In the open bed of a pickup truck, half a dozen soldiers were bouncing along a country road in eastern Ukraine when one of them yelled, "Drone!" They all opened fire with their rifles, yet hitting the tiny, swerving speck carrying death was all but impossible.
Buzzing in fast, within seconds it was only about a yard away. In that moment, captured on a helmet camera on a crystalline spring day, the soldiers seemed doomed. In a desperate act of self-defence, one of them, an American, Private Zachary Miller, hurled his empty rifle at the drone — and missed, he said in an interview.
They may never know why, but at the last moment, it veered away, sparing them. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" the soldiers shouted, in English, in the video, which was later posted online by the Ukraine military.
The flow of American volunteers like Private Miller serving in the Ukrainian military dwindled but never stopped after the initial wave that followed the Russian invasion in 2022. Independent estimates of the number of Americans volunteering since 2022 have varied widely, from more than 1,000 to several thousand. The Ukrainian military does not release figures.
But over time, the makeup of American volunteers has shifted, with higher proportions of people who have no military background, are older or are US veterans seeking to restart military careers closed off to them at home because of age or injuries.
Interviews with American enlistees, aid workers who help them and their Ukrainian commanders reveal an array of motivations. Some come looking for purpose and possibilities they found lacking in dead-end jobs back home. Outrage at Russian aggression remains high on the list of reasons, while some soldiers are looking for a way to leave behind troubled lives. Still others want second chances at military careers and to test themselves in combat.
Several said they intended to remain in Ukraine after having helped defend the country, expecting to find opportunities unavailable in the US.
Whatever their reasons, enlistment in Ukraine has transformed this from a far-off conflict to a searing, defining experience for American volunteers. Many have experienced close calls as Private Miller did, grievous wounds, the deaths of comrades and drawn-out deployments in trenches and the ruins of cities.
For Private Miller, 38, Ukraine offered an opportunity to resume a military career that he said was cut short more than a decade ago by injuries from a roadside explosion in Iraq and a motorcycle accident that led to his discharge from the US Army. "I never wanted to get out," he said. "It's the only thing I ever wanted to do."
Another American soldier, still moving stiffly from wounds, settled his lanky frame into a booth at a coffee shop in eastern Ukraine. His dishevelled, strawberry blond hair and scruffy beard partly covered scars and a jaw that seemed slightly off centre, mementoes of Russian shrapnel.
Weeks of lonely recovery in a Ukrainian hospital followed his injury, being cared for by doctors and nurses who spoke little English.
The injured soldier asked that his name not be published to comply with security rules of the unit he is serving with. He uses the call sign Alabama for his home state, where he worked as a welder before enlisting in late 2023. He has fought in urban and trench combat, and said he had served alongside American men and women who were mostly from small towns and saw little opportunity there, and with US military veterans who regretted missing a chance to see combat in Iraq or Afghanistan.
He was motivated, he said, by a chance to fight for a just cause, and also by the Ukrainian government's promise of four acres of free land to anyone, Ukrainian or foreign, who serves in the military and survives the war.
On a recent night, Junior Sgt. Glenna Manchego, 24, a paramedic from Tooele, Utah, and a US Navy veteran, stood over a gurney in a field hospital, assisting with the amputation of a Ukrainian soldier's foot. Back in the US, she said, "people forgot we are here".
She volunteered in March 2022, motivated, she said, by news reports of Ukrainian cities being bombed and a knowledge that her medical skills could help, and has served continuously ever since. She was wounded in combat. She intends to remain in Ukraine after the war. Back home, she said, "if they think of Ukraine, it is only 'When will it end?' or 'Have they given up yet?'"
She wears a patch with the words "Lost Generation" written in Ukrainian, a nod to the US soldiers who remained in Europe after World War I. In Ukraine, she said, "I've sweated my sweat and shed my blood".
New York Times News Service