On women’s mobilization
I’ve been thinking about women in the military, about the mobilization of women... And, of course, about myself. And I realized there are things I’ve never told anyone.
Because it’s shameful.
Because it’s awkward.
...and also — because it’s bad to speak ill of the dead.
But I’m alive, right?
There are three massive reasons why it’s hard to be a woman in the military.
1) Because you're looked down on by default. (The only exception so far is the unit I'm in now. In all other units, I've always been "second class," and I've constantly had to prove it, again and again...)
2) Because proving your physical capability is genuinely hard. Come on, I'm 55 kg and 1.55 m tall. It's tough. You do it, but you generally end up with fewer resources left than men do. (And I'm not talking about rear-echelon positions, as you've already figured out.)
I have plenty of examples of both points one and two, but I'll share those later. It's easy to talk about this stuff—who doesn't enjoy complaining?
3) You face harassment.
(R.A., That didn’t happen in your unit, don’t worry.)
And this turns or can turn your life (mine did, at times) into a war on two fronts.
What happened, and what I’ve never told anyone, absolutely no one?
– I had to sleep with a soldier. Because I was afraid he’d rape me otherwise. Maybe he would have. At that time, he had complete control over me. Or at least it felt that way.
(Later, my commander at the time found out, because that guy had been telling everyone, and tried to kill him. When he failed, he turned him into a pariah.)
– I had to console a soldier’s mother over the phone when she was told her son had been killed. A week earlier, he had tried to rape me. The commander (a different one) relocated him. (Not much of a punishment.)
– The worst part—because it lasted the longest—was the harassment by my commander (yet another one). It went on for a long time. He forbade issuing me a weapon. I started carrying pepper spray, a stun gun, and a knife—and avoiding any gatherings. He would spread filthy rumors about me and later threatened to kill me in combat because I wouldn't sleep with him. For many months, I lived in a state of deep disgust—toward the military in general and toward myself in particular. Because in that case, there was no one "above" to complain to.
And when he was finally removed from his post, that man still managed to poison my mood and peace of mind for a long time, deliberately trying to destroy my professional reputation.
…That’s what comes to mind first.
Just memories. Unpleasant and repulsive, yes—but nothing that broke my life.
I think every woman has her own chest full of filth.
But these memories, the experience behind them, form the basis of my civic stance:
a) Women’s mobilization is necessary. We have equal rights and equal responsibilities with men. And a drone controller is a lot lighter than an AK.
b) Women’s units should be separate.
As long as we remain who we are. Not yet civilization. No longer savages.
