggerate — feeling sorry for himself — telling stories about his combat missions, what horrors he’s been through, his health issues. And I can tell he’s embellishing it all to impress me, the psychologist — to make his case seem more serious. Then I go to the commander, and he says: ‘Yeah, he’s been around, ran some missions, but nothing major — he just talks like he’s got enough stories for a whole theatre production.’ And I realize — this is a more fearful soldier who’s trying to manipulate the situation and avoid risk.
There’s often hostility toward the psychologist — like: ‘What do you know? Were you even there? How can you possibly understand what I felt?’ You get that whole: ‘Come back when you’ve actually fought.’ But I’ve been a psychologist for years. I share my own stories — times I’ve been in serious situations, under shelling, going out to positions. What really works is that I study people like him...
The border of the Kharkiv region, after the shelling, winter 2025
- And does this story of yours help? Does the fighter change his attitude towards you?
- It’s psychological fencing — who’s more ‘combat-tested,’ who’s been through more — and it leads nowhere. So I tell him, first of all, that I’ve also been through some "scuffles", and second look, someone doesn’t have to be a frontline warrior to help. A person who studies these experiences, who organizes and systematizes them, can be more effective than someone who just went through something and gives advice based only on their own experience. Usually, this argument works: I say — if I’d gone through what you did and ended up as ‘burned-out’ as you are now, twitching and mentally unstable, how exactly would I be helping anyone?"
- This is an argument. And if a person is in a state of ‘Give me more of those b**tards, I’ll tear them apart with my teeth’? How do you work with that?
- There are fighters who completely lose their sense of caution. Everyone around them knows that kind of person usually finds death quickly. When someone stops caring about personal safety, when they lose their sense of danger or have simply been through too much — that’s dangerous too. In such cases, we talk to the commanders and say: protect that combat unit who fears nothing. Let him rest.
- Can such soldiers still be of value to the mission?
- They’re extremely valuable. But commanders usually assume these guys don’t need any psychological support, so they rarely send them our way — and only as a last resort. What we usually get are the so-called ‘Avatars’: guys with alcohol problems. ‘Here, this one’s a drunk — work with him,’ they say. But treating chronic alcoholics isn’t a job for a psychologist. That requires a rehab clinic, physiological intervention, medication. Often the soldier is drunk, and they call in a psychologist, mostly because he’s happy to have someone to shoot the breeze with. He’s bored, isolated, and looked down on because of his weaknesses. And that’s exactly the kind of behavior that shouldn’t be reinforced. Besides, working with someone who’s drunk is pointless.
- Back to those soldiers who’ve lost their sense of danger — you said commanders are often reluctant to show them. But of course, you ask about them right away. How do you work with them afterward?
- Usually, these are people who’ve witnessed a lot of losses among their brothers-in-arms. That’s why they’re wound up — driven by a need for revenge or something else — ready to tear everything apart. The only thing you can appeal to in a conversation with them is this: ‘Buddy, if you act fast and die, you won’t achieve your goal — and you want so much.
- Do many of these soldiers have families — wives, children?
- No. Typically, family is a restraining factor. These people either never had a family, or left it behind, or found their family within the unit — and then lost people who truly mattered to them.
Besides, your sense of danger dulls when you live in it constantly. Everyone has their own breaking point. Plus, safety measures — both mentally and physically — are extremely demanding. You have to plan and execute everything. You need to stay alert in the trench at all times, constantly wear full gear — helmet and body armor. But if you’ve been sitting in a dugout for a month, you can’t sleep properly in it, you’re always lugging around heavy weapons — even stepping outside to relieve yourself becomes a problem. So it’s understandable that soldiers take off their armor just to get some rest... We’re often told: a soldier arrives at a position, and considering his age, exhaustion, and physical condition — he removes his helmet and body armor, and only then can he actually do something. If there’s no shelling, he starts digging, preparing equipment, maybe even sleeps. And then the shelling or assault begins... Everyone knows that safety measures matter — checking the observation post one more time, listening carefully one more time. All of these are actions aimed at self-preservation. But when you’re worn out, you start cutting corners on safety. You stop double-checking the perimeter, you don’t stick your head out to look for movement. You stop doing what you used to do at the OP (observation post). And now, drones are watching everything. Even stepping out of the shelter puts you in the line of sight of enemy drones.
