Fighting For Ukraine

August 24th 2026 On Ukraine’s Independence Day, Yuriy calls the celebration “nice but strange” as the country keeps fighting for freedom from the enemy in the north. He admits that he mostly says “Russians” only on the podcast; in real life and even on Ukrainian media he uses two older Ukrainian slur names - words that don’t mock appearance, but preserve lived history. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT Today is August 24, Ukraine's Independence Day. It is a nice but strange holiday. This year it is already 35 years old. And yet we are still fighting for our independence from a terrifying bloodthirsty enemy from the north. By the way, I recently realized that I use the enemy's usual name "Russians" only here on this podcast. In everyday life when talking to our military personnel or even when appearing on Ukrainian media, which happens to me from time to time, I use a completely different name. Or rather, names. I call Russians by one of two slur words that exist in the Ukrainian language for describing them. We share one of these words with Belarusians, while the other comes from the Crimean Tatars, and both of them tell you a great deal about Russians. Russians themselves have a great many slur words for describing different nations, races, and peoples. They are usually based on stereotypical ideas about appearance- offensive words referring to skin color, eye size, typical hairstyles, and all sorts of other things. But the Ukrainians slurs for Russians have absolutely nothing to do with their appearance. One of these two words is the same word that was once used to refer to soldiers. You have to understand that despite Ukraine's long military history, even in the early 18th century, there were no soldiers in Ukraine, people whose entire lives were subordinated to their commanders, who could not simply go home, who were tied to barracks, and who were deprived of many other rights. There were no soldiers in Ukraine. Again, there were Cossacks who choose their own commanders, gathered into military forces only during campaigns or to repel enemy attacks, always received their share of the military spoils, and spent most of their lives at home working in agriculture or practicing a trade. Ukrainians encountered a soldier in the conventional sense of the word after the Russian occupation of Ukraine in the 17th and 18th centuries, and one of the two main slurs used to describe Russians dates back to that period. The word was used to refer to soldiers of the occupying army, powerless men, often beggars, who did not shy away from theft and robbery and were essentially slaves to their commanders. Incidentally, Belarusians, who were also occupied at roughly the same time, have the very same word for Russians. The second word came from the Crimean Tatars. Today, the Crimean Tatars are part of a larger Ukrainian nation. For centuries, they were neighbors of the Cossacks, with whom they had a very complicated relationship. Sometimes they were allies and would go together to burn Moscow. At other times, they'd fall out spectacularly and start fighting each other. The Crimean Tatars had several words for the Russians who had spent years destroying and humiliating them. One of those words made its way into the Ukrainian language as well. Translated from Crimean Tatar, it means butcher or reaper. I'm not a great fan of slurs, but I have to admit that these two have stood the test of time and proven themself to be remarkably accurate.

August 13th 2026 Yuriy describes the fact that Russians are erasing entire Ukrainian cities—first with mass artillery and then with heavy KAB bombs—reducing them to ash and rubble while calling it “liberation.” He describes Kharkiv being bombed daily, with deaths, ruined infrastructure, and familiar streets and parks scarred but still standing, unlike towns that now exist only as piles of debris visible on Google Maps. He calls the attackers a death cult and thanks people abroad whose support has helped Ukraine hold them back. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT It is August 13. In my circle, there are more and more people who literally no longer have a hometown. It simply does not exist anymore. This is a Russian tactic to destroy entire cities and then plant their flags on the ruins. At first, they did it with artillery. Hundreds of guns, like in the First World War, pounded built-up areas, turning them to dust, along with their residents, their pets, their belongings, their dreams, and their hopes. Then, when artillery shells started running out, the Russians began dropping bombs on cities. Do you know what these bombs are called? The KAB 500, the KAB 1000, the KAB 3000. The number in the name is the weight of the bomb: 500 kilograms, one ton, three tons. Look on YouTube at what three tons of explosives looks like when it goes off, and imagine what happens to a city that is hit by bombs like that day after day. It is ruins upon ruins mixed with the bones of people and animals. It is ash that has burned for so long that it has become almost colorless. A lunar landscape looks more alive and more vivid than the landscapes of the cities the Russians have reached. And they call this "liberation." They are completely serious about it. Destroying an entire city, killing civilians, leaving not a single building intact, forcing thousands of people to flee and abandon everything they have, this is what the Russians call "liberation." I sincerely wish this kind of liberation on every one of their cities, every single one. My hometown, Kharkiv, is bombed every day. People die there every day. Buildings are destroyed. Infrastructure is being wrecked, and yet the city still exists. The streets where my grandfather and I used to walk when I was a child is full of bomb craters, but it is still there. The park where my daughter used to run around as a little girl took several bombs that burned its trees and killed squirrels and birds, but it is still exist. I can walk down that street. I can go to that park. And thousands of people can see their hometowns only on Google Maps because there is nothing left of them, only mountains of rubble and smell of explosives and death. And this has been going on for years. Just imagine, for years no one has been able to stop these maniacs, these followers of some strange death cult that does not even have a coherent ideology- just death for the sake of death. I am grateful to the people in other countries who still believe in us and continue to help us. Without you, we would not have been able to hold back this death cult. Without your support, it would have been impossible. Thank you

