We're looking at a set of documents today for
this deep dive that really, I mean, it forces
you to completely recalibrate how you think about
the word readiness. Yeah, it really does. Because
we are diving into the history of the 39th Motorized
Infantry Battalion, which is often called Dnipro
II. And, you know, usually when you look at military
history, you focus on the big arrows on the map,
right? The grand strategy. The macro level stuff.
Sure. Exactly. But this source material is different.
It's incredibly gritty. It's about a specific
group of neighbors who mobilized in 2014 and
just the absolute logistical nightmare they walked
into. It is a fascinating and, frankly, just
a very heavy case study. We are tracking the
life cycle of this unit from its, well, its pretty
chaotic formation in May 2014, straight through
some of the most intense combat of the early
Russo -Ukrainian War, down to its eventual transformation,
and then its absorption into the 55th Artillery
Brigade in 2016. And right off the bat, I want
to address the elephant in the room regarding
their equipment. Because I was looking at the
logistics report for... June 2014, so this is
right when they are deploying to the front line.
And the numbers just didn't make any sense to
me. I had to reread it. You're looking at the
discrepancy between their heavy metal and their
personal protection. Exactly. The battalion had
managed to secure 39 armored personnel carriers.
BTRs. Right, BTRs. Now, for those listening who
maybe aren't armor geeks, these are the eight
-wheel amphibious vehicles, usually BTR -60s
or 70s in this specific context. Yeah. And they
aren't tanks, obviously, but they are substantial
machines. They're designed to carry a squad into
battle, support them with heavy machine gun fire.
And they had 39 of these. Which is a lot. That
implies a fairly high degree of mechanization
for a volunteer unit. That is a serious amount
of firepower and mobility. It is. But here is
the kicker. For the entire battalion operating
those 39 vehicles, plus all their support staff,
they had exactly 10 bulletproof vests. 10. It's
a terrifying ratio. And I think we really need
to pause on the tactical implications of that
because it's not just about workplace safety,
right? It dictates how you actually fight. How
so? Well, a BTR is essentially an armored taxi.
Its job is to get the infantry to the fight where
they dismount and engage. But BTR armor is thin?
It will stop small arms fire, but a heavy machine
gun or an RPG goes right through it. Which is
why you always see that footage of soldiers riding
on top of them, right? Precisely. You ride on
top to avoid the concussion inside if the vehicle
hits a mine. Right. But if you are riding on
top without body armor and you take shrapnel
or sniper fire, you are a casualty instantly.
Yeah, you're totally exposed. And if you dismount
to fight... You're doing it naked, effectively.
So having 39 BTRs but only 10 vests means your
infantry cannot effectively support the vehicles.
Which means the vehicles become vulnerable. Exactly.
They become vulnerable because the infantry is
too exposed to push out and protect them. It
completely paralyzes your tactics. So how does
this actually happen? I mean, we aren't talking
about the 19th century here. This is 2014. How
does a modern state send a battalion to the front
line with disposed... disposable grenade launchers
in armored vehicles but they just forget the
Kevlar. This is where the source material gets
into the weeds of the bureaucracy, and it is
infuriatingly mundane. It wasn't that the vests
didn't exist anywhere in the world. It was that
the mechanism to buy them just broke down. The
Anti -Monopoly Committee? Right. The Verkhovna
Rada's Anti -Monopoly Committee suspended the
tender process for purchasing vests at public
expense. I have to stop you there because that
sounds absolutely insane to me. You have a war
kicking off in the east, Crimea is already gone,
and you have a committee in Kiev effectively
saying, quote, Hold on. We need to double check
the paperwork on this contract to make sure it's
fair competitive bidding. That is exactly what
happened. Wow. It is a classic example of peacetime
institutions failing to pivot to a wartime footing.
In peacetime, suspending a tender to prevent
corruption or monopoly pricing is good governance.
Sure makes sense. But in an emergency mobilization,
it's lethal. They were applying the logic of
a slow, transparent procurement process to a
situation that required immediate decisive action.