- Do any of the soldiers ever talk to you about wanting to go AWOL?
- Yes. Usually, commanders think we’re supposed to listen carefully enough to catch if someone’s planning to go AWOL — and then report it so they can take action. Soldiers know it’s a serious offense with real consequences. Most of the time, it’s more of a threat — like: ‘Nobody’s listening to me, I’m fed up with the whole world; maybe if I go AWOL, someone will finally pay attention. Right now, AWOL is a large-scale problem in the army — and part of that is due to unresolved or ignored issues soldiers are facing. Because for a commander, dealing with every single soldier’s problem — why he didn’t get paid in full, why his gear is missing, why he wasn’t covered by artillery during an assault, why his brothers-in-arms didn’t make it, why he himself was wounded — well, commanders often don’t have the answers or the time. Even though, technically, there is a thing called ‘commander briefings’ to address those very issues...
It’s generally believed that you need to identify the hidden leaders — the ones who incite others to go AWOL — because the fewer agitators you have, the fewer cases you'll face. But in reality, I don’t recall a single instance where that kind of influence could actually be identified or prevented. Or where someone could be talked out of going AWOL. No, I haven’t personally encountered a case where someone was openly planning it.What I do hear, though, is this: ‘No one listens to us — the regular guys — so what, should I go AWOL just to get someone’s attention?’ Or there are manipulative threats: ‘If they don’t listen to me, if they don’t grant my leave — I’ll go AWOL.
But there’s an old truth in managing teams: if you want to avoid multiplying conflicts — work on fairness.
- How can you help in a situation like that?
- Classically, I start by asking: when was the last time you were home? Why is there still unpaid leave from the previous year? What other social or domestic issues are there? For example, maybe something happened in the family — say, his mother got seriously ill, and there was no one to take care of her, but he wasn’t granted leave. Or something else along those lines. But the commander usually has an answer too — valid reasons, like a shortage of personnel to hold the line or carry out specific tasks.
- Some say that due to a shortage of psychologists in the military — or because of their lack of professionalism — chaplains end up doing their job instead. Do you agree with that?
- That’s a misconception — it doesn’t reflect reality. On the contrary, I haven’t even seen chaplains in most battalion-level units. Not every brigade has one. In our brigade, for example, a chaplain only recently arrived. Before that, the entire brigade had just one chaplain’s assistant for a long time. So how can one — or now two — people possibly cover all the vacancies for psychologists? No, the real issue is with qualified psychologists — with the fact that an experienced and competent psychologist must also be a personality. Psychology is practiced through personality, through charisma. But personalities are inconvenient for command. What they want are loyal, obedient, servile people — the kind you can say: ‘Run over there, do that’ — and they’ll dutifully carry it out without question. In that case, you don’t even need a brain. But psychological support is, first and foremost, about deep knowledge and experience — the kind of professionalism that truly sets people apart. Still, commanders don’t really listen to such psychologists. They see them as competition for ‘authority.’ And in general, commanders feel insecure about listening to a psychologist — after all, in their EGO-centric world, they’re not someone’s patient
- But in general, is the presence of a chaplain in the unit a plus for you as a psychologist?
- Absolutely. We do the same thing in different areas. Everyone knows that faith in God helps a fighter to overcome fears, to keep his faith, to keep his moral and volitional strength, even when he is not in good health. It is a very powerful thing. And we recommend that if it helps to pray, pray. Sometimes soldiers do it under fire. But everyone has their own way to overcome fear. There is an alternative to prayer in the army - a "victory speech" for non-believers.
- You won’t get information about service members out of a chaplain — his work involves the seal of confession, which makes it impossible to relay certain details to the commander.