August 4th 2026 Yuriy reflects on a recurring message from a friend who has served since the first days of the war: “It’s a miracle we are still standing.” He recalls his first unit that defended Kyiv in February–March 2022, noting that out of roughly 100 people, by August 2026 only seven or eight would still be serving. About half were killed, many in the first two years; others are missing in action, discharged due to wounds or health, or allowed to leave after losing close family. He recounts a father and 18-year-old son who served together, the son’s death in the first summer, and the father carrying his body out before leaving the army. He describes prisoners in harsh Russian camps, some exchanged, others still held, and concludes that almost none of the early volunteers remain in uniform as he marks four and a half years - 10% of his life - in the army. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is 4th of August. One of my friends who, like me, has been in the army since the very first days of the war, sends me the same message from time to time, "It's a miracle we are still standing." And it really is a miracle. If someone had thought to take a group photo of my first unit, the one that defended Kiev in February and March of 2022, when out of the roughly 100 people in that picture by August 2026, no more than seven or eight would still be serving. About half of our guys are dead, most of them killed during the first two years of the war. Many others are missing in action. Most likely, they were killed too. Their bodies were simply never found, and as long as there is no body to bury, a person is officially listed as missing. Some were discharged because of their health or after being wounded. A few were allowed to leave the army after losing close family members in the war. In my first unit, a father and his son served together. The father was about my age. The son was 18. He was killed during first summer of the war. His father carried his body back from the front line himself. He trusted no one else to do it. After that, he left the army. I have no idea where he is now. Some of our people were taken prisoner. A few have been exchanged and managed to return to civilian life. Others are still trapped in the inhuman conditions of Russian prison camps that have hardly changed since the days of Stalin's gulag. I've seen men returning from those places. Several of my friends survived Russian captivity. It is the worst thing I can imagine. Thankfully, those who come back have the right to leave the military and try to build a life again. And this is just one unit- my first company. The picture is much the same everywhere else. Of the hundreds of thousands of the volunteers who joined during the first weeks of the invasion, almost none are still in uniform. We are like dinosaurs that somehow escaped extinction while the rest of our species disappeared. I did the math recently and realized I've reached a strange milestone. Almost exactly 10% of my life has now been spent in the army. Four and a half years out of 45. For someone who never imagined linking his life to military service, that's a very long time. For someone who has spent those four and a half years fighting in the bloodiest war since the Second World War, it's far too long.

July 17th 2026 Yuriy recalls meeting a Kurdish sheikh in Iraq about 10 years earlier, a lifelong warrior who had fought ISIS, Al Qaeda, Saddam Hussein’s army, and rival Kurdish clans, and who said he “shot people because he couldn’t shoot an ideology.” When pressed on how such different enemies shared one ideology, the sheikh explained that the common thread was tyranny—systems that turn people into obedient pawns—while slogans like Arab socialism or an Islamic state were merely appealing “wrapping paper.” Yuriy says he often thinks of this conversation because it helps explain Ukraine’s fight today: Ukrainians are shooting Russians drawn to “senseless, bloody tyranny,” since the only alternative is submission and the spread of that brutality westward; resisting tyranny is the thin line protecting ordinary democratic life. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is July 17. About 10 years ago in Iraq, I met a Kurdish sheikh- the head of a large, warlike clan scattered across the northern mountains. The sheikh, who was already in his 70s at the time, looked like a character from an adventure novel or a supporting figure in Lawrence of Arabia: a neatly trimmed white beard, a small turban, loose Middle Eastern robes fluttering in the wind. Even his weapon resembled Lawrence's- a British rifle dating back to the First World War. The sheikh had spent his entire life at war. He had grown up in war. His children had grown up in war. He had outlived two of his sons, both killed by his enemies. His grandchildren were growing up in the war as well. He seemed to make no distinction between his past and present enemies: ISIS, Al Qaeda, Saddam Hussein's army, or the leaders of rival Kurdish clans. To him, they were all the same. "I shoot people because I can't shoot an ideology," he told me. Their ideology is hostile to us, and so everyone who embraces it is our enemy. His explanation surprised me. After all, Saddam Hussein's secular quasi-fascist Ba'ath Party and ISIS stood for entirely different things, and the ideology of rival Kurdish clans had nothing in common with either Saddam's regime or jihadists. So I pressed him, asking what exactly he meant when he spoke about this single ideology shared by all his enemies. The sheikh's men, with whom we were sitting around an enormous table in his house, a table holding nothing but coffee and bottled water, looked at me as though I were a fool, someone who failed to grasp the obvious. The sheikh, however, seemed perfectly happy to explain himself to a foreigner. "Look," the sheikh said, "they all have one ideology, tyranny. They want people to do whatever they're told, to be nothing but dumb pawns. Building Arab socialism like Saddam did or an Islamic state like ISIS, that's just wrapping paper meant to appeal to people. People fall easily for deceptive things behind which tyranny hides. That's why I fought my whole life. Tyranny will always find a way to be appealing." I don't know why, but I find myself recalling this conversation quite often. It seems to me that it explains a lot about us in Ukraine too, and about you as well- those living in a still peaceful West. What I mean is that, like the Kurdish sheikh who shot people because he could not shoot an ideology, we are now shooting Russians to whom their senseless, bloody tyranny seems very appealing. We may like it or not, but the only alternative is to submit to that brutal tyranny, to merge into it, to become part of it. And to move farther west along with it. And so our hatred of tyranny, our refusal to submit to it, that is the main thing defending the democratic world, th

July 9th 2026 After a long absence, Yuriy returns on July 9 and explains he’s been overwhelmed by depression and insomnia while continuing his military duties amid constant bombings, personal losses, and worry for his seriously ill father far away. With sleepless nights stretching on, he began revisiting and rewriting stories from his years reporting wars and revolutions in the Middle East, shaping them into something new. Friends pushed the manuscript to a major Ukrainian publisher, and it’s now being edited for an October release—if it can survive the reality of a Kharkiv publishing world repeatedly hit by Russian attacks. The result is a book called "The Last Superhero in Gaza," a war book with little shooting and much more friendship, love, despair, fear—and Elvis. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/

