These new recruits are not ordinary soldiers, because just a few months ago, they were behind bars, serving sentences in Ukraine’s prison system.
These men belong to the 5th Assault Company of the 1st Independent Assault Battalion of Ukraine, named after the late commander Dmytro Kotsiubailo, also known by his nickname “Da Vinci.” They are part of Ukraine’s prisoner-to-soldier transition program, a new initiative designed to address the ongoing Ukraine military manpower shortage by recruiting former inmates into active military service.
A year and a half after Russia began supplementing its ranks with ex-convicts, Ukraine—facing a severe shortage of soldiers and struggling to recruit enough soldiers through mobilization and civilian recruitment—turned to prisoners. In May 2024, the Ukrainian parliament passed a law allowing prisoners to serve in the military, a move seen as essential to continue fighting in the Donbass conflict in 2025.
Unlike recruiting civilians, convicts are recruited on a voluntary basis, though those serving sentences for serious crimes such as rape, mass murder, or crimes against Ukraine’s national security are not allowed to join. As of July 2024, approximately 3,800 former prisoners had been recruited and assigned to existing combat units, including the 5th Assault Company.
Vadym, the 26-year-old sergeant, is no stranger to teaching the basics of infantry tactics to recruits. However, many of the men he trains are not typical recruits. They are former prisoners, part of a Ukrainian prisoner recruitment strategy that aims to rebuild Ukraine’s defense forces with a unique mix of soldiers.
Vadym notes that when prisoners join the unit, “a new energy appears.” They bring with them a raw determination that is often absent in those who have no history in the prison system. But, just as quickly as the energy rises, discipline becomes a challenge. The transition from prisoner to soldier is complex, and the prisoner-to-soldier transition in Ukraine involves more than physical training. It requires shedding the mentality that often develops in prison life.
When the lecture ended, the ex-prisoners were given a lunch break before the scheduled shooting training session. The food they ate now was very different from what they used to get in “the zone” (the term for post-Soviet prisons), cooked by themselves in a much freer environment. It was symbolic of the new life they were starting in the military, fighting on the front lines of the Donbass conflict.
Some, like Oleksii “Blondie,” 25, were serving sentences for robbery at a young age. “I want to be released, not as a convicted man, but to return home as a hero,” he shared. Oleksii had briefly participated in combat missions in Kharkov province, fighting during Russia’s re-invasion of the region in 2024. Now, he wants to fight for Ukraine—not just as an ex-convict, but as a soldier with a future.
As the battalion prepares to fight against the backdrop of an escalating Russian offensive south of Donetsk, these recruits are determined to prove themselves. Their personal stories of hardship and transformation are intertwined with Ukraine’s broader struggle to defend its borders in the Donbass region.
Further down the village road, Volodymyr, nicknamed “Champion,” was still adjusting to his new role. Previously imprisoned for armed robbery, Volodymyr now carries a Czech-made rifle and is in charge of security at the company’s base. In 2024, after writing to the President asking for forgiveness, he was granted a second chance to serve his country. “I cannot compare to the others in the army,” he admitted, “but this is my opportunity to change. I want to live a meaningful life.”
Despite the transformation of many ex-prisoners into soldiers, discipline remains an issue. One of the recruits was found hiding alcohol, and despite the strict ban on alcohol for ex-prisoners, the issue was swiftly addressed by Vadym. As he explains, eliminating the “prison mindset” is just as crucial as tactical training when it comes to these recruits’ survival on the battlefield.
In fact, Vadym continues to stress the need for discipline and unity in the unit. “We have a common problem,” he states. “There are still people who keep the same lifestyle and thinking as when they were in prison. These ways of life must be left behind. We start a new life, and now it’s time to prove ourselves.”
The recruits, who once lived behind bars, now have to adjust to the demands of army life, where teamwork and discipline are critical. This is especially true for those like Oleh “Udav,” 47, who served a sentence for robbery. Oleh, who is learning battlefield tactics by watching YouTube videos on combat, is driven by the hope of reuniting with his daughter after the war.
As they prepare for their first combat missions, these men—once prisoners—are learning the skills necessary to survive in the chaos of war. The ex-prisoners in Vadym’s unit are no longer defined by their past mistakes; they are now soldiers in the fight for Ukraine’s future. Whether or not they will be recognized as heroes when the war ends, many hope that their transformation from criminals to soldiers is more than just symbolic. It’s a chance to change their lives forever.
These recruits are a part of the larger Ukraine military manpower shortage solution, but they’re also individuals with stories of redemption. Despite the challenges they face, these men are committed to fighting for Ukraine, and in doing so, they are rewriting their own narratives.