And the soldiers on the ground paid the price
for that strict adherence to procedure. They
did. But the source also mentions private donors,
though. Because I recall reading that there was
a huge volunteer movement in Ukraine at the time,
people crowdsourcing supplies, buying things
off the shelf. Why didn't that fill the gap for
Dnipro, too? It did for some units, absolutely.
But for the 39th, the source specifically notes
that promises made by local philanthropists in
the Dnipropetrovsk region simply went unfulfilled.
Do we know why? We don't. We don't know if that
was due to a lack of actual funds or just logistical
failures in getting the gear there, but the result
on the ground was the same. You had a battalion
of local guys. Right, because remember, Dnipro
II was a territorial defense battalion. That
means it was almost entirely composed of residents
from that specific oblast. Just neighbors, basically.
Yes, heading into the grinder with just their
uniforms. Let's talk about that territorial defense
designation for a second. Because I think there
might be a misconception that these were just
random guys running around with hunting rifles.
This was a formal legal structure, right? Yes.
These were the BTRO, the Battalions of Territorial
Defense. The order came down on... April 30,
2014, from Acting President Turchinov. Okay.
The idea was to quickly raise local forces to
guard critical infrastructure, guard the borders,
because the regular standing army had been just
severely hollowed out by decades of neglect.
So they weren't intended to be frontline assault
troops? Not at all. They weren't supposed to
be stormtroopers. They were supposed to be the
rear guard, holding checkpoints, securing bridges.
But as we know, in the summer of 2014, the concepts
of rear and front were... Extremely fluid. Very
fluid. They were mobilized in May. By June, they're
dealing with this massive vest crisis. And by
July, they are deployed near Volnovaka. Right.
And this is where the reality of the conflict
shifts violently from guarding checkpoints to
asymmetric warfare. You're referring to the incident
at Kamyanka. Yes. July 21st, 2014. This event
really marks the loss of innocence for the unit,
if you want to call it that. The report details
a minibus approaching a checkpoint. Again, put
yourself in the shoes of these guys for a minute.
They are locals probably just weeks out of their
civilian jobs. Yeah, accountants, mechanics.
Exactly. They are manning a roadblock near Kamianka.
They see a civilian vehicle, a minibus, approaching.
That is something they probably saw a hundred
times a day. And that familiarity is exactly
what the enemy exploited. Because the minibus
was loaded with explosives. A suicide attack.
Yes, essentially a VBIE, a vehicle -borne improvised
explosive device. Which is a tactic we usually
associate with insurgencies in the Middle East,
not necessarily a conventional war in Europe.
It really highlights the chaotic hybrid nature
of the fighting in 2014. It wasn't just artillery
duels across fields. It was deception. The bus
approached the checkpoint and detonated. And
five soldiers from the 39th were killed. Instantly.
And this goes back to our earlier equipment discussion.
Because against a truck bomb, a bulletproof vest
isn't going to save you anyway. No, it won't.
But the psychological impact of that attack,
realizing that literally anything rolling down
the road, any civilian vehicle could be a weapon,
that fundamentally changes how you operate. It
changes everything. You go from being a guy guarding
your neighborhood at a checkpoint to a soldier.
who has to view every single civilian as a potential
mortal threat. It hardens the unit very quickly,
and it happened right before they were thrown
into what was arguably the most catastrophic
engagement of the entire early war. We really
need to talk about Ilovaisk. Yeah. If you follow
this history at all, the word Ilovaisk carries
an immense amount of weight. It is synonymous
with tragedy. And the 39th was right there. They
were. On August 1st, the infantry and security
companies of the battalion transferred to the
Nagopelya district. And geographically, this
is critical. Extremely. Mando Gepilya is right
between Ilovaisk and Kutynikov. They established
a base camp there, effectively forming part of
the outer ring of the Ukrainian operation to
retake Ilovaisk. And just to set the stage for
you listening, Ilovaisk was a major railway hub.