March 15th 2026 Yuriy recalls buying an olive military backpack in early 2022 despite friends insisting the Ukraine war would end soon, and now—after wearing through three and needing a fourth—he reflects bitterly on how long the war has lasted. He marks the time by his daughter turning 21 and laments missing key moments of her growing up, wishing her a life with more peace. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is 15th of March. I recently found myself remembering how at the very beginning of my service in the Army, I ordered a backpack from an online store for all my military stuff. Back then, my comrades advised me to buy a black or a blue one, anything but an olive colored backpack. The logic was simple: the war would end soon and you'd be left with an obviously military backpack. Why would you need something like that in civilian life? But at that time, early spring of 2022, the only backpacks available for sale in Ukraine were olive colored. I had no choice but to buy one, and for a while afterwards I had to listen to people around me explaining what a fool I was. The war would be over any day now, and here you are all decked out in military gear. It's strange to remember that now. Strange and bitter at the same time. Since the beginning of a full scale war, I've already gone through free olive backpacks. The current one isn't in great shape anymore. I've had to stitch it up, replace the zippers, reinforce the straps. But anyway, it'll clearly soon join. Its two predecessors and I'll go back looking for a new one- my fourth backpack. And I'm not all sure that it'll be the last. Honestly, I'm not sure. To understand how long ago I bought that first backpack. It's enough to say that my daughter had just turned 17 back then. When the big war began she was 16. And it is her birthday today, she's 21. She's fully grown old, but I was not next to her at some very important moments of her growing up. Not because I didn't want to be, but because I simply couldn't- because the war means I cannot control my own life. This year, I'm not beside here either. I'm very sorry, but it's turned out this way. But there is nothing I can do to change it. I hope that next year everything will be different, but that's only hope. There is no certainty about it and there it can't be. 21 is a wonderful age. You are already an adult, but your whole life is still ahead of you. On her birthday, I definitely wish my daughter that her life contains more peace. Everything else has long since faded into the background.

February 20th 2026 Yuriy reflects on Ukraine’s Day of Remembrance of the Heroes of the Heavenly Hundred, honoring protesters killed during the February 2014 shootings in Kyiv and describing them as the first victims of the Russian-Ukrainian war, driven by Kremlin pressure on Yanukovych’s regime and propaganda portraying protesters as Nazis and criminals. Recounting what he witnessed during the confrontation, he frames the uprising as a pivotal victory for Ukraine’s freedom—comparable to foundational historical turning points—and vows that despite the ongoing, exhausting war and terror, Ukraine will not return to dictatorship or surrender. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is February 20. Today is one of the most important commemorative days in Ukraine's history- the day of Remembrance of Heroes of Heavenly Hundred. This day owners was who killed 12 years ago in February 2014, during the shooting of protesters who were opposing the corrupt gangster-like regime of President Yanukovych. Many of us did not realize it at that time, but the, the, the first victims of the Russian-Ukrainian war. Even if the bullets that killed dozens of people in central Kyiv were fired by Ukrainian police, it was done in the interest of the Russian authorities under their pressure and above all for their sake. The Kremlin needed not only to keep Ukraine within its sphere of influence, but also to keep Ukrainians in subjugation, denying them the ability to choose their own future. What is why Russia pushed the dim-witted pitiful Yanukovych to use firearms against peaceful protestors; that is why it urgently sent it advisors to Kyiv who directed the actions of the security forces and what is why it unleashed a frenzied propaganda campaign to discredit the protestors, portraying them all as Nazis and criminals. Incidentally, this is how Russian media now portray all Ukrainians. I was in central Kyiv throughout all the days of a bloody confrontation. Before my eyes people were being killed, people who walked toward machine guns trying to protect themselves from them with makeshift wooden shields. Wood against a machine gun steel. And we would won. The vast apparatus of killing and coercion, lavishly, greased with Russian money and fueled by hatred of freedom broke against people in hockey helmets whose most dangerous weapons were Molotov of cocktails. The regime of a stupid sadist Yanukovych built on corruption and intimidation on handouts from Moscow and total lies collapsed. It was a great victory. Yes, in many ways it was symbolic, only the beginning of a confrontation, but continues to this day- but it was an immensely important symbol. For me The Day of Remembrance of The heroes of the Heavenly Hundred stands alongside the signing of a Declaration of Independence or the adoption of Magna Carta. Yes, those events were not unambiguous instant victories; much more blood was shed and much pain endured afterward. But we became turning points after which a return to dictatorship was no longer imaginable. Well, at least until recently. Back then, 12 years ago, we all changed Ukraine chose freedom, from which our deranged neighbor so desperately refuses to let us go, but we will not return to the Gulag, we will not surrender. It is very hard and cold, now physically and psychologically exhausting. Yet the path to freedom that began in February 2014 will be carried through to the end. We are living in terrible times. More horrifying than one could invent, but freedom will prevail. It must; it simply has to prevail.

January 21st 2026 Yuriy opens up about his prolonged absence and the challenges faced due to personal struggles with depression and caution in communication. He provides an insightful look into the difficulties Ukraine is currently facing, including severe winter conditions, escalating attacks on civilians and infrastructure, and the pervasive impact of the ongoing war on future plans. Yuriy shares a poignant narrative about the harsh realities of living in war-torn Ukraine and the need for global support and understanding. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   This is January 21st. I've been absent from here for quite a long time. This is connected, first of all with depression, which from time to time catches up with me and turns me into a person who's simply unable to write a conscious, coherent text. And secondly, is connected with caution. I really don't want to say something that could damage relations between Ukraine and the United States, something that officials in America, if they hear it might perceive as an insult and begin to put even more pressure on Ukraine. These are very hard times right now, probably the hardest of all the years of the full scale war. We don't know what to expect from our, until very recently, main ally, and at the same time, this is very coldest winter in years. It is very cold and Russia is constantly trying to make advantage of it. Every day the occupiers bomb heat and power plants living millions of Ukrainians without heat and electricity. This happened in previous years as well, but now everything is much worse because of a prolonged severe frost and the large number of missiles and drones the Russians have stockpiled. The number of civilians killed by this scum grows every day. No one hopes for a quick end of the war anymore. All plans for this year are connected only with the war. The son of my friends who will turn 25 in November, the age of conscription into the active army, is already looking for a unit for himself already now, almost a year in advance. He wants to find one where he can be as effective as possible. As it turns out, it is very difficult to live in a world where for years your future is tied only to war attempts to plan something to dream about something are absolutely futile. You begin to live in  short stretches of time to make it to the next week, to wait until it gets warm, even just to make it to evening. When you live in this mode and at the same time, know exactly who has imposed this mode on you, it is very painful to watch how somewhere in the world this maniac and murderer is still considered a respectable person, is invited places, is consulted about something- damn, I'm about to slip and to things I shouldn't. So just know this: we are holding on despite everything, and we believe that reasonable people from all over the world are with us and on our side. Thank you.

