"You lose your sense of purpose after war. After everything at front, deliver pizza?" – Hero of Ukraine and war veteran Dmytro Finashyn
Why is it difficult for service members to find a job after returning home? Can veterans "sell" the skills they gained in the war to the criminal elements? How can one earn a living if they were blinded as a result of a combat injury? Who should help people living alone who are bedridden due to their wounds?
Dmytro is a former fighter of the Serhii Kulchytskyi Operational Battalion. He volunteered for service in 2015. He started in aerial reconnaissance and later became a sniper.
He met Russia’s full-scale invasion in Popasna, Luhansk region. Three months later, during a prolonged battle, he survived but was the only one left from his group, severely wounded. For two days, he crawled across the field, losing consciousness repeatedly and freezing at night until he was finally found.
Doctors were unable to save his arm, but after prosthetic surgery and rehabilitation, he returned to service, this time as a UAV data analyst.
Speaking about life after the front line, he says he came to work at the ministry for the second time, even though he didn’t like it the first time. Now he’s working to promote changes in veteran policy and motivate those who have already fought their war to keep living.
"THERE’S HARDLY ANY WORK FOR A RIFLEMAN AT THE FRONT NOW"
– Soldiers often say that what’s happening at the front and what they see in the rear cities are like parallel worlds. What happens when a person returns from the front to the world they once considered parallel?
– When you move from one world to another, what happens? You start learning. You recall how things work here, what rules apply. You’re a foreign body in this world. You either have to paddle against the current or try to adapt somehow and become part of it. It’s not an easy task.
– Do you also share the idea of parallel worlds?
– Not entirely. When I came back, I felt it quite sharply, especially during the first month. You walk around the city, and everything is quiet. Yes, rockets hit occasionally, but I mean generally, this isn’t the front line. You want to ask: "How do you live your peaceful lives here?" Though I passed that stage long ago, the "why are they sitting in cafés?" phase. I realized clearly that everyone has their own carrot to chew. I fight, while others do something useful and live their own lives in parallel. You can’t be judgmental; if someone is in the trench and can’t have a cup of coffee, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t either. I outgrew that mindset long ago. Many service members do. But overall, it was still hard to process. You see the scale of the tragedy at the front, in frontline cities and villages, and then you realize that people here live and think differently. But over time, I got used to it. When I was discharged from the hospital and walking down the street with my wife, I told her: "Listen, it’s been only 20 days, and I’ve already stopped feeling like there’s a war in the country."
– Doesn’t that remind you of the early years of the war, when the Anti-Terrorist Operation in Donbas was underway and some civilians told soldiers, "If you want to fight, go fight, it’s not my concern"?
– I had an episode in 2016 that I still remember. I was sent on a recruitment campaign, a big truck, patriotic music, banners, and brochures. I was handing them out, urging people to join the National Guard. This was in the Boryspil district, Kyiv region.
Then a man came up to me, a heavy alcoholic, completely wasted. He asked, "Guys, has the war started?" I said, "The war’s been going on for years; it started back in 2014." He replied, "Oh, that’s not a real war. I thought they’d mobilize everyone if it were a war-war."
Okay, not the most educated or responsible member of society. But that phrase, "not a real war", stuck with me. You don’t hear that much anymore, though sometimes similar things still pop up on social media. But now there’s something else, like, "You’re fighting? Fine, go fight. That’s your problem."
– I don’t understand that. While some are fighting out there, others are living their lives here. If you can’t fight — donate. There can’t be parallel worlds when your country is being destroyed.
– But those two worlds will still exist. There won’t be collective unity. Yes, at the start of the full-scale invasion, when everyone was in emotional shock, many people wanted to help. But people get tired, they lose faith. And a certain percentage just doesn’t care. I can’t say I take it calmly, but I do understand, you can’t avoid or fix it. And probably no country ever could.
To change that, society would have to be prepared, united around something bigger.
– What could that be, in your view?
– What idea could be more powerful than the existence of your country? Teach people to love it, value it and fight for it.
– I watched your wife’s interview, and she talked about how your service began in 2015, and that your first unit was responsible for public security, including during protests. And as I understood from her story, you didn't like that service. Can you explain what made you leave?
– At that time, there wasn’t enough military, combat training. I imagined wartime military service a bit differently than what it actually was then, although I understood that the unit’s profile was different.
