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This article contains distressing details about suicide and military losses.
Families question official accounts of soldier deaths
A growing number of Ukrainian families are challenging the military's classification of soldier suicides, alleging systemic failures and a lack of transparency in investigations. While Ukraine publicly honors combat fatalities, those who die by suicide receive no state compensation, military honors, or public recognition, leaving grieving relatives feeling abandoned.
Recruitment and deployment under scrutiny
Kateryna, whose surname has been withheld, struggles to discuss her 25-year-old son Orest without breaking down. Initially deemed unfit for service due to poor eyesight at the war's onset, Orest was later stopped by a recruitment patrol in 2023 and reassessed as "partially fit" for combat. Within months, he was deployed to Donetsk as a communications specialist. According to the military's official investigation, Orest died from a "self-inflicted wound"-a conclusion his mother vehemently disputes.
"Orest was caught, not summoned," Kateryna said, her voice trembling with anger. "The state took my son, sent him to war, and brought me back a body in a bag. That's it. No help, no truth, nothing."
The local recruitment center denied any wrongdoing, stating that Orest's vision met wartime fitness standards. However, Kateryna describes her son as increasingly withdrawn and depressed after his deployment near Chasiv Yar. She has written 650 letters to him since his death, her grief compounded by the stigma surrounding suicide in Ukraine.
No official statistics, but advocates suspect hundreds
Ukrainian officials describe soldier suicides as "isolated incidents," with no public data available. Yet human rights advocates and bereaved families estimate the numbers could be in the hundreds. Olha Reshetylova, Ukraine's Commissioner for Veterans' Rights, reports receiving accounts of up to four military suicides monthly. "They've seen hell," she said. "Even the strongest minds can break."
Reshetylova's office is pushing for systemic reforms, including improved military psychology units, but acknowledges progress will take years. Meanwhile, families like Mariyana's-who also requested anonymity-feel betrayed by the state. Her husband Anatoliy, a volunteer with no prior military experience, was repeatedly turned away before finally being accepted in 2022. Deployed as a machine-gunner near Bakhmut, he returned from a mission where 50 soldiers were killed, visibly traumatized. After losing part of his arm, he took his own life in a hospital yard following a call with Mariyana.
"The war broke him," she said. "He couldn't live with what he'd seen."
Because Anatoliy died by suicide, officials denied him a military burial. "When he stood on the front line, he was useful. But now he's not a hero?" Mariyana asked bitterly. She now relies on an online community of widows whose husbands died by suicide, where they share their grief and advocate for legal changes to grant their families the same rights as other fallen soldiers.
Stigma and systemic failures
Viktoria, from Lviv, faces similar challenges. Her husband Andriy, who had a congenital heart condition, insisted on joining the army as a reconnaissance driver. He witnessed intense battles, including the liberation of Kherson, before dying by suicide in June 2023. Viktoria was denied the right to see his body and later discovered inconsistencies in the military's investigation. After hiring an attorney, she secured a promise from the military to reopen the case. "I'm fighting for his name," she said. "He can't defend himself anymore. My war isn't over."
Oksana Borkun, who runs a support network for military widows, says her organization now includes about 200 families affected by soldier suicides. "If it's suicide, then he's not a hero-that's what people think," she explained. "Some churches refuse to hold funerals. Some towns won't put up their photos on memorial walls."
Many families distrust official explanations, with some reporting unexplained bruises on their loved ones' bodies. Military chaplain Father Borys Kutovyi, who has counseled soldiers since the full-scale invasion began, said even one suicide represents a systemic failure. "Every suicide means we failed somewhere," he said, noting that recruited soldiers-unlike career servicemen-are often psychologically unprepared for combat.
Calls for reform and recognition
Advocates like Borkun and Father Borys argue that soldiers who die by suicide should be recognized as heroes. Reshetylova echoed this sentiment, emphasizing the need for societal compassion. "These people were your neighbors, your colleagues," she said. "They've walked through hell. The warmer we welcome them, the fewer tragedies there will be."
For now, families like Kateryna's and Mariyana's continue to demand accountability, transparency, and an end to the stigma that leaves their loved ones forgotten. As Reshetylova put it: "Families have a right to the truth."