December 12th 2025 In this episode, Yuriy, a journalist-turned-soldier, reflects on his experiences with body armor during his reporting years in conflict zones such as Syria, Iraq, and Gaza. He explains his decision to forgo wearing body armor due to its cumbersome nature and the logistical challenges it presented. Reflecting on the early days of his military service during the full-scale war in his country, he discusses the difficulties in acquiring suitable protective gear and the realization that body armor has an expiration date. Facing an uncertain future, he hopes that the war will end before his current body armor becomes unreliable. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is December 12th. In my former life as a reporter, I eventually started neglecting my body armor. And that's easy to explain: it is heavy, takes up a lot of space, it is hot inside it, and it's difficult to move. I always took a helmet with me to every dangerous assignment, Syria, Iraq, Gaza, and so on. But the west I carried far from always did I ever regret, not taking it with me? No, at least I don't remember ever regretting it. Did I regret it when I did bring the vest? Almost every single time. I had to look for a bag big enough to fit it, pay huge extra fees for its excessive weight at airports, and once the border guards confiscated it from me, right upon arrival for the Arab Spring in Cairo- it just sat in the warehouse for two weeks until I flew back. Essentially, I just took the vest on a round trip to Africa at my own expense. And it is very hard to run in it, especially with asthma: getting into a car or an APC is a struggle and clothing under it gets ruined very quickly from friction and sweat. Long story short, at some point I simply decided I was not going to take it anymore -that a helmet alone was really enough for me. I even justified that decision with Vietnam War era statistics claiming what the likelihood of suffering a severe head injury was much higher than getting hit in the body by a bullet or shrapnel. I did not know how accurate those numbers really were, but they suited me, so I clung to them. The helmet did save me a few times. It took hits from the stones and tear gas grenades, it served as my pillow, my chair, and my hammer. At one point, I just gave my body armor to a friend who was heading into a dangerous place and told him he could keep it. I said that it only collected dust and took up space. So when the full scale war came to my own country, I ended up having no armor at all. In the first weeks of the war, they gave me a strange old plate carrier with large, heavy plates. It was poorly sewn and fell apart very quickly. I tried to find a new carrier for the plates that remained, but it turned out those plates were completely non-standard and simply did not fit into normal carriers. I had to buy new plates- with the money raised through this podcast -ordered from Austria, they arrived very quickly and fit perfectly into standard vest. Honestly, I don't remember whether I read the markings on those plates at that time or not, but recently I took them out of the vest and accidentally noticed that they have an expiration date. They are not eternal and in fact not very long lasting. Mine are good until June 2027. What happens after that is hard to say. As far as I understand, some kind of composite material, which makes the plates somewhat lighter than the solid metal ones, will start losing its properties and won't be as strong as before. Of course, they won't crumble into dust in July 2027, but they won't be as reliable as we are now. I hope I won't be serving

November 11th 2025 In this milestone 300th episode of Fighting For Ukraine, Ukrainian journalist-turned-soldier, now war Veteran Yuriy marks his 45th birthday on the front lines — another year lived inside the Ukraine war. What should have been a day of celebration is instead filled with reflection, grief, and quiet resilience. Yuriy looks back on the years the war has taken — from 41 to 45 — and the many personal losses along the way, including the recent passing of his beloved cat, his longtime companion and namesake for his army call sign. Through this heartfelt story, Yuriy opens up about the loneliness of a soldier’s life, the pain of being far from aging parents, and the small, sacred comforts that keep hope alive — even if that hope now takes the shape of a “cat god” watching over his furry friend. Recorded on Veterans Day, this episode is both a birthday reflection and a meditation on endurance, love, and the cost of survival in wartime Ukraine. Here is his substack about his cat Pumpkin: https://open.substack.com/pub/yuriymatsarsky/p/pumpkin?r=dzvo1&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is November 11, And this is the 300th episode of my podcast, and it is special because today is my birthday. I turned 45. When the full scale war began, and I became a soldier, I was 41. Yes, it has been going on for that long. 41, 42, 43, 44, and now 45- these are the years of my life taken by the war. The past year has probably been the hardest. My parents, whom I haven't seen in several years are getting sicker, and my chances of seeing them again are getting smaller. By the way, today is also my mother's birthday. She gave birth to us- to me and to my traitor brother -on her own holiday. This was another year of unfulfilled expectations, a year of painful losses. Even the end of my 44th year was very hard. In the first days of November, my cat passed away and he was actually something more than just a kid. He was my little furry best friend, and I even took my call sign in his honor when I joined the army. Once my cat was even with me on a mission the summer before last, my comrades and I were in the east and we were housed in a building that was full of mice. It was impossible to live there because of the number of rodents, so I brought my cat with me. He did not catch a single mouse- he was terribly afraid of them- but just his presence and his smell scared the mice away. They left and we were able to live there in peace.  He was such a good cat, so dear to me. Even in his death, he saved me. In recent days, I was in a very bad psychological state, truly very depressed. All of it was headed either toward a nervous breakdown or a heart attack, and then I found out that my cat died and something in me just burst. I cried for about an hour bitterly and without stopping. And I felt better afterwards. I felt calm. I don't believe in human god. He does not exist, or at least not the one described in the Bible- all good and all powerful. If he existed, this whole nightmare simply would not have happened. But I really want to believe in a cat god, one who would take care of my little cat, tell him kind things and wrap him in a blanket before sleep. I like a god like that. I will think about him or her and maybe it'll make things a bit easier. So this turns out to be another set episode, even though it's a birthday one. And it's also Veterans Day to day. So it should have been a double celebration, but I don't feel festival. In the previous episode, I talked about the books I bought a year ago, planning to read

