My Time in the Ukrainian-Occupied Kursk Region of Russia

Due to the noise, chatting in the back of an American-made Humvee of the Ukrainian military as it rolled into Russia was challenging. But the ride still proved to be informative.

As hundreds of Ukrainian military vehicles fly back-and-forth on the destroyed road between Ukraine and occupied Russia, one notices that there is clearly a well-organized Ukrainian plan being executed which has caught the Russians totally off guard.

Aside from the stunning quantities of military hardware, supported by large amounts of soldiers, the Ukrainian side’s defenses appeared to be elaborate and vast. Land mine warnings are far more common throughout the area near Russia than are streets signs.

In contrast, on the Russian side of the border, one notices that there were only minimal amounts of defensive lines, adding credence to rumors that corrupt Russian officials had embezzled much of the money that had been allocated to defend Kursk Oblast against a Ukrainian attack.

Most of the letters that had once spelled out “Russia” have fallen off the border checkpoint. Now the Ukrainian military can speed through it without so much as slowing down.

Only a few minutes after entering Russian territory, about a dozen kilometers away, large explosions indicating that Ukraine was executing strikes could be seen as massive plumes of dark smoke lifted into the breeze.

Russian soldiers are typically warned that Ukraine is planning to carry out a strike on their position, and so they are offered an ultimatum: Surrender now or be destroyed, said one Ukrainian officer with whom we spoke. Smiling with satisfaction, he said that Russian soldiers, especially conscripts and Chechens, have been surrendered en masse.

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The industrial city, which had an estimated pre-war population of more than 700,000 people, lies around 35 kilometres from the nearest Russian positions.

In line with the White House’s policy banning the use of American donated weapons inside of the territory of Russia, we saw no American heavy weapons system, we noted a HIMARS pass us on the road in Ukraine. Only moments later, the sound of rockets flying into the sky, chased by a stream of white smoke was followed, not more than ten minutes later, by the HIMARS system rapidly egressing back, deep into Ukraine, out of range for most Russian systems.

Arriving in the city of Sudzha, sheep can be found grazing in the shade. Very few, if any, civilian vehicles were noticed on the streets littered by bullet casings, next to canned goods that looters likely had accidentally dropped.

Our Ukrainian guides indicated that commerce still existed in Sudzha. However, all the residents we encountered were out that day in search of food or water.

Social media often humorously lauds Ukraine’s incursion as the inception of the “Kursk People’s Republic,” but the reality on the ground is much less jovial. The city lacks electricity, internet, water, and apparently phone communications have been cut.

One old lady, with whom my colleague, Sergej Sumlenny of the European Resilience Initiative Center, said she was desperate to get into touch with her daughter and grandchildren, whom she had not had contact with since the Ukrainian invasion, so that they would know that she is alive.

Arriving to a central square in Sudzha, Kursk Oblast, Russia, looters could be seen scavenging through the grocery store. None of them appeared to be younger than 65 and each was filling up small grocery carts with non-perishable good. Now about two weeks without refrigeration, perishable goods have already rotted.

One woman approached me on the street, asking where water could be found. I indicated that I had seen other people looting bottles of something from a local store. She asked if I thought there would still be some left before she hurriedly headed off in that direction.

Farther down, one elderly lady, only a short distance from the store, was near tears as the dilapidated metal cart of groceries she was pulling lost a wheel. Chatting with her as we helped her to put the wheel back on, the woman did not exhibit any signs of being fearful of either us or the Ukrainian soldiers who were only meters away.

In fact, during our time in Sudzha, the local Russians never showed any signs of fearing the Ukrainian Army. The Ukrainians, to their credit, were polite and respectful to the Russians. The visceral rhetoric about Russia and Russians, which one often hears in Ukraine, was not voiced during any of our conversations with Ukrainian soldiers.

Kursk is historically a Ukrainian land, yet it was still surreal that two or three of the Russians, with whom I spoke in Russian, offered to switch to Ukrainian. In an ironic twist, my colleague, who is a native Russian speaker but insists on only speaking Ukrainian, was responded to only in Russian by the Ukrainian soldiers.

Most buildings in downtown Sudzha appear to have been damaged, but very few are destroyed. One notices that a memorial plaque to a “hero” of Russia’s “Special Military Operation,” as the Kremlin calls the invasion of Ukraine, has been destroyed. However, the World War II monument, only one minute away, is fully intact.

It is in the park next to the statue commemorating the “Great Patriotic War” that I encountered another couple who described the current situation as being “as if there is a war,” signaling that something good could not be expected during such times.

When pressed as to why Putin had not come to help them, the husband responded that “Putin is an asshole,” his wife shaking her head in agreement.

Asked if perhaps Putin had forgotten them, the man said that probably so – if Putin had ever thought about them in the first place.

Another older woman with whom I spoke made a noise indicating disgust, waving her hand away to indicate “get out,” in regard to Putin, whom she described as “an animal.”

The city administration building showed signs of having been on the receiving end of artillery. Like the other buildings opposite, it is lifeless. A neighboring building, presumably a school, seemed fully intact with a Russian flag still adorning its roof – likely a sign that Ukrainian soldiers did not lose time in taking the city before advancing further, unlike earlier raids when Ukrainians focused on getting good photo-ops.

Another woman, asked what she thought of Vladimir Putin, responded, “Ew, he’s a beast.”

Driving back toward the Ukrainian border, the soldier at the wheel of the Humvee described what “a surprise” it was to learn that they were destined to invade Russia, two weeks ago, something that only became apparent when they saw road signs indicating that they were then on Russian soil.

Perhaps even more of a surprise, according to another soldier with whom Kyiv Post spoke, was that Russian troops were so unprepared that many Russians decided to surrender without fighting.

One ranking Ukrainian officer with whom we spoke said that he was optimistic about the situation in Kursk Oblast. Reading through the lines of his broad smile betrayed that even he was surprised by how extraordinarily well the offensive in Kursk was going.

Asked what his troops lack, the officer contrasted the “horrific” situation only months ago, when the US had delayed aid for Ukraine, and said that now food and weapons were sufficient, but there was one especially important thing that Ukrainian troops need.

“Drones,” said the officer, which allow Ukraine’s soldiers to safeguard their lives by doing reconnaissance of Russian lines while keeping the enemy at bay.

At the end of our conversation, I promised the officer that Kyiv Post would insert, in this present article, this link (here), through which our readers could donate for the Ukrainian Military to get the drones it needs to save the lives of its warriors.