Taking it would have cut vital supply lines to
the separatist stronghold in Donetsk. So the
Ukrainian command committed a lot of these volunteer
battalions. You had Donbass, Dnipro -1, and our
guys, Dnipro -2. to encircle the city. That was
the plan. But then the tables turned dramatically.
Russian regular forces crossed the border in
large numbers, and the besiegers suddenly became
the besieged. The 39th found themselves trapped
in what is now known as the cauldron. The source
material describes fierce battles during this
time, which honestly feels like a massive understatement.
It is an understatement. We're talking about
being surrounded on all sides, running low on
ammunition, with higher level command and control
essentially breaking down. And this desperate
situation leads... directly to the infamous Green
Corridor on August 29th. Now, for those who might
just think of a corridor as a road, this is a
negotiated diplomatic agreement, right? It was
supposed to be. The Russians and the separatist
forces allegedly agreed to let the Ukrainian
units withdraw in a column, provided they didn't
engage. A safe passage out of the encirclement.
That was the promise. But as we now know, it
was a trap. As the columns of Ukrainian vehicles,
trucks, buses, and those BTRs we talked about
earlier moved out into the open countryside,
they were engaged. Just completely ambushed.
Ambushed from pre -sighted artillery positions
and direct tank fire. It wasn't a withdrawal
at all. It was a shooting gallery. The source
mentions the Book of Memory, which tracks Ukrainian
casualties, and it lists the specific losses
for the 39th Battalion here. Eight soldiers killed
near Ilovusk. Eight confirmed killed from the
39th in that specific sequence. Yeah. But you
have to imagine the sheer chaos of that day.
In a situation like that, unit cohesion completely
breaks down. You have guys from the 39th jumping
onto any vehicle that's moving, maybe a truck
from the 93rd Brigade or a van from the Donbass
Battalion. Just trying to survive. Exactly. And
the BTRs, those 39 vehicles they started with,
many of them were destroyed or had to be abandoned
during the breakout. If you survive an event
like Ilovaisk, it permanently changes the DNA
of the unit. You simply aren't the same group
of guys who signed up in Dnipro three months
earlier. It's amazing they weren't disbanded
right then and there. A lot of units that went
through the Ilovaisk cauldron were deemed combat
ineffective afterwards and just folded. But the
39th kept going. They did keep going, but they
had to evolve. And I think this is the second
half of the story that often gets ignored. We
focus so heavily on the tragedy of 2014, but
the reconstruction of these units in late 2014
and 2015 is just as important. This is the reorganization
phase we see in the document. Yes. In November
2014, the territorial defense label gets officially
dropped. They are reorganized into the 39th Separate
Motorized Infantry Battalion. That sounds like
a subtle semantic shift to a civilian, but it's
actually a huge doctrinal shift, isn't it? It's
massive. A territorial defense battalion is essentially
a local militia equipped with light weapons.
A motorized infantry battalion is a regular formal
army component. Right. It implies standardized
logistics, standardized training and integration
into the larger command structure of the armed
forces. They were transferred directly to the
command of the 55th Artillery Brigade. Which
is one of the oldest and most respected artillery
units in Ukraine. So Dnipro 2 goes from holding
local checkpoints to what exactly? What is their
daily job now? Security for the big guns. Artillery
is the god of war. as the saying goes, but it
is incredibly vulnerable up close. Because it
sits miles behind the front lines firing over
the horizon. Exactly. But if enemy reconnaissance
units or special forces manage to slip past the
front lines and get to those artillery batteries,
the guns are toast. They can't defend themselves
well at close range. So the 39th becomes the
shield. Yes. Their job became protecting the
55th. screening the firing positions, setting
up defensive perimeters, ensuring the artillery
could operate and relocate safely. It's a much
more professional, specialized role. It requires
intense coordination. You have to pack up and
move when the guns move. You have to communicate
on the same encrypted radio networks. And you
have to understand artillery doctrine. Right.
