Part 1: Ostap on his experiences with Kraken
Ostap: Anything could happen. There just weren’t that many people around—many had left. And, generally, a lot of people were allowed to pass, let go. Though some were simply shot in their cars right in the middle of the road.
Everyone was scared, not knowing what to do. In the first days of the war, everyone feared sabotage and reconnaissance groups. People kept saying they were in the city, that you had to be careful, not take off your body armor.
Honestly, I never saw a single one. And I don’t know anyone who actually did. But everyone was extremely frightened, expecting them to be behind every bush.
In reality, it wasn’t quite like that. Operating in such groups is highly complex—it requires long training. It’s not simple. There were these “urban legends” that they were everywhere, but what it was really like—I don’t know. Maybe they were somewhere.
They weren’t targeting the kinds of things people expected. You know—in Kyiv, buses were shot at, ambulances too. Often out of fear. Someone would say, “That’s a sabotage group,” and that was it—grab a weapon and go. These are stories everyone knows.
I: I’ll translate what “DRG” means.
Ostap: It’s a Ukrainian sabotage and reconnaissance group. I’m not sure how best to say it in English.
I: [translates into English]
Ostap: There were lots of stories like that. In the early days, people said things like: “There’s a building over there, a window, an apartment on some floor—there’s a guy signalling, something is flashing.”
We went there—and it turned out he just had a TV mounted near the ceiling. He was watching it, and it was flickering—that’s all. But people were already saying he was sending signals…
There was a lot of that.
I: [translates into English]
[in English] This was a very common mistake at the beginning of the war. I personally had a similar situation. Once I thought a guy had an explosive device, so I called the police. They came, searched for him. When they found him, they detained him, but later released him because nothing illegal was found.
Ostap: Well, you see—it’s better to double-check.
I: Yes, absolutely.
Ostap: It’s cheaper that way.
Eventually, things kind of settled into place. But it didn’t happen quickly.
I: [translates into English]
Vic: [in English] So there are fewer cases like that now?
I: [translates into Ukrainian]
Ostap: There’s none of that anymore. People understood how things actually work. They stopped scaring themselves. Time passed, and everyone realized there was no need to fear those “marks.” Remember those?
They did exist—some were russian—but to a large extent it was just psychological operations. In reality, the russians didn’t have enough people at the start of the war to mark everything massively. It worked more as an idea—that they were marking everything and we should be afraid.
I: Wow, so it was just intimidation?
Ostap: I don’t know. Personally, on February 25, I went up to the roof to look for those marks. My neighbors did too. It really worked—I had about ten people gathered, all searching for them.
Now it’s gone, thankfully. People calmed down, adapted. Though how you even come to terms with all this—I still don’t know.
I: People get used to anything, unfortunately.
[translates into English]
Vic: [in English] I think Lviv is a bit paranoid right now because less than a week ago there was a terrorist attack. Police responded to a break-in call at a shop—there was an explosion. Then another unit arrived—and another explosion happened. A few days later, another bomb was found.
So I constantly see messages in chats and channels about suspicious packages and people. Everyone is very tense.
Ostap: [in English] Well, yes—that’s a terrorist act. That’s terrorism as it is. Typical russian tactics.
Vic: [in English] Yes.
I: [in English] I would also add that a few weeks before that incident, Lviv emergency services received over 2,500 calls about alleged explosive devices in various places. Every time they responded, all of them turned out to be fake.
So when that call came in, they treated it the same way—thinking it was another fake. But this time it was real.
It was planned deliberately—to scare people.
Vic: [in English] I think they paid someone from another Ukrainian city. I don’t remember which one.
I: [in English] From Kryvyi Rih. And they didn’t even really pay her—they only covered the materials for making the bomb. They promised her $2,000.
Vic: [in English] That’s not much.
I: [in English] When the police asked why she did it, she said she needed money to pay off her debts. But it’s terrible.
Ostap: It’s like with car arsons. They’d find someone and give small tasks—first for $10, then $100, then eventually promises of $5,000.
Of course, no one ever saw that $5,000. That’s how it goes.
I: [translates into English]
Vic: [in English] I’ve seen that they target younger people, encouraging them to burn cars and military equipment.
Ostap: Yes. There was a period when it was widespread. We were worried—you could park your car and not find it later. You could drive through the city and see burned cars.
Then it faded. I don’t know why—maybe they ran out of money or out of fools. Thankfully, cars didn’t run out.
I: Yeah, touch wood.
[translates into English]
Ostap: [in English] Russia is a terrorist state using terrorist methods.
[in Ukrainian] God, forgive us—why is all this happening to us?
Vic: [in English] I volunteered with a group in Kyiv. They dehydrated meat and food for soldiers and sent it to the front. They also worked with a school—kids drew pictures and made small dolls to send.
Did you receive things like that?
I: [translates into Ukrainian]
Ostap: You mean children’s drawings?
I: No, everything together.
Ostap: Yes. I have some drawings in the last dugout—they were hanging there. I don’t know where they came from, but they appeared somehow.
