On the front lines just outside Bakhmut, Ukraine, a 32-year-old commander of a Ukrainian artillery platoon rocked in the passenger seat of a beat-up Lada, while another soldier navigated the car in a dense forest, sometimes mowing. down the young trees. When they reached their destination, a small village less than two miles from the Russian lines, all that remained were ruined houses, their cracked roofs visible in the moonlight.
The commander, a female soldier who uses the call sign Witch, is a former lawyer who, along with two of her brothers and her mother, joined the military the day after Russia invaded in February 2022. his first combat experience was outdoors. of Kyiv that year, and much of what he’s learned about weapons systems since then has been self-taught and on the fly.
Since early 2023, Witch has been with his platoon in the 241st Brigade in the area around Bakhmut, overseeing all artillery systems. He was determined to stay in the military even after the war. “People who want to join the armed forces should understand that this is a way of life,” he said.
As Ukraine struggles against heavy Russian attacks and its losses mount, women enlist in droves, and they increasingly volunteer for combat duty. The Ukrainian military has also made a concerted effort to hire more women to fill its ranks.
About 65,000 women currently serve in the Ukrainian Armed Forces, about a 30 percent increase since the war began. About 45,000 serve as military personnel, and the rest hold civilian positions, according to the Defense Ministry of Defense. Just over 4,000 were in combat positions.
Unlike for Ukrainian men, there is no mandatory draft for women; however, women with medical or pharmaceutical degrees must register for the service.
These women fill a growing number of military positions: combat medics in assault units; senior gunners; snipers; commanders of tank units and artillery batteries; and even a co-pilot in a medevac team who dreams of becoming Ukraine’s first female helicopter combat pilot. Dozens were wounded in the fighting, and some were killed or captured.
Along the front line, they operate under the same blanket of fear and hardship as male soldiers. In the dank, fortified shelter where Witch and one of her mortar teams spent most of their days, they waited in near darkness in the basement. Having the lights on meant the crew couldn’t quickly adjust their eyes in the dark if they had to go out and fire.
Far to the north, a commander with the call sign Tesla, a former Ukrainian folk singer, sits hunched over a stool in the bare house that serves as field headquarters for the 32nd Mechanized Brigade. Russian forces in the Kupiansk region are sending artillery barrages raining down on Ukrainian lines.
Tesla simultaneously sends texts and voice notes to the soldiers in his unit while talking to the second in command about the battlefield plan. His oversized pants were rolled up, revealing neon orange socks with a cartoon avocado on them.
He was trying to redirect Russian fire to another battalion in the position of his own soldiers, so that the other unit could evacuate a badly wounded comrade. “Three tourniquets on three different legs,” came the information in a voice message, he said.
“Send one more,” Tesla ordered through a voice note, ordering his soldiers to fire again. “When you finish, inform me.”
Shortly after a Russian offensive began in October, overwhelming the Ukrainian lines, 24 of his artillery-trained soldiers were ordered to reinforce the infantry troops, who were always located near the Russian lines. Tesla spoke to them before deploying them, feeling helpless.
“The worst thing was that I taught them completely different things in the artillery, and then they were sent to the infantry,” he said. “And, imagine, they’re standing there looking at you as their commander, knowing they’re going to be sent into the worst possible situation.”
Of the 24 sent, 15 were wounded, Tesla said, and one was captured in combat. The incident remained on Tesla’s conscience, but he kept his worries to himself. Her mother still did not know that Tesla was leading an artillery battery, thinking that her daughter was working as an instructor at an academy, a safe distance from the front.
Until 2018, women were prohibited from holding combat positions in the Ukrainian military, although some ignored the rules. Restrictions have been eased since the Russian invasion. The enlistment of thousands more female military service members was largely seen as a welcome step for the country, whose bids to join NATO and the European Union are still under review.
The downside is that the military cannot adapt quickly enough to accommodate them. Female soldiers say there is still a severe shortage of women’s fatigues and boots, proper body armor, and feminine hygiene products. That leaves women to get a lot of things on their own.
As a result, organizations like Veteranka and Zemliachky help fill the gap by raising money to provide items suitable for women.
But the problems go deeper, with issues of inequality and discrimination based on gender.
Many women who serve in combat roles say that male soldiers and direct superiors are largely gender-neutral — though there are still sexual innuendoes and inappropriate comments.
Instead, it is senior commanders, often holdovers from the Soviet era, who look down on women in the military, especially those on combat duty. In some cases, women choose to join newly formed brigades with younger, more dynamic commanders.
“I don’t want to join a brigade that was established many years ago because I know they won’t listen to me as a young officer, and as a woman,” said Tesla.
On one occasion, a brigade commander became so angry with a woman commanding an artillery battery that he directly belittled her. “You’re crawling back to me on your knees begging to leave when you realize the job is too hard, and I’m not going to let you leave your post,” she recalled him saying, requesting anonymity to speak openly about a sensitive topic.
Claims of sexual harassment have also surfaced. According to some women, there are no official channels for reporting harassment other than battalion commanders, who then have to decide whether to follow up. In some cases, female soldiers said, witnesses may refuse to testify for fear of repercussions.
Those obstacles, as well as the potential to damage their military careers, discourage women from reporting harassment, female soldiers say.
Diana Davitian, a spokeswoman for the Defense Ministry, said that on January 1, the military launched a hotline where soldiers can report sexual harassment. The reports will be investigated, he said, and steps will be taken if the accusations are found to be true.
The ministry also said it planned to create a separate unit dedicated to ensuring gender equality and providing educational programs, including one focused on combating war-related sexual violence.
Back in the basement, Tesla calls from the command post: Time to fire. The team rushed to a partially covered yard a few feet away where a mortar barrel was prepared.
Silence fell as Kuzya, 20, a senior gunner with the mortar platoon, looked through the scope and read the coordinates on his phone. “Fire!” someone called. A few more rounds were fired before the team returned to the basement, awaiting a potential comeback from the Russians.
Just a few months ago, Kuzya’s girlfriend was killed in battle. He and Witch, who has a 7-year-old son whom he has barely seen in the past year, seem to find solace in each other’s company. The two women trained at the same judo club in Kyiv, the capital, and the day after the raid, they went to the enlistment office together to sign up.
For many women, war and the desire to fight felt like something they had been preparing for for years. Foxy, 24, a former barista turned gunner and medic, volunteered to make camouflage nets after school throughout his teenage years, before he worked with wounded veterans. He joined the military last year after weeks of training.
His battalion commander gave him two choices: “You’re a woman. You can work on documents or cook borscht,” Foxy recalled. “I had no choice but to hold the papers until I moved battalion.”
He then became part of a mortar team in some of the fiercest battles on the front line in Bakhmut, and was considered an equal to his team. “While I faced some level of sexism early on,” she says, “I didn’t feel like I had to prove anything or convince anyone of what I could do.”
That’s a sentiment echoed by Kateryna, 21, a lieutenant and a pilot of an Mi-8 medical evacuation helicopter. Kateryna, who graduated from a military academy, has yet to fly her first medevac mission, but she hopes to become Ukraine’s first female combat pilot.
Ukrainian society is also gradually overcoming its skepticism towards women serving in the military. Today, it is up to a new generation of women and their allies who are also better placed to address discrimination and sexual harassment.
Evelina Riabenko contributed reporting.