Plus, the workload was huge. Constant rallies. You almost don’t live at home. You come back, your wife is already asleep; you leave for work, she’s still asleep. There were times when I’d come home, eat at night, and go straight back to duty. Winter or summer, it was the same, you sit on a bus or stand outside. That’s how your youth passes.
I lost faith in that kind of service and decided I’d leave after my contract ended. But then I met the guys from the Kulchytskyi Battalion and transferred there. The unit was formed from Maidan volunteers. I liked it there because they’d been fighting since 2014. The unit was never withdrawn from the east. Everyone was committed, patriotic.
– You started there in aerial reconnaissance, did you?
– Once, I went to see the guys and was given an interesting task: we needed to project images from a quadcopter onto a screen to show the senior officers, and I figured out how to do it, which wasn’t easy back then.
At first, they watched me closely, and I cautiously mentioned that I was thinking about transferring in. Later, they told me, "Oh, you think outside the box, let’s take you into the special operations company without intermediate steps."
So on my first rotation, I went as a UAV reconnaissance operator. It was observing. I was on the second line, at the position closest to the fighting. They sat me there on purpose so I could hear the "incoming" up close and everything else, to see how I behaved and reacted.
When I returned from that rotation, they said: "Our aerial reconnaissance platoon sergeant is leaving. Will you go train to take the post?" I wasn’t eager, I’d studied at that institution before and didn’t like it. When I left, I’d said I’d never come back. But I didn’t argue — I went to train. Once I got the certificate, I became the platoon sergeant and deployed to combat right away.
– Was it in the Luhansk or Donetsk region?
– First, it was the Donetsk sector, the settlement of Shumy, near Horlivka. Then we started moving around. We never stayed long anywhere, we went where we were needed.
Later, I decided I wanted to be a sniper. I studied the theory of optics and other materials.
– I often talk to service members, including UAV operators. They’re constantly on the move. Snipers, by contrast, are about long waits and discipline. Where is there more adrenaline?
– Back then, it was situational. When the moment comes and you spot movement, you settle behind the rifle, the adrenaline spikes, your heart is about to "jump out". And you have to do everything carefully and not miss. Because after the first shot, you might have to forget about that area for months. No one will show themselves there at all.
UAVs are interesting in their own way, for example, when you adjust mortar fire.
– Was the enemy already actively using reconnaissance drones then, or weren’t they in large numbers yet?
– They were used actively. And the first drops were katsaps. For example, later, during the so-called "ceasefire," we were in Shumy. Every night katsap drones would come and drop antipersonnel mines onto our positions. And they took my drone away and said I could enter the position only with a Kalashnikov so as not to violate the ceasefire conditions. No one was to carry rifles or machine guns, only assault rifles were allowed. Meanwhile, they were tossing mines under our dugouts. Fair?
There were also videos of enemy sniper teams coming in with anti-drone rifles. They used counter-sniper systems and optics detectors as well.
– The full-scale war found you in Popasna, Luhansk region. What was the overall situation there at the time?
– Unclear. We were building positions and preparing to defend the city. If a column came in, we would have had to stop it somehow, at least buy time.
We stayed there for a few days, then were ordered to pull out. We fell back to Sloviansk and carried out the missions we were assigned. We also helped other units that asked us to fly a Mavic UAV to see whether the enemy was conducting reconnaissance or emplacing pontoon bridges.
Our first contact with the enemy was on 11 March. We were holding a dam, and the Russians were assaulting it. It was the only place they could cross the Oskil River with a large column, since all the bridges had been blown by then. But the assault failed.
– They couldn't get through, could they?
– No, we were prepared. We laid mines, and some of their vehicles hit them and blew up. Then we engaged them with mortars and artillery. Before that we had brought in a huge crane and blocked the road with concrete blocks.
They realized they wouldn’t force their vehicles through quickly and started milling around. That’s when our guys began hitting them hard, while the Special Operations Forces (SOF) fired them with NLAW anti-tank missile systems.
It wasn’t just our unit there, several others too, plus a few local Territorial Defense men.
The Russians weren’t very bold then, mostly unseasoned. We, meanwhile, had already formed a pretty capable team.
In the end, the Russians began to flee, and we chased them along the river.
– If the first groups you encountered weren’t very bold and lacked combat experience, when did you encounter more aggressive, persistent ones?
– It depended on the unit and the sector. For example, in the Lyman district, several groups moved through the forest and engaged us, we had WIA. They also tried to assault us actively near Kreminna. But once they felt solid resistance, the Russians stalled.
