"...Chechens approached from rear, shouting ’We’re friendlies!’ But my brother-in-arms didn’t buy it: "Friendlies, my foot — you’re wearing red tape!"- platoon commander of NGU, call sign Levi
…Svitozar Zaiats joined the war at the age of 23. His very first combat experience proved that the National Guard was lucky to have the young railway worker: a cool head, no trace of panic, and natural leadership made Svitozar an effective soldier and later, a platoon commander. Once again, war revealed who among men is best suited to operate under its harsh laws…
Today, Levi is a seasoned veteran of this war. He has completed rotations in the Serebrianskyi Forest, taken part in assault operations in the Luhansk region, and endured grueling defense in the Pokrovsk direction. So when we sat down for an interview with Censor.NET, there was plenty to talk about....
– On the front line, a person begins with a call sign. Yours is linked to a character from Japanese anime, which makes me doubt your company commander came up with it. Why Levi Ackerman from "Attack on Titan"?
– Because he’s a character who stands to defend his country, one suffering genocide and under constant attacks from a neighboring state…
The idea for the call sign came to me back in 2023, when we were holding the line in the Serebrianskyi Forest together with the Azov Brigade. There were a lot of parallels between that character and our world. There is also a large neighboring state that hates its smaller neighbors and constantly tries to wipe out their people. That really resonated with our own story.
And there’s another layer to the call sign. At one point, I became interested in Israeli intelligence, the Mossad. There was an operative there with the call sign Yan Levi. (The book doesn’t clarify whether that was his real name or a cover.) Their work inspired me, because they operated for the good of their country. Their methods and approach were a real eye-opener for me. So the call sign is partly a nod to Japanese subculture and partly to the Mossad...
– At the start of the full-scale invasion, you were working as an assistant train driver. What were your thoughts about the future in those first days? Did you see a fork in the road, a choice to make about your life?
– There was no fork. I had about a day to make the decision. That day was full of chaotic thoughts, because I couldn’t believe that in the 21st century, someone would launch a full-scale war against us. But the decision itself was clear. I was a young guy, 23 at the time. I had arms and legs, and I was capable of fighting. I had done my compulsory service in the Border Guard, so I had some military background. I could handle a weapon and knew how to use it. I understood that I could be more useful defending the country than sitting in the rear. There are people, colleagues of mine, about whom I understood: this guy won't be able to go to war, but I can. He can take my place at work, and I can be of greater use defending the country…
– Where did they send you at the military enlistment office?
– It’s funny, when the war started, I thought that once I got to the enlistment office, they’d hand me a rifle, put me on a bus and straight to the zero line. That’s literally how I imagined it. I had my old conscript uniform, a small backpack, some food, a little money, cigarettes — ready for war…
But it turned out it works a bit differently. I arrived and they trained me. Three days of preparation at the National Guard unit in Zolochiv. After that, they sent us to Chernivtsi. That’s where our company was; we worked on restoring the territory where we are now stationed. Training and constant drills lasted 3 to 4 months. Only after that did we start combat missions. Since I don’t have a higher education, I started as a regular rifleman. Now, I’m the commander of the first platoon of the combat company.
– Your first two rotations were in the Serebrianskyi Forest. There were many there, and everyone remembers their rotations. The sniper with the call sign Chub told me about his experience in Serebriansky Forest: "It was good at the beginning, right after we arrived. We still had motivation and strength. The enemy then… I wouldn’t say they were completely weak, but regular units faced us. Not elite. They behaved rather carelessly… Things got worse when the newly formed Russian 25th Army arrived. They were well-equipped, trained, and began to gradually push us out."
Do your memories of Serebriansky Forest overlap with his?
– I was in the 24th, came for a short time. It was quiet then. I don’t know when exactly your sniper was there. We arrived in the summer of 2023. I can’t say what unit was opposite us. I know convicts were being used there, as cannon fodder to expose our positions, followed by more trained assault units. It was truly terrifying, an incredibly tough baptism by fire. Summer, sand, and relentless mortar fire, along with constant attempts to storm our positions. There was no parity in drones back then like we have now. When we arrived, they had a huge number of mortars. On our axis, the shelling was nearly nonstop. They were firing on our four positions with up to ten tubes—consistently, sometimes for days on end. That’s when I understood why artillerymen are called the gods of war, though the ones facing us were devils.