- You won’t get information about service members out of a chaplain — his work involves the seal of confession, which makes it impossible to relay certain details to the commander. The chaplaincy service in the Armed Forces of Ukraine is structured properly. It enjoys a degree of autonomy that military psychologists don’t have. No one really interferes in the chaplain’s direct duties. And how could they? What, are you going to show up at a prayer session and start telling them how to conduct worship or provide pastoral care? Of course not. But a psychologist? A psychologist constantly gets told what’s right and what’s wrong... Just like in politics — everyone’s a ‘specialist’ in psychology too! Psychologists get penalized or even dismissed — despite the severe shortage of qualified, experienced professionals. Meanwhile, there’s no shortage of well-connected individuals who avoided the trenches and now hold officer positions after just a three-month course at the Military Institute of Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv (MI KNU).
- Would it be fair to say that, objectively, a soldier is more willing to approach a chaplain than a psychologist?
- It depends. In the units I served in, there were no chaplains. And over the course of the war, I’ve served in five different military units. But in those where chaplains are present, the atmosphere is different. They have the kind of operational autonomy that military psychologists in the Armed Forces of Ukraine simply don’t.
Kharkiv region, spring 2025. I introduced the new chaplain to our UAV unit.
- At the start of our conversation, you spoke bitterly about how psychologists are often assigned tasks from above that should fall under the responsibilities of officers in other roles.
- That’s right. And quite often, it’s a substitution for either the commander’s duties related to discipline or the responsibilities of the deputy commander for PPS, such as ensuring proper conditions and managing the non-combat functioning of the unit.
- For example?
- For instance, the assessment of a unit’s moral and psychological condition should be carried out by the deputy commander for PPS. But in practice, this responsibility is often dumped on psychologists. Moral conduct or patriotic education – these are definitely not part of a psychologist’s functional duties. That’s one area where we are clearly being misused. Another example is selecting personnel for combat roles. To make that kind of assessment, a soldier needs to be observed in the course of their duties. This should be done by the unit commander, who is present and in charge – it’s part of leadership and management. Or at the very least, the deputy commander, who works directly with the personnel, knows them, observes them, and has access to their records, reports, and medical histories – who they are, where they’re from, and what real or perceived health issues they might have. If there are any doubts, they have the authority to refer someone for a medical evaluation or forward the matter to the medical service. Or it might be a legal issue – for instance, if the person has custody responsibilities or other legal grounds that prevent them from being assigned to combat.
- Are there any dominant themes in how long-serving soldiers perceive the rear and the civilians in it? Of course, family and close relatives are a separate topic, but beyond that — how does someone who’s been at the front for a long time view rear-area life when they come home on leave and see how people live behind the lines?
- For a soldier, the rear primarily means supply and logistics. In the earlier years of the war, there were major issues with provision — including artillery support and ammunition. But today, those problems are more or less under control, largely thanks to Western assistance. What remains fundamentally unresolved, however, is that soldiers are still repairing their own equipment, pooling money from their combat pay. Junior commanders often help by including rear or logistics-related positions under combat pay categories. This mechanism is actively used to ensure there’s funding to find and purchase the necessary spare parts.
It’s a very complicated issue, because trying to get a spare part for a logistics or support vehicle through official channels is a long process — and often impossible. There’s simply nothing available in stock. So it’s clear that using personal funds is a faster way to solve the problem. We shouldn't forget that the vehicles used for food delivery or medical evacuation are often those bought through public or volunteer efforts. But nowadays, it’s much harder to raise the kind of money we used to in those "fund jars."
- Many of those fighting at the front, including people I’ve spoken with, are genuinely irritated by the large police presence on the streets of Kyiv, especially given the fact that they’re driving brand-new vehicles, which are desperately needed at the front.
- That’s true. At the front, a vehicle lasts only a few weeks — you’re lucky if it survives a couple of months. But it’s absolutely essential. At the company level, there’s an extreme shortage. One vehicle is somehow kept running until it breaks down, and then the problem begins — evacuating a wounded soldier. Everyone chips in, looks for spare parts, and gets it fixed. Otherwise, in the best-case scenario, you’re looking at days of delays — writing and approving requests, waiting for the logistics service to process it, to send it to the warehouse, and then justifying that it was a combat loss. Often the question arises: is this vehicle officially listed in the unit’s structure? In many cases, volunteer-supplied vehicles aren’t added to the unit’s table of organization, because as soon as a good vehicle is listed officially, a higher-ranking officer might issue an order and reassign it… "somewhere else."