November 4th 2025 In this moving episode of Fighting For Ukraine, Ukrainian journalist-turned-soldier Yuriy reflects on life in the midst of the Ukraine war — and on the small dreams that help him and his comrades endure. As the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine stretches far beyond the first six months, Yuriy shares how Ukrainian soldiers hold on to hope by imagining the peace that will someday come. Some plan to ride motorcycles or rebuild farms; Yuriy dreams of returning home to read two heavy volumes — The Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings and The Penguin Guide to Blues Recordings. Yuriy reveals the inner world of a Ukrainian soldier: the longing for normal life, the optimism that survives even on the front lines, and the reminder that every unread book or unplayed record can become a symbol of survival. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is November four. In the early days of a full-scale war, we in the Army held on thanks to the confidence that it would all end soon: in six months or in a year, everyone would go home, return to the usual routines. All the conversations back then were about what awaited each of us at home or at work. But as six months passed, then a year and even more time, it became harder and harder to cling to the expectation of a quick return to normal life. Even the most stubborn born started to realize that this was going to drag on for a long time. Those with more flexible minds were the lucky ones. These people adapted pretty quickly to military life, eagerly started earning ranks and had no problem tying even their distant future to the army. There are actually a lot of them- people who were completely civilian before, who became real warriors and feel perfectly fine in their new role. But there are others who still need to envision some kind of conditionally peaceful future. Since in our reality, it is still nowhere in sight, people start inventing it for themselves. I have a friend who bought a motorcycle for after the war, even for he does not know how to ride it. Another one, with no agricultural experience whatsoever, bought an abandoned farm that he plans to restore and start growing some plants. I'm still a civilian inside too. I need some picture of future outside the army. So, a year ago I bought myself two slightly used books The Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings and The Penguin Guide to Blues Recordings. These are very detailed description of jazz and blues recordings starting from the dawn of sound recordings and covering almost up to the present day. And the title does not mean that the books were written by penguins, or that the Penguins are the primary audience. It refers to the publishing house, Penguin, which printed the books.  You might say, that is nonsense compared to a motorcycle and especially a farm- but I'll tell you that this purchase is a proof that I'm no ordinary optimist. Behind buying the books was the imagination of how after the war, I'd spend evenings, slowly reading them, listening to the albums, mentioned in them, and then buying on vinyl those what I liked the most. There are already too many assumptions in that. I have to live until peace comes. I have to keep my hearing and my love for music. I need to have time and the opportunity to read those books -and the money for the records. Like I said, I'm an optimist. The books are waiting for me at home. They are big and heavy to lug around, they have delicate paper covers. And anyway, I bought them specifically to read after the war, not now. So, I haven't even opened them yet. And once for a moment, I even regretted that. Completely unexpectedly,

October 27th 2025 Yuriy returns to his childhood apartment in Kharkiv, reflecting on memories and the stark changes brought by war. Amidst the remnants of the past, he finds solace in small comforts and prepare the space for fellow Ukrainian soldiers passing through. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is 27th of October. I'm recording this episode sitting in the kitchen of my apartment in Kharkiv. I came here for, just a few hours and almost as soon as I finish this story, I'll be living again. This apartment belonged to several generations of my family. I grew up here, as did my cousins, my daughter, and my nephews. There were always a lot of people here, always noisy and cheerful, you know those silly comedies where stereotypical Italian families all cram into a tiny kitchen and everyone talks at once, it was kind of like that here too. But for almost four years now, it hasn't been like that. The Russian border is less than 20 miles away and constant sharing has destroyed much of the civilian infrastructure. There is no heat in the apartment and electricity is often cut off. I look out the window and see almost the same view I saw all my childhood- trees with yellow, autumn leaves a few people walking by dogs, pigeons perched on the wires, waiting for my elderly neighbor to come out and feed them bread crumbs. Of course, many things in the courtyard have changed. The big, beautiful riping willow is gone, only the stump remains. A few weeks before the full scale war, it was struck by lightning and burned completely. If I believed in omens, I would have taken that as a very bad sign. Next to the stump, there is something else that was not here when I was a child, a green military van. It's mine. It's large and fairly comfortable though, it's already 20 years old. It could easily fit my whole family and we could drive somewhere to the sea, to Crimea where it is still warm, even if swimming in the sea is no longer possible. But there is no one to go with, and Crimea has long been occupied. My family is scattered across the world. The once noisy apartment now stands silent and slowly falls apart. I'm not selling it or renting it out- not only for sentimental reasons, but also because I use it as a place to rest during my trips. There is still gas here so I can hit some water and take a shower. When the power's on, I can even do laundry in the washing machine. You can't imagine what a luxury that is for a soldier. I made several sets of keys to this apartment and gave them to friends who serve nearby or occasionally pass through Kharkiv. I can tell that someone was here recently. There is a bottle of water and a can of food on the table just in case someone arrives late when the stores are closed, so they'll have something to eat and something to make tea or coffee with. Someone also spent the night in my daughter's former room and read books from her little library, Sherlock Holmes, and some modern science fiction. It's time for me to go. I'll check if I've turned off all the lights, leave some fresh water and a bit of cookies on the table for people who can come here in the future and head out from my childhood home once again. I don't know when or if I'll come back, but I really hope I will.