Sometimes there was a lull, usually after a massive assault, and they traditionally planned massive assaults on the 19th. After that, there was a certain lull while the enemy was restoring its forces and ammunition.
In my opinion, the fighting in the Serebrianskyi forest was very different from the other areas where we had been.
– What exactly made it different?
– The American Institute for the Study of War recognized forest fighting as the most difficult. A forest means unclear defensive lines, unpredictable maneuvers. Reaching your position is extremely difficult, there always has to be a guide, someone who knows the way. Plus, the forest on our side had been heavily torn down by the enemy. They’d shattered it, and to get through, we had to make our way through masses of fallen trees (it’s an old, thick forest). That alone slowed everything down. Add to that the sand, which made movement much harder. Summer, heat, sand. And you couldn’t properly dig in, everything would just collapse. Meanwhile, the enemy pounded our positions with brutal artillery strikes. The very fact that we held our ground there is a testament to human heroism and competent command. That forestry area was a strategically important point for the enemy, controlling the forest enabled logistics for their advance toward Kreminna, Sloviansk, and Kramatorsk. The enemy forces deployed there were appropriate to the task. I’ve already mentioned the massive amount of artillery, and that was one of the key factors. Tanks, and in some cases even aircraft with guided aerial bombs (GABs), struck directly at our positions. And the key thing for me as an infantryman was the large number of enemy troops constantly pushing forward, probing our positions with cannon fodder. At night, if you took out a few, the enemy roughly figured out where we were, and then blindly shelled the area while others slipped closer. Usually, that fodder was made up of convicts sent straight from prison.
There was one situation when we had dug in pretty seriously. We had time and opportunity to reinforce our position, dig proper trenches. That’s when the Russians responded. They were a bit cocky, and after we dug in, we heard on our radio (either they hacked it or found it): "That’s not how you do it, khokhols." Four hours of shelling later, everything we’d dug was leveled to the ground.
During rotation in the Serebriansky Forest, Levi and his comrades had to do a lot of digging.
– So, over the course of two rotations in Serebriansky Forest, you mastered at least two adjacent skills at an excellent level. Namely, how to dig in properly, plus lumberjack skills, because how else do you clear a path through fallen trees?
– And probably sprinter skills too, because running through the forest is tough. When we moved into positions, we expected to stay for quite some time, so we brought a lot of gear with us. It turned out I could run pretty well on sand carrying a heavy load on my back. By the way, that really helps—physical fitness improves…
– Was that your first rotation in Serebrianskyi Forest?
– Yes, the first one, we arrived in summer and held our defensive line. Although we had to retreat under enemy pressure from part of the forest. We had to give it up because the enemy deployed a lot of equipment, including aviation. Still, we behaved with honor thanks to competent command. At that time, we were subordinated to the 50th National Guard Regiment and a commander with the call sign Price. The man led the personnel so skillfully that everyone under his command fully trusted him.
– Can you give an example of that skillful leadership?
– There was a situation when a tank was approaching, and the guys were literally begging to run out and eliminate it. He kept forbidding it. Later, it turned out there were two more tanks following that one. Thanks to that restraint, all three enemy tanks were eventually eliminated. We were an attached unit, and Price had to get to know us on the job. That fact alone is proof of the professionalism of commanders like him.
– And those brazen convicts who were against you — did you ever capture any of them?
– There’s a funny story. This was during our second rotation, we were holding positions with Azov, arranged in a semicircle. Somehow, the enemy managed to get inside that semicircle, and stayed there. When the guys went to check, they saw a body standing under a tree. They asked, "Who are you?" — "I’m Russian." They took him prisoner. We called him what we always call the enemy—a b**tard. At one point, they told him, "Move it, b*stard." To which he replied, "I’m not a b**tard, I’m actually an honest prisoner…"
– Wow!
– I was surprised by such audacity. I asked, "And what do you call us?" — "B**tards…"
– At what point did you become a platoon commander? And generally, what personal qualities allow people like you, who seemingly had no prior military experience, to rise through the ranks in war?