- When you talk to your "burned-out" soldiers, what do they say about the rear?
- That they’re not being provided with spare parts and have to spend their own pocket money to fix vehicles. There are no vehicles for small-scale logistics or last-mile delivery.
They also often demand an answer from me: why are the best vehicles sitting in the rear with security forces? They say things like: "Why the hell do they need that fancy Land Cruiser, all decked out and armored? We could use something like that — it would pull out wounded guys or be a huge help with frontline logistics...
- Do you often hear frustration from soldiers after they return from leave and see what’s going on in the rear?
- Yes. What they notice most is that the Territorial Centre of Recruitment and Social Support (TCR and SSs) are driving top-of-the-line vehicles, while at the front they’re stuck with broken-down junk. I understand — in the supply chain, those structures are higher up and get theirs before anything reaches frontline units. Plus, the wear and tear from operating in off-road, frontline conditions is massive.
They’re also irritated by the fact that in the rear, they face far more checks and arbitrary treatment. Just getting home means going through multiple checkpoints, where they’re searched thoroughly. God forbid they have a single round, a shell casing, or anything else on them. Now there are more aggressive measures to track down draft evaders — hence all the mobile checkpoints. In the rear, it’s all paperwork, lines, and inspections. There was a recent case in the Kharkiv direction — soldiers ended up in a detention facility until it was clarified that their old AWOL status hadn’t been formally cleared...
Or the bodies of the Military Law Enforcement Service (MLES) is out there "showing results" — they detain someone over a database entry, and later it turns out the record was outdated, never removed from the system. So we’re dealing with the dysfunction of the MLES ( a consequence of an underdeveloped military justice system) and it’s the soldier who suffers. It happens often. Even in the past month, I’ve heard of several such cases — and that’s just in one unit.
- Let’s imagine a ceasefire is established. Soldiers return home en masse and reintegrate into civilian life. What trends or issues should Ukrainian society expect from this interaction? Some are already voicing concerns that individuals accustomed to weapons, danger, and adrenaline may contribute to a rise in crime. There are even people who are already pointing fingers at the military.
- It will be a problem. I’ve already raised this issue. That was back in December 2023, in the area of Kivsharivka, on the Kupiansk axis. A journalist from Rada TV channel came to do interviews with our mortar crews. I was there in my capacity as a psychological officer, and they interviewed me too. I spoke directly about this issue: we need to build infrastructure to support the mass reintegration of service members returning home. Their psyches need time and support to transition — from a state of primal survival to normal social life.
Work on the recreation of soldiers in sanatorium conditions, spring 2025
But that TV channel just cut that part out. Probably because it was deemed "irrelevant" or "uninteresting." They wanted to show the brave combat experience — how we’re holding the line. But I want to say this as a psychologist: soldiers who’ve gone through war, who’ve stared death in the face, come out of it with an acute sense of justice. And that becomes the primary trigger for their actions when they return and face the same old reality — corruption, inefficiency, endless queues for medical care. They’re psychologically depleted. They’re not in a state where they can endure it patiently. They’re used to living in a state of combat-driven aggression. When someone shows up injured, wearing plates, and they’re told they’re "healthy" — or denied disability status for some trivial reason, just because the quota has already been handed out to whoever "needed" it…
- And what if, on top of that, the soldier’s family returns from abroad, having seen how life can be lived differently? Imagine the conversations within a household where someone has served on the front lines and now, in peacetime, faces this kind of injustice.
- It’s explosive. It only intensifies the social tension in society — when some people have been living comfortably, getting fatter, while his problems have only multiplied, and no one appreciates what he’s been through. That’s the first thing. And second, in psychology, it takes a significant amount of time and serious rehabilitation procedures to recover from toxic relationships or chronic stress. Maybe there are already some reintegration courses but as far as I know, they exist only within volunteer structures and veteran-led initiatives. Meanwhile, I don’t see any substantial efforts from the state to prepare for this. But this needs to be done. Otherwise, we’ll see a lot of veterans ending up in organized crime groups or joining social protests.
