German Fighters in The Russo-Ukrainian War: "Killing Is Necessary — You Just Have to Do It"
Can Merey, the correspondent of the German newspaper RedaktionsNetzwerk Deutschland (RND), spoke with German volunteers serving and fighting in The International Legions for the Defense of Ukraine. This report offers insights into our German brothers' motivations, combat experiences, worldviews, and future plans.
They are searching for meaning, want to gain combat experience, or take up arms to fight for justice: numerous Germans are risking their lives on the front lines in Ukraine as part of the Ukrainian army. Six of them explain why they traded their safe lives at home for war.
Kharkiv/Lviv. As a child, Hanz enjoyed flying toy drones in his Bavarian hometown. Today, the 20-year-old pilots deadly kamikaze drones over eastern Ukraine. The German from near Munich dropped out of his sales training to join the Ukrainian armed forces. He has been in the country since December and is now fighting on the front lines in the Kharkiv region. In the International Legion, open to foreign volunteers, he was trained as a drone pilot. How does it feel to kill someone? “It’s a new feeling,” says Hanz. “The Russians are trying to kill me. Apparently, I’m doing a better job.”
Hanz arrived from the front line just the evening before our meeting. Like almost all the Germans in this report, he wishes to be quoted by his callsign. The relatively slight young man with a fuzzy beard appears modest — not like a daredevil or cold-blooded fighter. What has made him go to Ukraine? “I saw on the news how civilians were suffering under Russian aggression,” he says. “This injustice, the bombing of civilian targets like supermarkets and hospitals.”
Family Support despite the Dangers of War
His parents were worried, says Hanz. “But they said if that’s what I want, I should follow my heart.” Of course, he is afraid at the front. “But I think it’s for the greater good. Even if you get hurt or killed, at least you’ve made a difference instead of dying old and alone.”
Hanz signed a three-year contract with the Ukrainian army. Although not even a third of that time has passed, he is already considering extending it. “If the war isn’t over, I’ll stay on for another three years.”
Hanz can hardly imagine returning to his old life in Germany. But applying his newly gained skills elsewhere seems more likely. “I think drones are the future of warfare,” says the 20-year-old. “So there’s probably work to be done in other parts of the world as well.”
His German comrade with the callsign Wizard says, “Honestly, I don’t know what I would do if I went back home.” The 34-year-old from near Hanover used to work in IT support for Apple. “You don’t really achieve anything, just dealing with First World problems, ” he says retrospectively. “Here, I’m doing something for the greater good. ”
Wizard: the IT Expert in the Ukrainian Army
Unlike Hanz, Wizard previously served two years as a soldier in Germany. He believes the Bundeswehr — soon to be equipped with kamikaze drones for the first time — could learn a lot from the Ukrainians: “Not just in terms of drones, but also in strategy and tactics. The Bundeswehr never had to fight against the Russians.”
Wizard came to Ukraine shortly after Russia’s invasion in February 2022. “I saw the tanks rolling over the border on TV. It shook me up; I couldn’t work or sleep properly anymore.” Today, he is deputy commander of a platoon of up to 30 international soldiers.
People only see "the coolest clips" from the front on social media. "But it's so much more," says Wizard. "So much more horror." Hanz says that some of his German friends are considering joining the war in Ukraine. "I'm not going to lie to anyone about what it's like here. But I also won't stop anyone from coming."
The foreign fighters in Ukraine are not guerrilla fighters or mercenaries — they are part of the regular armed forces. The army does not disclose their numbers, but it’s clear they come from almost every continent. Their pay is the same as that of Ukrainians and is around €2,500 near the front line – so by German standards, they are not getting rich.
Brotherhood as a Family Substitute
Six German fighters were interviewed for this report. None of them have a partner in Germany, and for some, their newfound camaraderie seems like a substitute for family. Although they previously had no ties to Ukraine, they left everything behind. They quit their jobs and gave up their apartments; some even sold their cars and houses.
Most reveal during the conversations that life in Germany felt unfulfilling, and they were searching for purpose — something they say they’ve found in Ukraine. They unanimously believe they are defending not just Ukraine but also freedom and democracy in Europe. None of them seems to enjoy killing. “Killing is necessary — you just have to do it,” says Wizard. For him, killing is not heroic; it’s about survival. “It’s them or us.”
