From Combat to Captivity: A Russian Deserters Harrowing Journey Through Secret Military Prisons

In October 2022, Georgy, a 44-year-old father of three from the Moscow suburb of Lyubertsy, was drafted and sent to combat in Ukraine despite suffering from serious health issues and being strongly against war and violence.

After two unsuccessful attempts to escape and enduring two heart attacks, he ultimately deserted in May 2024. Currently residing in Europe with his family, Georgy is applying for political asylum.

One particularly traumatic aspect of his experience was his time in covert detention facilities where defectors were kept in harsh conditions.

President Vladimir Putin has denied the existence of specialized detention camps for military deserters.

According to independent media, nearly 16,000 soldiers have faced criminal charges for refusing to serve since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

The Farewell to Arms group and the InTransit crisis group confirmed Georgy’s account, though his last name has been withheld for his safety.

Georgy, trained as a civil engineer, never anticipated being conscripted. Having been diagnosed years prior with hypertension and a heart condition, he was classified as only “partially fit” for military duty. His nearsightedness had since deteriorated, and he had also suffered a broken foot.

When he was summoned to the military office in September 2022 under the pretense of “updating his records,” he thought it was merely a routine check.

“I left that morning believing I’d just show my ID and passport, verify a few details, and head to work,” he recalled. “But upon arrival, I noticed two lines: one for people like me and another for volunteers. Strangely, most volunteers were turned away, while they seemed eager for individuals like me.”

Within minutes, he received a mobilization order without any medical assessment. When he objected, officials assured him that a health check would occur later at his designated unit, which, in reality, never transpired.

Even his employer, a major construction contractor for the Moscow city government, was unable to intervene. Despite initial assurances of securing him a non-combat position, he was assigned as a rifleman and dispatched to a training camp.

“The training was ineffective,” Georgy remarked. “We fired a few rounds from decrepit rifles and spent the rest of the time wandering aimlessly. No one taught us anything substantive.”

In November 2022, he was sent to the 1855th Battalion and deployed to Ukraine, where officers assured soldiers they were part of an “elite Moscow unit” that would not face direct combat.

“They claimed, ‘Moscow will protect you.’ It was all false,” Georgy stated.

His initial impressions of Ukraine were bleak.

“It was utter chaos — reminiscent of the German army marching on Moscow in 1941, albeit with different uniforms. Late fall, rain, mud instead of roads, and devastated villages… a land torn apart by conflict,” he reflected.

He remains haunted by a speech from his regiment commander, Alexander Zavadsky.

“You came here to die,” Georgy quoted Zavadsky as saying. “Want to go home? Then leave in a body bag.”

Shortly thereafter, Zavadsky received the “Hero of Russia” award from Putin.

After enduring weeks of sleeping in the forest without shelter or supplies, Georgy knew he must flee. Seizing upon the disorder at the front line, he managed to hitch a ride on a military truck to the town of Troitske.

“When asked for a password at checkpoints, I would just shrug, and they let me pass. Most of the guards had recently been drafted themselves and were unsure of their duties,” he explained.

When attempting to cross back into Russia, Georgy and several fellow deserters were ambushed. A patrol helicopter opened fire, resulting in the death of two men. The surviving soldiers were captured and handed over to military police, who cautioned them to forget what they had seen.

“I thought they were taking me to Zaitsevo, notorious for detaining deserters. But we ended up in a basement in Rozsypne,” Georgy recalled.

Rozsypne, a repurposed Ukrainian border post, was an unofficial prison for Russian soldiers attempting to escape.

“It was horrifying,” he said. “The floors were sandy, the walls were stained with blood, and we slept on wooden cots. There were two sections: one for ‘re-education’ — where I was placed — and another for the ‘undesirables.’ We had to clean up blood in that section. It was everywhere, even on the ceiling.”

Prisoners received minimal food—barely enough to survive—and were allowed to use the restroom only twice a day. Those who refused to return to the front were subjected to beatings and torture.

“They used electric shocks and punched us in the stomach — just enough to inflict pain without leaving visible bruises. The ‘undesirables’ were executed on the spot. We could hear their screams through the walls,” Georgy recounted.

