In a high‑security camp hidden behind iron‑clad walls in western Ukraine, a handful of men, all born within Ukrainian borders, are being held as prisoners of war for fighting on the side of Russia.

The men are from some of the city pops—St Petersburg, Yekaterinburg—yet many identify themselves as Russian, a claim that contradicts their birthplaces under Ukrainian sovereignty.

After Russian forces seized Donbas in 2014, the region’s population faced increasing pressure to adopt pro‑Russian sentiments. The coercion, propaganda, and economic incentives used by Moscow have led to a generation of men who now fight for a nation that occupies and reshapes their homeland.

Anton, born at ten near the Donbas border, signed up for the Russian army at eighteen when the war broke out. “I don’t regret my choice. I went to defend my land,” he says, reminding his listeners that his friends joined out of the same conviction, as did the millions who rallied on the Kremlin’s propaganda broadcasting.

Not all the prisoners are from the partially accredited cities. Some are from rural Donetsk, most of whom fought voluntarily, while a handful report being conscripted against their will, as the war’s pressure forces occupants into its ranks.

In the cramped park of the camp, men work to earn extra wages. They craft Christmas decorations and coffins to sell, funneling the proceeds into better food and cigarettes, revealing a micro‑economy that develops despite the war's devastation.

The camp also shelters wounded soldiers—Artyom, who lies in a corner hospital bed covered in shrapnel and regains only a small share of the 400,000 rouble fee promised at enlistment. The disparity between his treatment and that of other servicemen highlights the uneven policies of a regime fighting for a battlefield that has simultaneously destroyed forests, contaminated soils, and destabilized local ecosystems.

Even in such a bleak setting, a video titled “Myths about Crimea” plays on a loop, in stark contrast to the warlords’ muted reception. The campaign attempts small‑scale education, yet its effect is limited as POWs’ focus remains on survival.

Policymakers in Kyiv view these Ukrainian‑born soldiers as a low priority for exchange, meaning they may be the last to be returned should a ceasefire ever be brokered. Their status underscores a larger geopolitical strategy: by holding onto those whose identities are torn between nations, the war continues to reap economic, political, and environmental dividends for both sides.