In the episode where I was wounded, though, the guys were reckless. Our guys opened heavy fire and engaged their machine gunner who was hammering us, yet he kept firing and didn’t take cover. What’s more, they closed the distance, trying to get in close and storm our position. Contact with their main group got down to about 30 meters, they’d crept through the woods from roughly 200 meters out. In other words, they didn’t dig in; they kept pushing forward.
– What came after Sloviansk?
– We relocated to the Kharkiv region, then back to the Donetsk region.
– In the Kharkiv region, were you still doing UAV reconnaissance, or were you serving as a sniper by then?
– It varied. Mostly, I flew. But I moved with a rifle, and I always had a UAV in my pack. If needed, I’d throw it up quickly, map what was happening, and we’d plan our next steps. We worked alongside guys from the 73rd Regiment, at the time they had neither a sniper rifle nor a UAV, and I had both. My buddy and I would go out together, each with a rifle. That’s roughly how it worked.
Later, we picked up captured Kalashnikovs, and I was carrying three weapons: two rifles (one for daytime and another with a thermal scope for night) plus a Kalash for treelines and everything else. And I always had a UAV. When needed, I flew. It’s far more effective. On the battlefield, you have to be versatile, know your unit’s weapons, and be able to use them. If someone drops out, you need to be able to fill their role.
– Can a sniper work from anywhere, or do you need specific conditions?
– You need line of sight. And, of course, safety is crucial, if you get killed quickly, you’re no use to anyone. Your task is to survive and inflict losses on the enemy.
– One sniper told me he had to relearn math when he decided to take up the specialty. Did you have to study it too, or did you already know it well?
– If you have the right technical kit, you don’t need to crunch everything in a notebook, you can use a laser rangefinder. It will give you the distance to within a meter. Or take a handheld weather station, it can serve as a ballistic calculator, factoring air temperature, humidity, pressure, and even wind into your firing solution.
– Can you name three must-have qualities for someone choosing this specialty?
– Stress resistance, patience and intelligence. You need to serve first and see whether it’s for you. Spend time as an infantryman, as a reconnaissance soldier, and then it will become clear whether this is your calling. Because it sounds good, it looks cool, but in most cases, people don't need it. Now, for example, many skilled snipers have become strike drone operators.
I went into sniping because it gave me a chance to bring the enemy down. I understood that at the distances we had before the full-scale invasion, the closest you’d get at best was about 80 meters, but mostly a minimum of 400. You won’t reach an enemy with an assault rifle at those ranges. With a rifle, you can engage out to 1.5 kilometers, if your skills and equipment allow. Now there’s hardly any work for a rifle at the front: drone "carousels" are constantly overhead, they see everything, and everyone hides from them. Reaching a position covertly, setting up, and waiting for the enemy is nearly impossible.
"YOU CAN'T SAY EVERYONE WILL END UP IN CRIME, THAT WON'T HAPPEN"
– There's a certain movie-style image of a sniper who, after returning to civilian life, might offer his services to criminal gangs and become a hired killer. I don't know how realistic that is. Do law-enforcement agencies discuss this as a potential risk?
– Global experience shows those risks exist and such cases will occur, these are specialised skills a person already has. But you have to look more broadly and talk not just about snipers, but about veterans in general.
You can't say everyone will rush into crime, that won't happen. I once sat down and analysed what you lose after the war.
– For example?
– You lose a sense of purpose. In war you're fighting for something big; you have a goal and you're involved in ensuring your country's survival.
You come home and that sense is gone. You don't know what to do. Be a Glovo courier like before the war, or do something else. You don't want to go back to that — it's no longer interesting. After everything you've seen at the front, deliver pizza?
Add to that an addiction to adrenaline. The front supplied plenty of it; when you return everything is flat and dull.
Of course, you might try alcohol. But that's a losing road that ends badly.
And one more thing — money. At war you had enough. Your family and everyone used to your earnings got used to a certain standard of living. If you earned 10,000 hryvnias before the war, then jumped to 120,000, and on return you're offered your old job at 10,000, you refuse.
We encounter cases where veterans won't accept such wages. In reality the person got by on that amount in civilian life and doesn't know how to earn more. Yes, he learned to fight, gained certain skills, but applying them is difficult. So what do we end up with: no money. No brotherhood either — some of your comrades died, some are still fighting, and others are in hospitals. And you're alone. What can you do? Go out and socialise with civilians? You won't. For now they feel like people from another world.