– Literally on my very first combat sortie, I realized I was holding up well in the war. Before the operation, a friend of mine from the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade, who already had experience, gave me one piece of advice that I drilled into my head and continue to pass on to everyone. The advice was: keep a cool head. When I first arrived at the position, another young comrade came with me. We had two neighboring observation posts about 10 meters apart. There was one soldier from the Vinnytsia National Guard Brigade in his position, and me in mine. That is, an experienced man alongside a rookie. And my brother-in-arms, who was motivated when we took up our positions, started crying, saying he thought he was going to die. Meanwhile, in a nearby dugout, I remembered the words of my friend—and realized there was no point in being afraid anymore. It was too late to be afraid! I always tell the guys: once you arrive at war, it’s too late to fear being killed… At that moment, I understood I was holding myself together quite well. From then on, I simply wasn’t afraid; at least, I didn’t panic and was able to make decisions in critical situations. That proved beneficial. When my comrades found out, they started talking about it—"He’s holding it together, well done." That’s when the command began to notice they could rely on me. And I realized for myself that, basically, I was in control. Though in civilian life I’m quite hot-headed, in the zone of responsibility it’s the opposite.
– And did these facts affect the command’s trust in you?
– Yes. However, I didn’t rise through the ranks. In our unit, it was never accepted to climb over others’ heads, like demanding ranks or positions, saying, "I want to be a major general." That just doesn’t happen—everyone performs their tasks, everyone works. Less familiarity, more trust and understanding. This approach always works in your favor. Because there’s a problem in our army: under command, soldiers stop thinking. "Why bother? There’s a commander." And they become uninitiative. In my unit, things were built a bit differently. People relied on their own experience, their own understanding, and the trust of their comrades. That worked to my benefit. Because after the second rotation in Serebriansky Forest, I transferred to a newly formed unit within our own military formation that deployed on combat missions for unit rotations. I moved there also as a rifleman. We deployed to Stelmakhivka in the Luhansk region. Intense fighting began. Stelmakhivka was an important point for the enemy because, in our sector, it was the last village in the Luhansk region not under Russian control. Beyond it started Kharkiv region. And we held that very frontline.
– Did your unit take part in assault operations there?
– Yes. That’s how it all started. I led the assault group, even though officially there was a squad leader from my platoon assigned. But in practice, I was the one directing the fight during the operation.
The assault operations, unfortunately, were unsuccessful. My comrade and I managed to break into the enemy’s trench. I even cleared part of it. However, at the entrance remained a heavily fortified enemy dugout. Additionally, it turned out the reconnaissance had failed, and where there were supposed to be up to six men in a normal staffing setup, the reality was different.
In the end, we took casualties. They were all WIA, but serious ones. One guy took an FPV drone right at his feet. We had seven wounded in total. In reality, it was just me and two comrades handling the evacuation. Plus, a guy from an adjacent unit ran over to help—purely on willpower and guts. Enemy drones hit us hard. AGS and drones… they targeted us with precision. It was a line of AGS fire, then a line of drone strikes,all along our withdrawal route. As it turned out, six hours later the enemy was planning an assault. On top of that, we were heavily hit by enemy drones. AGSs and drones…
And as we were pulling back, one of our guys was wounded in the leg. He was the closest to enemy positions, and I understood that if we left him there now, we simply wouldn’t have the physical ability to evacuate him later. Lastivka, the commander of the third platoon in my company, though at that time still a private, managed to get out on his own despite a leg wound. He understood there was no time to help him, there were others who needed attention more. A real man’s man. And along the way, he took additional shrapnel to the other leg. But he just said, "Guys, I’m good, focus on the evac." He helped however he could.
Later, there was another situation, three Chechens infiltrated one of my other positions. It was just me and two comrades holding it. The Chechens shouted "Akhmat – power!" at us from across the trench.
– We’ll come back to that. But what happened to the wounded guy who was closest to the enemy?
– His call sign was Chuzhyi. I went back for him because I knew that a guy lying alone, so close to enemy positions, with everyone else having pulled back and unable to walk, could end up hurting himself. A person can lose hope, start thinking he’s going to be captured. Plus, it was his first sortie. I realized he might shoot himself right there. I couldn’t let that happen. So I helped with the evac to the tree line—and then went back for Chuzhyi.