- In your opinion, what kind of impact will returning veterans have on political processes in the country?
- A powerful one. First of all, they will carry enormous authority. And second, they’ve already distanced themselves from the current social system — they’ve lived in a different one — and they’ll now have to readapt to what has essentially become a new social reality for them. Veterans may have a high potential for protest, for direct and decisive action — that’s what life taught them in survival mode. After all, they were fighting for a better life!
- You’re not sitting on Bankova Street, but I’ll still ask for your personal opinion. Do you think the authorities realize that this demand for justice could eventually feed into massive protest movements that might turn against the government itself?
- From the frontline, it’s difficult to analyze government actions without being immersed in the social context and problems or to properly assess the effectiveness of decision-making.
- You speak with many soldiers. Can you predict what percentage of them will return to their prewar jobs after a ceasefire, and how many will choose a new path?
- I believe only a few will go back to their prewar occupations. Over the course of this war, most soldiers have grown in their own eyes. They’ve endured such things! They’re doing something enormous — holding back a much stronger enemy force. Of course, in the rear they’re often maltreated by those in power. Or they’re looked down upon for their pursuit of justice — and that’s definitely a bad sign for future social cohesion. And there will be problems, because at war they were principled and vital — while in civilian life, everything suddenly seems small and insignificant.
- Right now we’re talking about what might happen when people shaped by war return to the rear — to the rear society. Your colleague Oleh Pokalchuk told Livyi Bereh media outlet that, in his view, nothing catastrophic will come of this interaction. I’ll quote: "First of all, nothing particularly dramatic is going to happen. Because, from the servicemen’s perspective — and I’ll allow myself to generalize a bit — what is there in your lovely civilian society that would make me drop everything, leave my brothers- and sisters-in-arms, and rush back to you? For what? After all these years, I have my own circle, my own people — we can sit in silence or talk, and we get each other. So no, there won’t be a conflict. And second, there’s a big difference — a fundamental one — between a change in mood and a change in behavior. Especially in Ukrainian mentality: the more people talk about something, the less likely they are to act on it. Emotions are vented through the media, through our democratic society, through talking it out, through drama, endless arguments. It’s all just steam being let off." Do you agree with this rather optimistic take?
- If we work toward justice, we can soften or redirect this energy. This is serious, passionate energy coming from the more organized and patriotic part of society — those who defended the country. Right now, some of it is being channeled into volunteer work, public forums, blogs, and heated comment-section debates. But there must be large-scale programs aimed at their social reintegration and at drawing on their experience. Because they’ve already learned how to fight and handle weapons — and for peacetime, that’s a challenge. The forgotten skills of living in a civilian society need to be re-learned. This is a major problem, and I wouldn’t be so optimistic as to think that complex issues of social polarization stemming from war can be solved with simple fixes. Most likely, veterans won’t seek to stay tightly bound to their wartime units in civilian life — because those bonds are tied to deeply traumatic experiences. They’ll keep in touch, maintain friendships, sure — but they’ll try to live a peaceful life, a family life, not a militant one. Yes, many will still carry a "wartime mindset"… but I believe most will try to adapt. That is, of course, if their sacrifice is honored and their voices are heard.
- Let’s return to the topic of your professional field. Where are people in your specialty being trained now?
- Right now, Kyiv University is actively training them — specifically through the MI KNU courses. Two to three months of training, and you're already a psychologist and an officer. And that’s a problem. If you’re under 45 and have decent communication skills or some experience working with people, you're a candidate for the program. They send you to these courses. But you can’t become a psychologist in three months — even if you have some natural aptitude. And without the opportunity to grow into the profession through ongoing self-development — especially in wartime — at best, these people become narrowly focused specialists in surviving within military hierarchies, with little room for independent thinking or decision-making, little space to study, reflect, or experiment. Most of what I see are not psychologists, but bureaucrats carrying the title of psychologist. In reality, they perform whatever functions the command assigns — command that is even further removed from psychology and its ethics than the subordinates themselves. The power structure of war is cynical.
