“It’s Schrödinger’s military cat: until an official (or not) order comes, you’re both in the infantry and not.” A new part of the mobilization diary from an IT guy in Threads — about intimidation in the army, a grenade in the barracks, and redeployment
This is the fourth part of his observations — about intimidation in the army and the redeployment of the unit, not without surprises.
About intimidation in the military (with and without reason)
Evening, a little after ten. There are curses coming from the corridor. This is our deputy battalion commander lashing out at Kostyk (a fictitious name), a young man from the logistics platoon who had been through a lot that day and barely made it to the room. Kostyk usually drinks beer or cognac over dinner with Sanych (25 years older than him, an intelligent and kind man in thin-rimmed glasses and a well-groomed beard, who perceives Kostyk as an adult son), but he only drinks in his room and immediately goes to bed (as I understand, this is normal practice among the military). But not this time.
The deputy battalion commander can be heard in all the rooms. He takes out Kostyk, who is barely standing, with all his fury and contempt (or at least he pretends to, for effect). The much more sober Sanych, who has brought Kostyk down, tries very carefully to insert a few words as an older man to soften the deputy, but he himself falls under the deal and does not intervene any further.
Kostyk enters the room with a mischievous smile and the expression of a boy who broke his mother’s flowerpot and didn’t really get a kick out of it. He takes a long time to take off his shoes, falls asleep dressed, and begins to snore blissfully.
The main message of any verbal beating from a non-infantry soldier is the threat that tomorrow morning you will be in it: in a position in a trench (which you still have to reach alive), or worse, going alone to storm a captured village, where there are three enemy drones per person.
This is a universal multifunctional abuse, which in theory aims to induce a person to do one (or several) of the following:
behave within the framework of certain norms and rules;
to do something she does not want to do and is not obligated to do;
to do something she doesn’t want to do but is obliged to do;
to do what she (or no one else) can’t do;
to work harder/more carefully;
accept the authority of an elder;
simply serves as entertainment for the commander.
The magic of this intimidation is that you never know if it will actually happen and when. It’s Schrödinger’s military cat: until an official (or not) order comes, you are both in the infantry and not. The effectiveness of this approach is ambiguous: sometimes it works where it is «justifiably» provoked, other times the person is immune to change and no threats will take them. And sometimes it is very harmful where threats are completely unnecessary, which leads to stress, anxiety/depression, burnout, and ultimately SZCH.
And this is where a person was really necessary and effective. «Look at me, because you will go to the infantry.» This phrase often has no actual weight, not even any significant prerequisites and further consequences. It is automatic, it escapes from commanders unconsciously, like a parasitic word, as a reminder of the hierarchy and your place in it, dependence on the person above you, the uncertainty of your position, and ultimately as a reminder of the fragility of your life.
And Kostyk is still not in the infantry, but he has drawn conclusions.
About relocation to a new region
I was just getting used to serving in a big city when our battalion was moved to another region. It was done so quickly and unexpectedly that we had even less time to prepare for the move than the first time. That is why I was taken at the last moment to the PAZ with three other men and a bus full of things: from infantry bags to beds and «Prozora». All the staff scattered and got to the new place as best they could.
Since my commander was busy with relocation and had somewhat forgotten about me, I spent almost a week living with an infantry company in the barracks. This building in a tiny village had once been a school, and now the offices with portraits of famous figures were filled with numerous bags, bulletproof vests, and assault rifles, and in the corners, instead of punished offenders, stoves were heating lonely.
Everyone was horrified by the fact that the armored personnel carrier could not find a place for a long time and was driving awkwardly around the village, while almost 70 people had to be under one roof with ammunition.
Every evening, one of the cooks would turn on music I hadn’t heard since childhood. Once upon a time, these songs were on cassettes and played through the crackling speakers of my father’s Daewoo Lanos when we went on vacation to Crimea.
Presnyakov was replaced by Ani Lorak, after him Viagra, an unexpectedly terrible Russian chanson, lively Shakira, slow MakSim, and dozens of other songs that burst from the past with barely familiar memories, without titles or names.
Nearby, two guys were having a long discussion about whether AI is God, which really annoyed the cook. Someone was watching a 2000s cop action comedy without headphones, others were sleeping after the march, and one had downloaded at least 50 games, playing each of them for no more than half an hour.
On the first day, around one in the morning, someone came into the room:
— Five minutes and I’m waiting for the first person on duty!
Silence.
«Guys, f*ck, you’re all going to leave now! Am I saying something incomprehensible or what?»
Someone raised their voice, a conversation started. We were supposed to get a store and walk around the building, each for 15 minutes.
I had cleverly hidden my machine gun, which no one had seen, and I was already an office clerk, so after a discussion among myself, the others decided that I could continue sleeping (which was impossible due to the noise and constant snoring). I fell asleep around three, when our room was finished with its shift.
— GRENADE!
I wake up. It’s half past three. The room instantly fills with smoke. I was lucky that I slept with my clothes on and managed to run out quickly. Disgruntled people with coughing and machine guns rolled out into the freezing yard, where they stood for about forty minutes.
Those who forgot their machine gun in the room had to squat 300 times. Everyone else had to squat 150 times because they «itched for a long time.» In fact, no one squatted more than 30 times. I walked through the crowd and met the guys with whom I had been through the BZVP. During this time, they had managed to live in the VOPs and go through a couple more training sessions. Thin and tired, they already perceived this event as something ordinary. A person quickly gets used to everything.
Fortunately, it was my first and last sleepless night in this barracks.
«Don’t worry until you join me in the infantry. I’ll tell you when you have to go to the SZCH.» We continue to publish a mobilization diary from an IT guy from Threads — about the motivation to serve in the busified, the difference in service conditions for staff and infantrymen, and weapons in a blanket
«Individuality is not needed. And the more of you there are, the lonelier you are.» Mobilization diary from an IT guy from Threads — about BZVP, «NATO lip shots» and «playing stormtroopers»
«Do you know that you are already 200? Have you already bought yourself a black package?» In Threads, a mobilized IT worker keeps a diary of his service in the army — about communication with the TCC, thoughts on the SZCH and IT experience in the non-digital system of the Armed Forces of Ukraine
«А жінок чому випустили? Несправедливо». Айтішники - про заклик секретаря РНБО не ховатися за жіночими спідницями у відповідь на петицію про виїзд чоловіків
Нещодавно у РНБО відреагували на петиції про дозвіл виїжджати чоловікам з України. Таких петицій було вже три, і остання набрала необхідну кількість голосів для розгляду президентом.
Have important news to share? Message our Telegram bot
Key events and useful links in our Telegram channel