So you have no purpose, no money, no brotherhood. And then bad actors can appear offering brotherhood, money, women, cars, the whole cinematic package. In other words, you get almost everything except meaning.
– I get why someone might go down that route. But why not go into crime?
– That’s a matter of your worldview. First of all, it’s inherently activity against the state. And I’m sure the vast majority will still think: damn, I fought for this country and was ready to give everything. They won’t want to harm the country.
You could have died on the front for this state, for the benefits it provides, and for the society you’ll live in, so it would be illogical and stupid to act against that society. No, decent veterans will not do that.
But a veteran must not feel abandoned or forgotten. Since I joined in 2015, I’ve heard the saying: "The motherland won’t forget you, but it also won’t remember you." I get what people mean. Although the state is trying to improve, often if you fall off the radar, you’re left to flounder. If you’re lucky, someone might throw you a lifeline. If not, the saying goes that "if you're drowning, you're on your own." That shouldn’t happen. A veteran must not be forgotten. If we forget him, it’s a road to nowhere. A veteran, after all, is a first-tier mobilization reserve, people with combat experience. You’d want someone who may be needed again to defend the country to be physically and mentally healthy, provided for, in good spirits and loyal to the state. So they’re motivated to help society, rather than saying they were abandoned once and won’t fall for it again.
– When you were offered the position of Adviser to the Minister of Internal Affairs on Veteran Policy, did you have the impression that it was done merely for show, to make it look significant and presentable, so everyone could say that a Hero of Ukraine is "taking care of veterans"?
– The offer came unexpectedly. I spoke with a person I highly trust, someone I knew to be honest and decent. This person explained the challenges and requirements for someone working in this field, saying that veteran policy is a priority for the Minister, which is why he wanted an adviser dedicated to it.
I said I couldn’t recommend anyone for the position at the time, and they replied: "That’s because we’re offering it to you." They also asked if I was ready to leave military service for this work.
– Did you agree right away?
– I took a short pause to think. I was fully satisfied with what I was doing in the National Guard.
I had previously worked at the Ministry and tried to do something good from the bottom up. I know how hard it is when you fall "overboard," especially when service has been the meaning of your life. But that time, I didn’t like it. Still, I thought it was worth trying again, maybe I could approach things differently and influence the issues that hadn’t been resolved. I spoke with the Minister, and he explained his perspective. I saw that he was genuinely committed, that it was truly a priority for him. I was pleasantly surprised because, at first, I had been skeptical. But I saw that he genuinely cares about veterans, in many senses. First, out of gratitude. Second, out of concern for security. And third, because his own son is not sitting out the war somewhere; he serves. I know, not from him, that his son serves honorably, and the father can be proud of him.
Now, when I come forward with a good idea, I’m heard, supported, and helped. Yes, it’s a difficult area, but we’re moving forward.
– I’ve already heard from your colleagues that veterans who fought in the brigades of the National Guard, the State Border Guard Service, or the National Police can continue working within the system after returning from the front. But in February 2022, many civilians volunteered to join the fight. There are quite a few such people in units under the Ministry of Internal Affairs. When they are demobilized, they don’t always want to remain in the system. And not all of them can return to their previous jobs or businesses that existed before the full-scale invasion. Do you also work with such veterans?
– Absolutely. The first step is communication. We need to talk to people to make them understand they haven’t been forgotten. But we are limited by employment relations, as long as a person remains employed, they will be supported. Beyond that, we have a problem. That’s why a full chain of officials responsible for veteran policy is now being established in the regions. We’re conducting an audit to find out where those who have left the service are, what condition they’re in, and whether they need help with employment.
We want to establish communication in such a way that every person knows there’s someone, a man or a woman, in their region whom they can call for advice or assistance. It’s equally important that this person also calls the veteran at least once a month and says: "Hey, how are you doing? We’re getting together by the river this weekend. Want to join? We’ll play some volleyball, throw a frisbee. Bring your family, let’s have a good time together." They could also offer free access to a gym with a trainer, share information about regional opportunities, or help when the veteran’s rights are clearly violated. These are our local coordinators.
– Veterans often struggle to find employment. Some employers worry they’ll take too many sick leaves, others are uncomfortable hiring people who returned from captivity and endured trauma. Excuses abound. In your opinion, what needs to be done to make veteran employment a trend?