- Do you have a vision of what needs to change?
- I do. First of all, if we follow the Western model, military psychologists there are organized into their own association. They have structural autonomy — they don’t operate entirely under the authority of a commander, or in dual subordination (like under a PPS deputy), who supposedly "knows better" — and God forbid you contradict them. You’ll immediately get reprimanded, demoted, reassigned, or stripped of your post — with your right to practice as a psychologist essentially revoked. What could autonomy look like in our case? Something similar to what the medical service has: a separate structure within the Armed Forces, or integrated under the command of the medical forces. The idea is that this service should not be under the direct administrative control of commanders, who could turn psychologists into a submissive apparatus for psychological manipulation — one whose results they don’t even see, because they lack the time or education to grasp the complexities of the human psyche. A commander simply wants the task completed. Either turn a drunk into an assault trooper, or a defiant objector or coward into a highly motivated warrior.
Of course, there are no miracles. Even in proper clinical settings, it can take months of therapy, preventive work, and problem-solving just to get someone to budge — to spark the beginning of a long, independent process of catharsis and self-healing (I’m joking — sort of). And here, even that isn’t possible…
- So the main vector of change lies in separating the command structure for military psychologists? I’m no expert, but to me that sounds like a rational step. After all, reforming the entire army and fixing its structural issues would take a lot of time. But creating a more adequate and autonomous psychological service that could be done much faster.
- Exactly. Because psychology deals with complexity, it requires a university education and substantial experience. But commanders usually want simple solutions and often lack proper understanding of psychological nuances and consequences. You see, even formal documents on psychological support in the Armed Forces clearly state that psychologists should be assessed by higher-ranking specialists. But in reality, they’re evaluated by whoever happens to be around, even a platoon commander who didn’t like something and files a report. That happened to me personally — a soldier started drinking after I visited the unit, and the commander filed a request for an internal investigation. The conclusion? That I supposedly damaged the soldier’s psyche by trying to help him…
- A deputy commander for moral and psychological support (MPS) from one of the mechanized brigades recently told me: "Unfortunately, we spend our time on make-believe, on paperwork, on internal investigations. And all of that eats up the time we should be spending on actual work with people." So logically, if psychologists were separated from the army system — which still suffers from Soviet-style dysfunctions — it would benefit both the work and the results of the psychological service.
- I agree. And I’ll add a few arguments in support of why this approach could be effective. First, it would eliminate a huge amount of army-style imitation in the work of the psychological service. Right now, we’re required to submit piles of reports detailing what we did, who we spoke to, and to maintain logs of every conversation. Endless reports and plans — most of which aren’t even supported with the resources to implement what’s in them. And the so-called "proof" of our work? Photos, which, frankly, could be generated by AI. This turns psychologists into low-level service staff. The position is also ranked in a low pay grade because psychologists aren’t seen as frontline officers. And in a hierarchical structure like the military, respect is based on the perceived value of your role. So you start without any respect to begin with. The autonomization of the psychological service would allow specialists to address critical issues of psychological assessment and the evaluation of intervention effectiveness and mental health support — responsibilities that are currently being carried out by commanders and their deputies (!) — instead of engaging in imitation work or ritualistic exercises in the standup genre. And God forbid someone challenges the established order of things.
Here’s another example. In the U.S. Army, each service member has a digital psychological profile that tracks their mental health. It’s stored on secure servers within an electronic system. Imagine a psychologist having a tablet and direct access to that system — to the soldier’s previous evaluations, test results, case history. That way, they wouldn’t have to start from scratch every time and could monitor the mental health dynamics over time, supplementing it with their own materials and observations. A multi-faceted assessment involving input from different specialists, all under the supervision of a professional expert community (an association), working to ensure a systemic approach to the soldier’s mental health. There’s no need to generate endless reports. In the U.S. Army, a soldier’s mental health is tracked through dedicated programs as part of a continuous process. By the way, something that seems to have been forgotten in Ukraine’s Armed Forces during the war is the professional ethics of military psychologists. These require strict confidentiality — any personal information shared by a soldier must remain protected. Such information can only be disclosed under specific conditions, in exceptional cases involving a threat to public safety or the risk of suicide.