It really shows that the Ukrainian military was
learning and learning rapidly how to take these
initial volunteer bursts of energy and integrate
them into a sustainable professional machine.
And that integration effectively signaled the
end of the 39th as an independent, standalone
culture. By 2016, the unit was officially disbanded,
or rather, fully absorbed. Right, they didn't
just all go home. No, they became a dedicated
security battalion specifically for the 55th
Brigade. They traded their unique, independent
Dini Pro 2 identity for institutional permanence.
I want to circle back to the human cost of this
entire journey, though. We talked about the five
men lost at Kamyanka, the eight lost in the breakout
at Ilovaisk. But the source gives us a final
tally for the 2014 to 2017 period. The Book of
Memory lists 28 individuals from the battalion
who lost their lives. 28. It's one of those numbers
that is small enough to comprehend on a human
level, but large enough to completely devastate
a community. If these men were all from the Dnepropetrovsk
region, that's 28 families in close proximity
to each other. And the community deeply felt
that loss. The source actually describes a memorial
ceremony held on December 8, 2018, in the city
of Dnipro. And it wasn't just a standard military
parade. No, it sounded deeply religious and civic.
Very much so. Chaplains from the Ukrainian Orthodox
Church of the Kiev Patriarchate were there, praying
not just for the fallen soldiers, but specifically
for the families left behind. There was a specific
award mentioned in the text that really caught
my eye. Bishop Simeon awarded the soldiers posthumously.
And the name of the award wasn't for valor or...
for bravery, like you might expect. What was
it? It was for sacrifice and love for Ukraine.
That phrasing is incredibly telling. Sacrifice
and love. It really feels like it circles back
to the very beginning of our conversation today.
Back to the equipment shortage. I think you're
absolutely right, because why do you sign up
to fight when you know there are no vests? Why
do you voluntarily get on top of a BTR knowing
you are entirely exposed to sniper fire? It isn't
because you're a professional soldier blindly
following orders, at least not in May 2014. No,
it's because of that love component the award
mentions. Love for your home, your block, your
city. That raw emotion is what bridges the massive
logistical gap when the state fails to provide.
But, and I think this is the critical tension
of this entire story, that love only gets you
so far. The award honors the sacrifice, but the
history of the 39th Battalion also serves as
a stark warning about relying on that sacrifice.
Exactly. Love doesn't stop shrapnel from an artillery
shell. Sacrifice doesn't magically replace a
secure, functioning supply chain. The men of
the 39th Battalion did everything that was asked
of them. They held the line. They endured the
encirclement at Ilovaisk. But the severe friction
between their willingness to serve and the state's
initial inability to equip them, that is the
real core of the story. It brings up a very provocative
thought about modern warfare that I want to leave
you with. We often fetishize the high -end technology,
right? We talk about the drones, the satellite
imagery, the precision missiles. The hardware.
The hardware, yeah. But the story of Dnipro 2
is a harsh reminder that at the very start of
a sudden crisis, it is often just regular people
in mismatched uniforms, driving civilian cars
or underarmored BTRs, desperately trying to buy
time for the slow bureaucracy to finally catch
up. And the ultimate cost of buying that time
is paid in human lives. Those 28 names on that
memorial list are literally the price of the
delay between a tender suspension in Kyiv and
the eventual arrival of proper gear on the front
line. So when you look at the legacy of the 39th,
it isn't just a unit history. It's a profound
lesson in the lethality of logistics. And a true
testament to the fact that while professional
armies fight wars, it is very often just local
neighbors who are the first to defend their homes.
The transformation from a group of guys sharing
10 vests to a highly professional security battalion
for an artillery brigade, it perfectly encapsulates
the painful maturation of the entire Ukrainian
defense effort. They learn those lessons in blood.
A very sobering but necessary look at the reality
on the ground. We're going to leave it right
there for this deep dive. It's a story that starts
with a bureaucratic spreadsheet error and ends
on the alley of heroes. Thanks for taking the
time to explore this with us. We'll catch you
on the next one.