As for volunteer aid—yes, we still get it. Though I haven’t seen dry rations for a while. I know they make something like dried borscht.
Overall, volunteer support is still felt. It’s always nice, always motivating. We have children’s drawings hanging since 2022. Half the people have changed, but the drawings are still there.
I: Wow.
[translates into English]
Vic: [in English] Do children’s drawings motivate you?
I: [translates into Ukrainian]
Ostap: More than what?
I: More than volunteer aid.
Ostap: It’s all part of one whole. I can’t say one motivates more than the other.
I: [translates into English]
Vic: [in English] Do you ever take drawings with you?
Ostap: Before Ruska Lozova, before an assault, someone brought us children’s bead bracelets—blue and yellow. There was a note and a bracelet.
I took one, put it in my vest pocket—and it’s still there. The note is gone, but the bracelet remains.
I don’t know why I did it.
I: Probably felt right.
Ostap: If I’m still alive, then everything was done right. It was from a 10-year-old girl.
Maybe it protects me—I don’t know.
I: [translates into English]
Vic: [in English] Do your battle buddies have similar things?
Ostap: I think so. But people don’t really talk about it. Everyone has their own little things—personal ones.
Many have lucky charms or amulets. It’s normal.
I: [translates into English]
Vic: I spoke with a soldier who had a molfar who blessed his bracelet before going to the frontline.
I: Are those red bracelets popular?
Ostap: From a molfar? I thought that was a Jewish thing.
I: Two different things. [laughs]
Ostap: Yeah, people wear them until they wear out…
I: Yeah, that thing.
Ostap: I remember reading about someone in Dnipro—Korban—he said it’s a Jewish tradition.
Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t seen anyone here wear one.
I: Many people now just see it as a good-luck charm.
Ostap: It has some origin, roots—I don’t know where from. Maybe molfars.
I: So it’s popular?
Ostap: Like I said—I haven’t seen it. They say there are no atheists under fire—but I don’t believe that.
I: [translates into English]
Vic: [in English] I met a girl, and her boyfriend is a soldier. He was sleeping in an abandoned building, and when he woke up, there was a woman wearing a traditional embroidered shirt—a Ukrainian national outfit. She told him that he needed to leave the building.
He left the house, and shortly after that, a missile hit the building. Later, he asked people if anyone knew this woman, but no one had ever seen her.
He believes it was a spirit that came to warn him to leave the building.
Have you ever heard similar stories?
Ostap: Honestly, I believe the story.
Vic: [in English] I think these stories just circulate.
Ostap: [in English] Yes, but intuition works very well sometimes.
Vic: [in English] Maybe he heard the missile.
Ostap: [in English] If you hear a missile—it’s either yours or you’re already dead.
Ostap: Intuition is very helpful. When you listen to yourself, it doesn’t matter what conditions you’re in. I’ve never had any such phenomena or spirits. But there was a moment near Kupiansk when I was just walking along a path, carrying something. And suddenly I felt like I should crouch—no sound, no signal, nothing. I crouched, and right where I would have taken another step, a huge fragment fell. Why did I feel like crouching? I was just walking. That’s it. But it could have been completely different.
Intuition. It’s important to listen to yourself. Sometimes you need to crouch, sometimes you need to move to another building or dugout. Maybe it works. And from what I see with people—it does work. It can’t really be explained. It’s not like some spirit comes down and says, “Okay, man, do this.” No. But sometimes there’s just a feeling that you need to do something differently—and it’s not always random.
I: [translates into English]
Ostap: It happens.
I: I feel like we’ve met before. Were you in Lviv in 2022?
Ostap: I don’t remember.
I: Or 2023—“Country SOS”?
Ostap: Yeah, I stopped by a couple of times.
I: Then we definitely crossed paths.
Ostap: I believe you.
Ostap: It was quite a movement back then. He did great work.
I: He burned out eventually.
Ostap: He started strong, then things declined. I don’t know why.
I: In general, it’s not because they did anything wrong, but rather because there is no longer that level of need.
Ostap: Yeah.
Vic: [in English] I think this is the final question. Do soldiers like stories such as the Ghost of Kyiv or the story about a woman who shot down a drone with a jar of pickles?
Ostap: Yes—military mythology.
Vic: [in English] Do soldiers believe them?
Ostap: I’m just trying to think of the best way to put it. In reality — yes, they do like those stories, but they probably have a much sharper sense than civilians of what is real and what is fictional. They work directly on the ground and know what things actually look like, so they’re not that easy to mislead — for the most part.
So I wouldn’t say there are people gathering and telling stories about the “Ghost of Kyiv” or anything like that; I’ve never heard of it. These are simply people doing their jobs, who understand how everything works and what needs to be done.
In general, these kinds of stories aren’t particularly important for the military. But for civilians, in my opinion, they might be more needed — perhaps as a form of psychological relief.
I: I agree.
[translates into English]
Ostap: Soldiers are quite cynical. The romantic ones are mostly gone.
I: Soldiers?
Ostap: That’s normal. You can’t avoid becoming cynical in the field.
I: [translates into English]
Vic: Thank you so much.
Ostap: Thank you.
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