- And what about here, in our case?
- It’s the complete opposite. Psychologists are expected to report everything they uncover to commanders — about everyone and everything. Their dependence is being cultivated through performative punishments and total control. The ethics of military psychology are largely ignored. Commanders demand all "inside information" and don’t even bother to ensure confidentiality through the most basic regulatory requirements — like providing a separate workspace (an office or even just a desk) or a safe.
- As an example of poor training practices for military psychologists, you mentioned the short-term courses at Kyiv University. Obviously, the alternative would be solid, in-depth training for specialists. But time is short, the country is at war, and the military needs these professionals now. What’s the solution?
- The focus should be on selection and screening — filtering out random individuals from the psychological community by psychologists themselves. But the key question is: Who evaluates the work? After the course, someone enters the field, gains experience, produces results — but who assesses those results? This should be done by a dedicated qualification board or by higher-level psychologists. Instead, everything is evaluated by the commander, someone who doesn’t even know what’s required to support the psychologist’s work. A person, just like a soldier (I’m half-joking here), has two signaling systems: the instinct-reaction level, the first, and higher nervous activity, the second. In the army’s psychological support system, we’re still not operating on that second level of functioning. My own case is a typical example: I’m a career military psychologist, an officer since 1992. I graduated in military psychology back in the day at a military academy, and later developed my expertise in executive roles in the business world, including scientific and teaching practice at the postgraduate level at Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv.
Graduated in 1992 from the Kyiv Higher Naval School, commissioned as a lieutenant in the Navy, serving as a social psychologist aboard submarines.
In the army, I seem to be either too effective or too difficult to grasp. People like me often get pushed out — because issues of combat readiness tend to expose deeper psychological problems within the command system. This is already the third time I’ve been demoted and reassigned away from my role as a psychologist, simply because I’m inconvenient to those who, in practice, do not genuinely care about the personnel. I have a clear vision for more effective approaches to dealing with complex aspects of "psychological sustainment." I have my own opinions, understanding, and I try to address systemic issues, like the growing trend of AWOL cases or other distortions in command structures, including signs of corruption or abuse of power over service members. Still, military psychologists are in short supply — and in high demand. Everyone is searching for their own way to make sense of the psychology of war.
- Some readers might say: "Allright, if he’s been removed from one, two, three positions, maybe he’s the problem? Maybe he’s not as principled as he claims?"
- Fine. If I’m the problem, then my absence should lead to improvements — a drop in AWOL cases in the unit, for example, or a better moral and psychological climate. But that’s not happening. On the contrary, comrades I’m still in contact with say things are only getting worse. They got rid of me simply because I was interfering with the monopoly on the correct opinion. Because my work was aimed at benefiting the soldiers and the unit — not at serving institutional distortions or helping cover them up. So what’s the point of commanders evaluating psychologists, demoting them, issuing reprimands, and so on? The point is to ensure the psychologist doesn’t hold or voice any opinion that differs from the dominant one. That he remains convenient. Commanders often feel threatened by the trust and credibility a psychologist gains, especially when that trust is based on promoting values like human dignity or transparency. They get uncomfortable when a psychologist’s report points to the "wrong" problems because the expectation is to present a clean picture and shield the "right" people. Any critique of the motivation or awards system is seen as a threat, because it undermines soldiers’ belief in fairness when it comes to recognizing combat service.
- How is a psychologist’s professionalism and effectiveness evaluated in the military?
- It isn’t. And that’s the core of the problem. If there were a dedicated command structure — or at least a branch under something like the medical service — with a clearly organized system, such as an association of military psychologists with expert panels… it would create a kind of professional community, a corporate structure.
- Do we have such a professional organization?
- In the civilian sector, yes — there’s the Ukrainian Psychological Association. But in the military, no. Right now, the NCO corps is trying to build something similar — a dedicated sergeant service is taking shape. We, military psychologists, need to move in the same direction.