Propaganda vs. Reality
That foreign fighters are often viewed with suspicion in their home countries may be due to Russian propaganda, which — without evidence — portrays them all as criminals, terrorists, murderers, or neo-Nazis. Wizard says: “I’ve come across a few idiots, but also many good guys. None of them come back from the front, bragging about how many Russians they killed. We do things professionally.” His unit tries to “weed out the nutcases from the start.”
Hanz says he comes from Lower Saxony, a region governed by the SPD. “I’m definitely not a Nazi fan.” He adds: “There are some far-right extremists — not just from Germany. But they leave quickly, or they are asked to leave.”
Siegfried (47) — the man’s real first name — was born in Kazakhstan and moved to Germany in 1994. The former Bundeswehr paratrooper and mortar gunner from Gelsenkirchen trained in explosive ordnance disposal. From 2015 to early 2020, he fought as a volunteer in eastern Ukraine against Russian-backed separatists, then returned to Germany. In February 2022, Siegfried was back in Ukraine. The day before his scheduled departure, the Russians invaded. “So I stayed,” he says.
The "Integration Officer" of His Unit
The meeting with Siegfried takes place in a restaurant in Kharkiv. The tall soldier with a bald head and long gray beard is on leave from the front. He is on a long journey by land transport to the faraway Ruhr region. Where does he feel at home after all these years in Ukraine? “When you go to a pub in Gelsenkirchen and order a beer and a shot, you know where home is,” says the Schalke fan, explaining that he means a pilsner and a whiskey. “But Ukraine, aside from the war, is still beautiful.”
Siegfried trains foreign volunteers and, according to him, is "basically the integration officer" for his unit in the Kharkiv region. "If someone doesn't want to be honest about their motives and tells twisted stories instead, that's a red flag," he explains. "We expect you to tell us what you want here. If you tell me you served in the French Foreign Legion for 20 years and can't prove it, you're a liar."
Foreign volunteers are essential support for the Ukrainian armed forces, Siegfried says. “Ukraine must defend itself and has now reached the point where it doesn’t matter what background foreigners have. They can’t be criminals or wanted by the law. But if someone wants to fight for Ukraine, the army doesn’t care about their political views at home. They can be anarchists, left-wingers, right-wingers or completely apolitical. Here, everyone is simply a volunteer.”
From the Bundeswehr to Ukraine
In western Ukraine’s Lviv region, the International Legion trains foreigners for frontline deployment. The road to the training area passes a cemetery, where the blue and yellow flag of Ukraine flies over each of the many graves of the fallen. The men from Germany and other countries are housed in U.S. Army tents.
One German from North Rhine-Westphalia goes by the name Koza and does not want to reveal his age. He was an instructor at a German Army infantry school before coming to Ukraine. “The training here is relatively good,” says Koza. “Here, you are trained to take part in a war. In Germany, you’re trained to be part of a military reserve. That’s a huge difference.“ His old unit in Germany was “definitely not combat-ready,” he says.
Koza’s comrade Bobcat, a 28-year-old former road and civil engineer from Lower Saxony, describes the military training in Lviv as “excellent.” How did his social circle react to his decision to go to Ukraine? “My parents and siblings died in a car crash six years ago,” Bobcat replies. Friends in NATO strongly advised him against it – “because the risk of dying is so high. But I’m stubborn. Once I set my mind to something, I follow through. And now I’m here.”
"You Have to Stand Side by Side with the Weaker"
Of course, the danger is always in his mind, says Bobcat. “But I see it this way: you can also lose an arm or a leg working on a construction site in Germany.” Bobcat is in the same training unit as Rebel, the electrician and mechanic from Hesse who didn’t actually come to Ukraine to fight – he wanted to help with the reconstruction. The 42-year-old lives apart from his wife and has two small children in Germany whom he rarely sees. Still, he believes he’s doing the right thing.
Rebel says he started out as a German and English teacher. “People were so good to me that I eventually wanted to stand up for them and fight.” The fact that the Russians had been advancing for a long time and Ukraine was on the defensive did not deter him from his decision – quite the contrary. “You have to stand with the weaker side,” Rebel says. Like his comrades, he appears for the interview wearing a mask and carrying an assault rifle. “It’s like back home on the street. If you see someone weaker harassed, you have to help them.”
Contributors: reporter Can Merey, producer Yurii Shyvala, and photographer Andy Spyra
Published on RND.de (Redaktions Netzwerk Deutschland).
You can read the original publication here: RND Article