The stress and mistreatment took a toll on his health. Georgy suffered a heart attack but was saved by a sympathetic local doctor, himself a former defector, who prescribed him bed rest and medication.

“Again, it felt like a time warp. People were mistreated, beaten, tortured there. It was distressing to witness such brutality in the 21st century,” he expressed. “I’m from an older generation. We were raised to believe that during World War II, we stood against evil fascists. It turns out we have our own form of evil, embedded within our system. The individuals who tortured us received orders and were trained for it. While propaganda claims that there are fascists in Ukraine, we have our version of the Gestapo here as well.”

Eventually, after conforming to his superiors’ demands for him to “repent” for deserting, he was sent to fight near the Russian-occupied city of Svatove with the infamous Storm Z squad.

An explosion nearby injured him again, breaking his leg, causing a concussion, and provoking another heart attack.

He was temporarily sent home to recuperate. However, realizing that going to a military hospital would mean being dispatched back to the front, Georgy went into hiding, spending nearly a year in a nearly deserted village in the Tula region.

In December 2024, during a rare visit to see his family in Moscow, he was ambushed by three plainclothes officers. Within hours, he found himself on a military transport bound for Russia’s Baltic exclave of Kaliningrad.

In Kaliningrad, he was detained in a military facility that was reportedly once a German SS barracks during World War II.

This facility was more structured than the makeshift detention centers Georgy had previously endured. Prisoners were kept in barracks under strict surveillance and escorted for meals.

“The only difference was that we were on the second floor and received three meals a day instead of two,” he remarked. “The torture was now psychological rather than physical.”

Inmates were presented with a grim choice: imprisonment or return to combat. Many who opted for prison, believing it to be a safer alternative, ended up redeployed regardless. When Georgy learned he was scheduled to be sent back to the front line, a bureaucratic error saved him—a prosecutor failed to submit his paperwork on time.

His long-requested medical evaluation was finally approved, but only after he agreed to vote for Putin in the March 2024 presidential election and submit a photo of his ballot.

Yet the prosecutor’s assistant insisted that doctors declare Georgy fit for service regardless. The only one to refuse was a cardiologist, who directed him to a hospital. However, even that did not alleviate his situation.

“In the hospital, they magically upgraded my status from ‘partially fit’ to ‘fit with minor restrictions’… Apparently, the walls have healing properties,” Georgy quipped.

Despite the prison-like atmosphere, inmates could still obtain alcohol and drugs through bribes. As Georgy abstained, he was deemed “well-behaved” and rewarded with “fresh air”: tasked with assisting in the construction of a villa for the regimental commander without compensation.

“There were no guards, just a major observing us. Some former convicts taught me escape techniques and provided civilian clothing. After a week, I climbed over the fence, called a cab to the airport, and flew to St. Petersburg.”

Following consultations with Idite Lesom (“Get Lost”), a group aiding Russian military deserters, Georgy traveled to Uzbekistan via Belarus. After a failed attempt to seek asylum in Spain, he made his way to Georgia.

Once authorities discovered his flight, they turned their focus to his wife, Oksana, who remained in Lyubertsy with their children.

“The investigators began calling in late June,” Oksana recounted. “They insisted his health was irrelevant, that he was finished, and the only way out was to surrender. I replied, ‘Your message has been received.’”

Law enforcement contacted their eldest daughter, who had just turned 18, threatening to visit the school of the younger children. In September, they raided their home with a search warrant.

“They confiscated all our devices,” Oksana said. “When they also raided my elderly parents’ home, I broke down. … When they came with a warrant again on Orthodox Christmas Eve, we decided to leave.”

Oksana departed from Russia in January and reunited with her husband in Europe after Georgi’s concerns regarding potential persecution following Georgia’s contentious November 2024 election. They are now awaiting a decision on their asylum application.

For the first time in over two years, Georgy expressed that his family finally feels a sense of safety, despite the uncertainties that lie ahead.

“The bureaucracy is daunting, but the people here are calm, welcoming, and compassionate. Leaving was challenging, but now our priority is raising our children to be part of European society,” he said.