- Vitalii, since 2023, you've been helping soldiers on the front cope with emotional burnout and various psychological challenges. But what does psychologist Vitalii Fisun do with his own struggles? Who do you turn to?
- For a while, I had a supervisor — someone who supported me emotionally and offered guidance as much as he could. But that couldn’t last indefinitely, because military service has its own specific context, and you can’t fully explain it to someone outside the Armed Forces. I’m still searching… I even write in my reports that psychologists themselves need rehabilitation, and there should be some form of regular peer supervision which is beginning to take shape in certain places. There’s a real need to discuss recurring issues in psychological support within the Armed Forces and combat-related mental health. Look at the example of schoolteachers — they’re granted extended leave due to high psychological strain. Muscle fatigue goes away with rest. Mental fatigue does not. Professional burnout in this field is real. This is a professional necessity. I’m looking for professionals I can trust, as a fellow specialist. With an organized association, this could be built into the system. Of course, you come up with your own recovery routines — walking, exercise, meditation, hobbies, healthy living — the standard things that help. But this is wartime. And extraordinary times require extraordinary measures. It would be incredibly valuable to hold conferences, share current challenges in military psychology, generalize and systematize the experience and then test and implement new approaches across the Armed Forces. But right now, none of that exists. And finding a true expert — someone you could fully trust on your own — is incredibly difficult…
- Yes, and not just for you.
- What I see in the military is a typical system for circulating psychological information, dominated by total administrative control, filtering it "up the right chain," and actively discrediting psychologists who are seen as inconvenient. Manipulations, setups, and efforts to undermine credibility — it’s the same model I witnessed back in the Soviet cadet years. The system continues to prioritize punishment and psychological pressure over encouragement and motivation. A soldier in the trench is often the most powerless when it comes to having their service recognized or receiving due payments (and if their commander can’t use them for PR — they remain invisible). Right now, the military system shows no signs of even basic efforts to uphold justice or protect service members from abuse by commanders. On the contrary, there's a prevailing belief that "the war will erase everything." There seems to be a confidence that war will simply write everything off. The personnel psychological support structure resembles more an Inquisition from the times of religious wars, hunting for "heretics". The draft law on military justice has still not been adopted (according to Military Law and Order Service officers). There is virtually no real system for protecting the rights of service members, apart from the illusion of complaint hotlines (access to civilian courts remains largely out of reach for a soldier). Apparently to save on legal staff, complaints are redirected back to the very units against whose commanders the complaints were filed — and the responses are drafted and signed by those same commanders. Just imagine the absurdity of such a system. And yet, under Ukrainian law on citizens' appeals, this is explicitly prohibited! Have we stopped being citizens of a country governed by the rule of law?
- Some readers might say the tone of this conversation – and your arguments – paints a grim picture of the state of psychological support in the Armed Forces. And that's understandable: we're discussing serious problems, and it would be dishonest to inject artificial optimism. Still, are there any people or structures in your professional field that genuinely give you hope? Who sets an example worth following?
- On the bright side, there’s been progress in how psychological assistance is organized in the Armed Forces. In some places, we now see more structured rehabilitation efforts for "burnt-out fighters" in sanatorium-like settings. Psychologists are sent from the military rear for a full month to work with them, and weekly online intervision sessions are held to share experiences and scale good practices to other psychologists. Military psychologists are now involved not just in identifying issues and providing immediate support, but also in longer-term therapeutic efforts.
There are also evolving approaches and updated requirements for military psychologists in documents issued by the Commander-in-Chief and the General Staff. A clear distinction is emerging between psychological support (former "MPS" (moral and political support) system) and psychological assistance (as provided by trained psychologists).
Psychologists are now less often pulled into inappropriate roles like conducting internal investigations. A separate, specially staffed unit is being set up at the brigade level to handle that. Military psychologists are increasingly being removed from the role of 'investigator' or other repressive functions (such as performing alcohol testing on troops), which had eroded trust within the units.
Yevhen Kuzmenko, Censor.NET
Photo: Yevhen Kuzmenko, archive of Vitalii Fisun