October 7th 2025 In the wake of increased Russian bombings targeting Ukraine, the city of Dnipro stands as a primary target. Despite the ongoing devastation and personal horror, residents persist in daily life, adapting to the continuous threat while grappling with immense fear and loss. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is October seven. In recent months, the Russians have been bombing Ukraine more intensely than at any time during the previous three years. Every day they launch dozens of missiles at cities and several times a week they also carry out hyper attacks. Using hundreds of chemical drones, cruise missiles, and ballistic missiles. They target boiler houses and power plants, which is especially painful now with the weather is turning cold, as well as railway stations and residential buildings. People die horrible deaths, suffocating under wearable, crashed by the remains of their own homes, or burnt alive after explosions. The city of Dnipro, a huge metropolis in Eastern Ukraine, is one of the main targets of these bombings. It lies not far from the front line, so the Russians [00:01:00] shell it constantly, and with everything they have. It is interesting that at the beginning of the invasion, Dnipro was not bombed at all. For several months, the occupiers furiously bombed Kyiv, Kharkiv and Mykolaiv, but not Dnipro. I think it was because of their false believe that most of the population there supported Russia and would soon rise up against the Ukrainian government. For a long time, the Russians actually believed that nonsense. They never knew anything about Ukraine and they never understood us. And now they're taking revenge for the destruction of their own illusions by raining rockets and drones down on Dnipro. I've been in Dnipro for past few days. I saw the horror with my own eyes. You know, it's terrifying when a drone carrying tens of kilograms of explosives hits a building right next to you and completely destroys it. The smoke rise over the city [00:02:00] in a massive column: several streets are literate with a debris of ruin structure; there are dead and badly injured people. And yet life goes on. People rush to work, drink coffee, public transport runs, shops are open. It's not because people are heartless, it's because they're grown used to eat. When it happens once, it's a shock. But when it happens every day for years, there is no strength left to react. People adapt to the horror and learn to live alongside it. Is it easy? No, it's incredibly hard. A few days ago I spoke on the phone with my daughter. She's studying at university. Fortunately, she doesn't have to pay due tuition now because the children of combatants are allowed to study for free. She studies, works two jobs and is currently looking for a third. I ask her why she need such a heavy workload [00:03:00] since her income should already be enough for a modest life, but it turned out it's not just about money. She told me this: "When I have free time, I cry from fear and despair. That's why I want to have as little free time as possible." The great war has been going on for an almost four years now. Almost four years of fear, despair, and heroism.

Yuriy reflects on his three and a half years in the army, recounting experiences of loss, perseverance, and the ongoing conflict that has spanned 1,300 days. He shares personal anecdotes and the emotional toll the prolonged war has taken on him and his country. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)     It is September 16th. I took a long post to try to make sense of what's happening. I've been in the army for over three and a half years. I've buried countless friends and colleagues, and I've watched entire towns perish and enemy bombardments. And there is still no, end in sight. The big war has been going on for over 1,300 days, and before that there was a smaller war confined to a couple of regions in the east of a country. In total, the war has been a region for 11 years. And I constantly think about how it could easily drag on for another 11. I spent a lot of time driving now. Sometimes I have to cover 400-500 miles in a day. You drive and you constantly thinking, constantly recalling stories you'd almost forgotten. For example, I remember how in the first days someone gave me a NATO first eight kit- a very valuable thing even now, but back when it was worth its weight in gold. A few days later, I gave it to a guy who was replacing me at a position before I was sent to rest, that was the first or second week of a big war. I thought it would all be over quickly, so I wouldn't need the kit anymore. I figured I'd return from the rest straight to the civilian life. Why would I need a first aid kit there? It's been 1300 days ago and I still haven't returned. I don't regret giving away the kit. Maybe it saved someone's life. But damn, what a fool I was back then. I believed the end was near. I also remembered a woman in Iraq who escaped from ISIS on the boat with several children, an ordinary peasant widow. She rowed it for nights, hiding in the reeds eating almost nothing, but she made it out. I asked her how she managed. She said 'I did not even want to see was bastards but that's what gave me strength.' Our whole country has been holding on for years, probably only because we don't want to see these bastards crawling over our northern border. But refusal, it seems to me it's the only inexhaustible resource a normal person has. All the other resources: optimism, faith in the future, hope for better days, even tolerance for hours are running out. At least for me. I've become harsh in human root and I increasingly offend people for no reason. I understand it all, but I can't do anything about it. Everything has changed so much. And so have I.