– Did the guy survive?
- He did. A month later, he sent me regards from the hospital. Unfortunately, they had to amputate his leg due to tourniquet syndrome. He had been lying there for a long time, up to six hours waiting for evac. Later he told me: "Thank you—if it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve shot myself."
– You mentioned the Chechens. What was it like fighting them?
–We had one battle with them. The Russians were pushing "meat" at us from 12 o’clock—just straight-up cannon fodder. My comrade and I started engaging them. Then the enemy mortar fire began, and the Chechens themselves came in from the rear. They used the meat to distract us in one direction, and when Bohdan and I took cover in a foxhole from the shelling, we suddenly heard the voice of our brother-in-arms. He was up on the hill laying down fire and yelling: "Come out! Come out! Russians are here!" I climbed out of the hole and heard him shout:"Friendlies, my foot — you’re wearing red tape!" The Chechens had come in with red tape across their chests. Since they came from the rear, knowing exactly where our rear was along the defensive line, they kept yelling: "We’re friendlies! Friendlies!" The trenches there were pretty short, around 12 meters long in total. What saved us was our comrade spotting them in time.
– What color was your tape?
– According to orders, we used yellow, while the enemy used red and white. Actually, I often hear the word ours and forbid my subordinates to shout anything in Russian, especially ours. I don’t accept it at all because most often the Russians shout ours. I always told them, "Ours stay at home." Although, as far as I know, on the Pokrovsk direction, their GRU even knows Ukrainian! They’re already learning the language, so our code words like "Ukrzaliznytsia" and "palyanytsia" won’t work the same way as at the war’s start.
– Svitozar, how do you cope when comrades become KIA or WIA? Do you blame yourself?
– It’s hard to get used to death. I’ve lost many friends during the war. Honestly, it weighs on me. Sometimes at night, I sit and remember one, then another, then a third comrade. But I don’t let myself fall morally, even when hearing about the loss of a very good person. Yes, a great warrior died. Yes, I’m in the battlefield, and it’s hard to hear that. But when I’m going to carry out combat missions, I have to forget about it and push aside my moral struggles. No matter how hard it is, I go to that position to take revenge on whoever caused the strike. Because if I sit and cry, destroy myself morally, it won’t help the cause. It’s better to remind the enemy that he came here himself and can die here. Take revenge on him. And then remember your comrades who gave their lives with good, bright memory. And do everything possible so their sacrifice wasn’t in vain.
– Your most recent rotation was on the Pokrovsk direction. There, assault operations were no longer conducted; you had to hold a tough defense. How long did that rotation last?
– For me, it was three months and a week. I went in with the first group as a platoon commander. I wasn’t just sitting on positions like infantry but was involved... in what we called "legs". It is the work of a guide who leads people to positions and brings them back. Mostly, we handled delivering provisions — food, water, and when needed, ammunition and medical supplies. I constantly moved from the second line to the zero line, staying with personnel directly on the front line. It was quite good and helpful for the troops, because it boosts morale when your commander shows up. Plus, I could somewhat control what they were doing, see how they were organizing their defense, digging trenches, and what tasks they were carrying out. I could go to the position, advise on what to do better, what not to do, and what should be done. Also, I served as a link between the zero line and the company command post. It’s one thing when commanders talk to soldiers via radio, and quite another when they come in person and see what’s missing. So it was more of a connecting manager’s job — making sure the guys had food and the commander knew what was going on.
– Did the guys make requests?
– They did. They asked, "Can we have some sunflower seeds, please?" or coffee. They even liked it (smiles). I told them, "I get it, guys, but let’s keep it modest — it’s still war, after all." Because soon the requests started sounding like, "Can I get some energy drinks, please? And write down what we want" (laughs).
On the other hand, speaking for myself, something similar happened in the Serebrianskyi Forest. For example, I can only drink instant coffee with condensed milk. Even in tough conditions, I’m like, "What is this, guys, instant coffee? Without condensed milk, I won’t drink it; I want brewed coffee!"