– The state is moving in that direction now. But globally, what you said brings us back to the beginning of the conversation. Even if you tell everyone they need to fight, someone will still say, "That’s not for me." The same here. "Why do I need the trouble? I can find other employees." People must understand that the well-being and fair treatment of veterans directly affects the safety of our state and our streets. A veteran is, first and foremost, a defender, someone who will stand up in any situation. Employment helps them stay fulfilled and integrated, not thinking about how to buy a school backpack for their child. Work gives a person the means to live a normal, secure life.
– I’d look at it from the opposite side. Veterans are people with leadership skills, who’ve learned to handle extremely complex situations. Many of them are truly exceptional specialists. But somehow, no one communicates that.
– We do communicate it. We’re shouting everywhere: "Guys, come! Let’s get you employed." But right now, not many are coming. Some just want to live for themselves for a while. Others don’t want to work for the state again.
– They don’t want to come back and wear the uniform again?
–Not only that. Of course, first and foremost, we invite them back into the system, into the security sector. Some do return, especially the motivated ones, even those who are wounded. For them, staying connected to the defense sphere is extremely important. But there are also those who say, "Thanks, I’ve already served my time." We suggest, "Come take a civilian position. The salaries aren’t as high as in uniform, but it’s still a decent job." Not everyone is interested.
We have a huge problem with education. To work in the civil service, you need higher education and not all veterans have it.
Some say, "Fine, I’ll join. Do you have a position as a department head?" We ask what they did before the war, turns out, they had no civil service or management experience. Another one says he wants to be a leader because he "likes being in charge." But during his military service, he was a private. We ask, "Maybe you were an informal leader?" He replies, "No, I just don’t like being told what to do. I often think the task was set wrong, I’d do it differently. So I don’t take orders well." What can you do in such cases?
And there are also those who see no point in working at all. They just want to lie on the couch and stare at the ceiling. I’ve had that myself before. Now there’s no time for it (he smiles – ed.). It was when I was already serving under mobilization and everything seemed fine. Then I took a psychological test launched by our ministry — it showed that I had mild depression, not just the desire to lie down and stare at the ceiling.
– There’s another issue I’d like to raise. A charity that had been looking after a serviceman reached out to us. The young man had sustained a through-and-through head injury and was in a vegetative state. A relative placed him in a private rehabilitation center where he received necessary care, but she paid only for a few months and then disappeared. He ended up with no one to care for him. Do you see such solitary cases after severe wounds?
– We have guys with spinal injuries who are bedridden. There are cases where relatives refuse to help. A mother might say she wants no part in it because she has a new husband and he tells the son, "You’re on your own." A sister may say, "I have my own life, a husband and children. Where am I supposed to take you?" And the country has no veterans’ homes where such men would receive lifelong care.
– What should be done?
– This must be addressed at the state level: create facilities where they will be cared for. The state is working on it, and we expect results soon.
– But no one knows when that will happen. How are they supposed to live now?
– Right now, such situations are being resolved on a case-by-case basis, depending on the empathy of individuals who can somehow influence the situation. In this case, the young man is being taken care of, and he can already move around a little in a wheelchair. We persuaded his sister and helped her equip their flat to make it inclusive. She took him in.
– Among veterans, including those from the National Guard, I’ve met people who completely lost their sight due to combat injuries. Can such people find work within the Ministry of Internal Affairs system?
– The Ministry oversees the state-owned enterprise INFOTECH, which maintains websites, digital resources, and so on. There is a blind employee there now, a veteran of the National Guard of Ukraine. He works remotely from home, processes audio submissions, and enters data into an Excel spreadsheet, having mastered working with a PC.
Employment is one of our priorities. But it starts with treatment after the injury, rehabilitation, and sessions with psychologists to bring a person to a stable mental state so they at least want to continue an active life. And it’s very important that our staff member, the one I mentioned earlier, stays in constant contact with the veteran. He’ll see men with high lower-limb amputations playing volleyball and leading active lives, and at minimum, he’ll realize that life does not end with his injury. The barriers are primarily in his mind, and he needs to find ways to overcome specific difficulties. He must understand that his life didn’t end with treatment and won’t end when the war ends. If he’s ready to live on, we should give him a fishing rod so he can catch fish. Showering him with benefits and leaving him at home is not the path a warrior needs, even after leaving the service.
Tetiana Bodnia, Censor.NET