August 22nd 2025 Yuriy returns after a long absence to discuss the uncertain future of Ukraine's war. He shares his concerns about decisions being made without Ukraine's consent, the potential humiliation in impending peace talks, and the internal divisions in Ukraine that may follow. Send Yuriy your letter of support fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com  Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is 22nd of August. Sorry, I've been absent for a long time. First, I was somewhere without stable internet connection, and when I came down with COVID, which I only just managed to recover from Stevie, who helped me make this podcast, who actually came up with the idea for it and who has been distributing it and supporting me in every possible way since day one sent me your letters of support. I am very grateful to all of you right now. Support is absolutely essential. It feels to me like we are entering the most uncertain and bleak stage of the war. In the beginning, everything was very simple: take up a rifle and go to the trenches- either you stop the occupiers, or you vanish along with the country. And for quite a long time, that's exactly how it was. Now everything is completely different. Decisions about Ukraine's fate are being made without Ukraine. For months, we've been under pressure with various ultimatums. One moment we are told to give up our regions and hand them over without a fight to the invaders. Another time we are told to hold elections in the middle of a bloodiest war in Europe in decades, then they come up with something else. And all this is not coming from our enemies, as one might expect, but from our partners and allies. Maybe I'm wrong, but I have a bad feeling that we are being prepared for something terribly humiliating. One of my fellow journalists who has long been serving in the army recently said something terrifying. "Enjoy the war because of a peace will be horrible." And I'm afraid he's right. Because it looks like the Russians will simply be forgiven for everything they've done and even allowed to keep the territories they've occupied. Hundreds of thousands of Ukrainians will remain under occupation. Right now, they still have hope that the Ukrainian army will return and free them, but once the war is frozen, that hope will vanish. Once the war is frozen. Ukrainians also will start looking for someone to blame, for failing to take everything back and destroy the enemy once and for all. And I fear that many will decide that the ones to blame are us, the soldiers. That we did not try hard enough, that we did not give it everything we could, that we let everyone down. Entire political parties will appear representing the interests of those who dodged the draft. They will hound the military and belittle the sacrifice of wars who died. Once again, we will be voices calling for cooperation with Russia dragging back Russian music, movies, and money. Meanwhile, Russia will be preparing for the next war. It has already learned from its mistakes and it's only waiting for the right moment to try to take all of Ukraine. It does not need much for that division within Ukraine itself, and more money which will flow in as soon as sanctions are lifted. The future really does look uncertain and frightening. And so perhaps for those of us still alive, it really is worth enjoying the war while waiting for the terrible peace, but I very much hope I'm wrong.

July 28th 2025 Yuriy reflects on his experience with illness, the enduring effects of war in Ukraine, and the striking parallels between his own journey and that of his grandfather, both marked by their status as war veterans. Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is July 28th And it's beautiful rainy day. I had stayed silent for quite a while, but it wasn't by choice. For the past two weeks, I've been sick with COVID. I have to admit these were two terrible weeks at times it even felt like we might be my last. These days, every illness seems harder and more severe than the previous one, and yet during the first year of a full scale war. I did not get sick at all. Despite having to sleep on concrete floors or frozen grounds, my body somehow mobilized itself and made it through the whole year without any illness. Only my teeth started falling out. Then at the beginning of my second year of service, something broke inside. And I began to fall ill, bronchitis, flu then flu again, then COVID again. It felt like my immune system had just stopped working. I tried to push through every illness on my feet, refusing to go to the hospital, but it did not always work. I remember the first time I found myself in a hospital ward that had a sign on the door. Ward for war veterans. The sign dated back to Soviet times, still written in Russian. I remember thinking then: how did I end up here in this kind of ward? The thing is, for many years there was only one "war" in the public consciousness. The USSR fought in plenty of wars, but officially they were called something absurd: fulfilling international duty assisting fraternal socialist nations, or something like that. And there was only one real war, the second World war. Or rather,, just the part of it starting from June 1941, when Hitler attacked his former ally, Stalin, and launched a war against the Soviet Union. Only the veterans of that war were considered true veterans and it was them that signs referred to when we said a hospital ward or tram seat was reserved for war veterans. For me, a war veteran had always been someone old and very ill- like my grandfather. In his final years, he was always in wards, veteran wards, constantly being operated on by doctors trying to prolong his life a bit more. And now it suddenly turns out that I'm a veteran too. Well, I'm definitely sick like one, unfortunately. By the way, about a year ago when I was in Kharkiv, I happened to find my grandfather's veteran ID. He received it from the Ukrainian authorities after the collapse of USSR. And you know what? It looks exactly the same as the one I received 30 years after my grandfather.

July 11th 2025 Yuriy reflects on the psychological toll of war, the loss of close friends, and the inescapable horrors faced in Ukraine. Amidst widespread destruction and cruelty, he delves deep into the struggle of being both an observer and an active participant in the conflict. You can email Yuriy, ask him questions or simply send him a message of support: fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com   You can help Yuriy and his family by donating to his GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-yuriys-family   Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is 11th of July. I'm starting to forget my fallen friends. A few days ago, someone reminded me of anniversary of one of their deaths. And it took me quite a while to remember who they were even talking about. I think this is how the minds defense mechanisms work. They push away the nightmarish memories of losing close people and with them their names and even their faces. These can probably be prevented, for example, by keeping a journal. Many people around me do just that: they record everything that is happening. Some have already published their journals as books, or turned them into film or theatre scripts, but I don't want that. I don't want to keep a journal or publish it or turn it into a screenplay about the war. I haven't even listened to a single episode of my own podcast. It's too painful for me digging into memories, dragging out the shadows of the death and the suffering of a wounded. You know, being a reporter- and I've done that for over 20 years- is above all about knowing how to be invisible. You write about events in Syria, in Iraq, in Egypt- wherever- but you yourself are not present in the texts. You never use the words "I". Or at least you try not to, because you are not the main character here. You're just an observer who cannot and must not influence what's happening. But here, you can't be invisible. A soldier in war is an active participant, not an observer. And when you write about this war, you write about yourself too. Or rather, first and foremost about yourself. And how can you write about yourself when you are alive and countless, thousands are not. In just the last three months alone, over 1500 civilians have been killed. Every night Ukrainian cities are destroyed by missiles and kamikaze drones. And you can't imagine how ordinary Russians celebrate this on social media. Every murder Ukrainian child is a holiday to them. Every destroyed home, a reason to cheer and laugh. It's a twisted world. Instead of raising their our children and building their our own cities, they kill our children and destroy our cities. The mind just can't handle it. Because the cruelty and hatred are so unnatural, so inhuman that it feels like it simply can't be real, but it is, and we are living in it for the fourth year now. And we are starting to forget those who died in the war with this inhuman mass that came for us.