So when the guys get used to where they are, they start acting like that. It got to the point they said, "Hey, download a few movies onto my phone!" Well, people stay on positions for 30 days. When they’ve dug in and there’s no immediate threat, they can watch a movie.
– Svitozar, you’re now in your homeland awaiting your next rotation. Meanwhile, the enemy has made some advances on part of the Pokrovsk direction. Are you worried about your comrades fighting there?
– Yes, I am, especially since our own guys replaced us there. You know, when we returned here to Chernivtsi, people asked me if I would go back to the war. It wasn’t until the evening that I realized I had no answer to that question because the war is always on my mind! I sit, I lie down, with one thought: damn, what about the guys? Knowing the contact line and every position, you lie there thinking: what’s happening on that position? It never leaves you.
– Are enemy losses on the Pokrovsk direction really massive?
– Massive. I’m amazed at them. The Ukrainian army has certain principles. First and foremost is preserving the lives and health of personnel. My primary concern is for my people to stay alive and well; holding positions comes second. But I want my people to come back.
With the Russians, it’s the exact opposite. I’m already disgusted walking over their corpses. I see: corpse, corpse, corpse, corpse. You look and wonder: where do they keep coming from?! I don’t understand how Russians march over their own dead. They see their soldiers lying there! They pass by and die 10 meters further. I don’t know how much longer the Russians will fail to realize they’re being wiped out en masse on the Pokrovsk direction. Now, I hear they’re trying to modify tactics, approaching on scooters. Which is also strange. Because it’s a stupid idea that doesn’t work. Someone might try to convince me there are methods and tactics. But tactics and methods work when the plan works! Instead, earlier Russians died on foot, some on motorcycles. Now, they die on scooters. And the losses are huge! I’ve only seen such constant "meat " reconnaissance like this in Serebrianka in 2023, in summer. But back then they didn’t use drones as they do now. Even having drones, they still throw "meat" at it. For what? I don’t get it.
– Has Luhansk and Donetsk become familiar to you, a guy from Western Ukraine? Because among soldiers who fought there, opinions vary.
– You know, I’ve always supported Donetsk’s Shakhtar, even though I’m originally from Ternopil region. I dreamed of visiting the Donbas Arena; sometimes I’d think about it while on duty and say to myself, "Found something to think about — here’s Donetsk for you!"
But when we lived in Lyman, Donetsk region, my guys and I found a place to stay ourselves.It was a small house where we were stationed at our permanent deployment point (PDP). We lived there for half a year. When I left, I didn’t want to go back because it felt so familiar to me.
– What made it feel so familiar?
– I knew who I was and what I had to do. People at the store knew you. Three months after I left, I came back, and people still recognized me and asked, "Where have you been?" Donetsk became home; its air and the whole atmosphere were familiar. I always feel more at ease entering Sloviansk than Chernivtsi because in Chernivtsi I felt out of place.
– Why is that?
– There are civilians living there, and when I dressed in civilian clothes, I didn’t know if people were laughing at me or not. Like, did I dress properly? I had been wearing my uniform for a year, so I wasn’t sure. That’s why I wanted to go back to Donetsk, sometimes I still want to go. A friend explained it to me: it’s adrenaline and the war. Honestly, sometimes working in the rear, running around all day with paperwork, having a million things to do and not knowing what exactly you’re supposed to do. But there, in terms of military service, it was easier for me because I knew my task and could act freely.
– Do you have thoughts about what you will do after the war? Or do you dismiss them as inappropriate?
– Most of all, I thought about what I’d do after the war while on the front lines. You sit there with a lot of time and start planning. Over time, it gets a bit scary because for the last three years, all I’ve seen is war. In this field, I’ve reached the point where I can analyze enemy actions and even predict what they’ll do. So how can I use these skills in civilian life? I want to return to civilian life. I need to find something. I’ve been fighting for three years straight, and if I don’t want to go back to being a machinist, I have to learn from scratch, get a profession, find a job. Otherwise, I’ll have to return as a security guard like most do, because where else would you go with your military experience? To security. And that’s what scares me.
Yevhen Kuzmenko, Censor.NET
Photo: from the archive of Svitozar Zaiats
