The shame of Ukraine’s forgotten soldiers who ‘died the wrong way’

The article contains distressing details and references to suicide. Some names have been changed to protect identities.

Caterina always sheds tears when she talks about her son Oreste. Her voice shook with anger as she explained how she learned of his death in 2023 on the front lines in Ukraine’s Donetsk region.

According to the military’s official investigation, he died of a “self-inflicted wound,” leaving Catenia in disbelief.

Katerina asked that she and her late son remain anonymous due to the stigma surrounding suicide and mental health issues in Ukraine.

Orest is a quiet 25-year-old who loves books and dreams of an academic career. His mother said his poor eyesight made him initially unfit for service when the war began.

But in 2023, a recruitment patrol stopped him on the street. His eyesight was re-evaluated and he was deemed fit for combat. Soon after, he was sent to the front as a communications specialist.

While Ukraine collectively mourns the more than 45,000 troops it has lost since Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, a quieter tragedy is playing out in the shadows.

There are no official statistics on soldier suicide. Officials are calling the incidents isolated. However, human rights advocates and families of the deceased believe they could be in the hundreds.

“Oreste was arrested, not summoned,” Caterina said bitterly.

The local recruitment center denied wrongdoing to the BBC, saying impaired vision left Orest “partly healthy” during the war.

Katerina recalled that once deployed near Chasivyar in Donetsk, Orest became increasingly withdrawn and depressed.

She still writes to her son every day—650 and counting—and her grief is compounded by the fact that Ukraine classifies suicide as a non-combat loss. The families of those who committed suicide received no compensation, no military honors, and no public recognition.

“In Ukraine, it’s like we are divided,” Katarina said. “Some people die the right way and some people die the wrong way.”

“The state took my son, sent him to fight, and brought me back a body in a bag. That’s it. No help, no truth, nothing.”

For Mariana, who is from Kiev, the story is heartbreakingly similar. She also wishes to hide her identity and that of her late husband.

Her husband Anatoliy has volunteered to fight in 2022. He was initially rejected because of his lack of military experience, but he “kept coming back until they took him away,” she said with a smile.

Anatoly was deployed as a machine gunner near Bahmut in one of the bloodiest battles of the war.

“He said that after one mission, about 50 people were killed,” Mariana recalled. “He came back different; quiet; distant.”

After losing part of his arm, Anatoly was taken to the hospital. One night, after a phone call with his wife, he took his own life in the hospital yard.

“The war broke him,” she said through tears. “He couldn’t stand what he saw.”

Since Anatoly died by suicide, officials refused to give him a military funeral.

“When he was on the front lines, he was useful. But now he’s not a hero?”

Mariana felt betrayed: “The state threw me to the curb. I gave them my husband and they left me alone and with nothing.”

She also felt the shame of other widows.

Her only source of support is an online community of women like her – widows of soldiers who committed suicide.

They want the government to change the law so that families of the deceased have the same rights and recognition.

The Victoria we meet in Lviv still cannot speak publicly about her husband’s death for fear of being reprimanded.

Her husband Andrei suffered from congenital heart disease but insisted on joining the army. He became a driver in a reconnaissance unit and witnessed some of the fiercest fighting, including the liberation of Kherson.

In June 2023, Victoria received a phone call telling her that Andre had committed suicide.

“It was like the world fell apart,” she said.

Ten days later, his body arrived, but she was told it could not be seen.

A lawyer she later hired found inconsistencies in the investigation into his death. Photos from the scene made her cast doubt on the official version of her husband’s death. The Ukrainian military admitted failure and agreed to reopen the investigation.

Now she’s working to reopen the case: “I’m fighting for his name. He can no longer defend himself. My war is not over.”

Oksana Borkun runs a support community for military widows.

Her organization currently works with about 200 suicide families.

“If it’s suicide, then he’s not a hero – that’s what people think,” she said. “Some churches refuse to hold funerals. Some towns won’t put their pictures on memorial walls.”

Many families are skeptical of the official explanation for the deaths. “Some cases are written off too quickly,” she added. “Some mothers opened coffins and found bodies covered in bruises.”

Military chaplain Father Boris Kutovey said at least three people under his command had committed suicide since the full-scale invasion began. But even one was too many for him.

“Every suicide means we have failed somewhere.”

He believes that unlike professional soldiers, many conscripts are particularly psychologically fragile.

Both Oxsana and Father Boris said those who died by suicide should be considered heroes.

Olha Reshetylova, Ukraine’s commissioner for veterans’ rights, said she receives reports of up to four suicides among servicemen every month and admitted not enough was being done: “They have seen hell. Even the strongest people can break.”

She said her office is pushing for systemic changes, but building a good military psychology department could take years.

“Families have a right to know the truth,” she said. “They don’t trust investigators. In some cases, suicide can cover up murder.”

When it comes to honoring these soldiers as military heroes, she prefers to look to the future.

“These people are your neighbors, your colleagues,” Ms. Reshetrova said. “They’ve been through hell. The more warmly we welcome them, the less tragedy there will be”