July 3rd 2025 Yuriy recounts a harrowing experience in Cairo during the mass protests against the ruling authorities in Egypt on July 3rd, 2013. He covers the arrest of President Mohamed Morsi, the dangers faced by journalists and foreigners, and the tragic events surrounding the military dispersal of the pro-Morsi encampment at Rabaa al-Adawiya mosque. You can email Yuriy, ask him questions or simply send him a message of support: fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com   You can help Yuriy and his family by donating to his GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-yuriys-family   Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is July 3rd, 12 years ago, around this very day, I woke up drenched in sweat from the stiffing heat in a small hotel room overlooking RI square in Cairo, mass protests against the ruling authorities were unfolding in the Egyptian capital. The day before I had spent time near a military compound on Nasr Street, where the country's president, Mohamed Morsi, recently arrested by the military who had supposedly suddenly sided with the protestors had been brought. I got back to the hotel quite late. Public transport had come to a halt, and taxi drivers were too afraid to take foreigners since revolutionary checkpoints had sprung up throughout the city. At those makeshift barricades, foreigners were treated as potential enemies. Morsi had already been held for several days inside the military base near the small Rabaa al-Adawiya mosque. A massive crowd of his supporters had gathered outside. Staying where over time was extremely difficult. I had to prepare and send articles about the situation in Cairo, which was nearly impossible from a tent camp with no electricity or stable internet. That's when my local colleague, Ahmed Samir Assem stepped in, we agreed to take 10 to 12 hour shifts replacing each other so that both of us would have time to work on our stories and get some rest. If the situation about Rabaa al-Adiwiya began to escalate, the one on shift was supposed to immediately call the other. Ahmed never called me. I went down to the nearly empty hotel cafeteria that morning intending to grab a quick breakfast, but I never got to eat. The TV was blaring at full volume with breaking news. On the screen was Ahmed's photo, black and white. The voiceover reported that he had been killed about an hour early after the military began dispersing the pro-Morsi encampment. I rushed to Rabaa al-Adawiya. The mosque was on fire. Human bodies were scattered everywhere- dozens, maybe even hundreds. It was impossible to retrieve the dead or wounded anyone who approached the destroyed camp was shot from the fence surrounding the military base. To this day, no one knows the true number of people killed. At least a thousand, possibly several times more. Morsi died in prison a few years later, his closest allies were executed, fled the country, or were sentenced to long prison terms. Mohamed Morsi was not a Democrat, but he was elected president in the first and so far only free and fair elections in Egypt's history. In 2011, a popular revolution had forced his predecessor Hosni Mubarak to resign after nearly three decades of authoritarian rule.  Morsi and his Islamist supporters were not the main force or even one of the main forces behind with revolution, but they were quick to seize its momentum for their own game. Morsi made populist promises what were clearly impossible to fulfill immediately. He could not eradicate corruption. He could not quickly end poverty even though he promised to. He placed his hope in divine intervention and said so openly. The military, many of whom benefited directly from that entrenched corruption, tolerated his refo

June 12th Yuriy recounts the tragic divide within his own family due to the ongoing war, revealing the schizophrenic beliefs held by many Russians. He criticizes the contradictory narratives supported by the Russian government and highlights the dire consequences of these delusions on both personal and societal levels. You can email Yuriy, ask him questions or simply send him a message of support: fightingtherussianbeast@gmail.com   You can help Yuriy and his family by donating to his GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-yuriys-family   Yuriy’s Podbean Patron sign-up to give once or regularly: https://patron.podbean.com/yuriy   Buy Yuriy a coffee here: https://bmc.link/yuriymat  Subscribe to his substack: https://yuriymatsarsky.substack.com/  ----more---- TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)   It is June 12. A new soldier recently joined my military unit. He's fairly young, just over 30, and originally from Doneysk. Let me remind you, that's a Ukrainian city. Russia has occupied since 2014. Right after the occupation, this guy fled to the free part of Ukraine, but his father stayed behind in Donetsk, took Russian citizenship and eventually moved somewhere into Russia. Now that Father fervently supports the war against Ukraine, he even sends money to the occupying forces- donating part of his salary to units fighting the Ukrainian army. That means he's also funding the war against his own son. Sometimes this father writes to his son about how much he hates Ukraine and how he regrets having a child who doesn't understand that it's better to be Russian. He says Ukraine has no right to exist and that his willing to accept his own sons death if that's what it takes to destroy Ukraine. This is pure schizophrenia -to wish so obsessively for the destruction of the entire country that you'd be willing to sacrifice your own child for it. And there are millions of people like him. Another kind of schizophrenia is believing that the war will end soon and everything will go back to how it was before- Russians will travel freely to Ukraine again, Ukrainians will forgive them and they will be genuine peace. That's the delusion world. My brother, for example, lives in. He recently wrote to our uncle in Kharkiv, a city bombed daily, saying that as soon as the war ends, he'll come and help rebuild it, and that our uncle should wait for him because he's coming soon. What's interesting is that the Russian government supports both of these schizophrenic delusions even though directly contradict each other. Putin regularly spouts nonsense about how Russians are destined to be friends with what he calls "the Ukrainian part of Russian people" while one of his goons, someone like Medvedev, will immediately follow up with claims that Ukrainians will be completely wiped out and forgotten by history. Schizophrenia in its many forms has become the norm in Russia. They are consumed by madness, the entire society. Putin has turned his country into massive asylum for deranged. These madmen are allowed to do anything to kill and rape Ukrainians, to loot and burn down entire cities to believe that it'll soon end and through peace will return like in the distant past, the only thing we're not allowed to do is question the war- to question whether the killing and raping is really necessary. Tragically, the western world still tries to engage with these extremely dangerous lunatics as if they were ordinary people who just have a political disagreement with Ukrainians, but we have a disagreement, not with us, but with reality itself. And we're proud of it. While your politicians keep dancing before the chief murder and looter before the chief 21st century schizoid man.