Purpose Over Pathos: The People Behind Ukraine’s 2nd International Legion

Foreigners at the frontline are nothing new. And most people have at least heard of the International Legion. But few realize that there are four such legions in Ukraine. Still fewer understand how they actually operate.

This conversation touches on recruitment; discipline, which, it turns out, matters more than training; the evolving rules of warfare; and the diverse motivations and combat styles of those involved—from Colombian migrant workers and American veterans to the civilian planning model that’s proving effective on the front lines.

ZN.UA spoke about these topics with Pavlo Slavinskyi, Chief of Staff of Ukraine’s 2nd International Legion.

AK: Mr. Slavinskyi, your background is quite interesting—a blacksmith, a psychotherapist, a chaplain, and a veteran of the Anti-Terrorist Operation. How did you end up in the International Legion?
PS: It struck me as a compelling project with real potential. At the outbreak of the full-scale war, I served in the Special Operations Forces. In the spring of 2023, my young team and I transferred to the Legion.

AK: Were you disappointed? What stood out?
PS: Not at all. It’s an interesting story. The first distinctive feature is the presence of foreigners. The second, and perhaps the most important, is something the rest of the army no longer has: volunteers. It’s an anachronism from the early stages of the war. Every foreigner here came voluntarily. No one brought them by force or tried to persuade them.

There’s no patriotic grandstanding, no talk of “defending the homeland.” Some came for money; others to build up their service record; some to gain experience, to learn something new about warfare, technology or tactics. Some are here purely for the adrenaline rush, they’re drawn to the action, to shooting and moving. Others came to fight for freedom and justice. And some came simply to kill Russians. Their motivations are fascinating. That’s why I think the project is so dynamic. It has a future.

AK: In another interview, you mentioned that the Legion includes representatives from about thirty countries.
PS: That’s right. Usually just one or two from each, but overall—about thirty nationalities are represented.

AK: Which countries have the largest contingents? And do their motivations differ?
PS: Colombia and Brazil form one large bloc. Then there’s the US, the UK and various European countries. It’s roughly half and half—English speakers and Spanish speakers.

Their motivations are markedly different. When it comes to Brazil and Colombia, most of those who come are either migrant workers or, as we half-jokingly call them, cartel guys. In other words, men sent to acquire combat experience, usually aged 25 to 35. By contrast, the English speaking contingent tends to be made up of older men, often over 40. Many of them are veterans who came here to finish the fight they never finished in Iraq or Afghanistan.

AK: So, accordingly, their levels of training must differ?
PS: Honestly, it’s not really about training at all. For some reason, whenever we talk about a soldier’s ability to perform, we immediately refer to their training. But in reality, it’s far more about discipline and how clearly the mission is set. Virtually any task can be accomplished if two conditions are met: first, that the task itself is realistic; and second, that the soldier has the necessary resources. That begins with situational awareness—understanding what’s happening on the ground and how the enemy operates—and continues through to the second or even third echelon of support. It’s a complex, integrated effort, and it goes well beyond simply training a soldier. Take, for example, a team of four assault troops trying to retake a lost position. At a minimum, they need two drone units providing continuous visual coverage. They need mortar support. And ideally, an FPV drone should hit the trench first. Only then do the guys move in. To coordinate all of that, you need a functioning operations service: real-time communication, live video streams, the ability to issue orders instantly. That’s already a complicated system. And it has nothing to do with traditional infantry training.

AK: So you’ve built that entire system yourselves?
PS: Absolutely, we did. When you’re holding a defensive line and conducting active operations—whether restoring a position or repelling assaults—all the elements need to work in sync. We first encountered this challenge in Serebrianka. It took a huge effort to deal with it. We brought in IT specialists who understood how to build communications and integrate systems. Now our operational planning service is fully functional. That’s the formal term, but in practice it’s made up of civilians, not military, who are simply given clearly defined objectives. They complete them. And the system works. It’ll remain relevant well into the future.

AK: How many people are currently serving in the Legion?
PS: That’s classified. We’re a special-purpose battalion with additional capabilities.

AK: What’s the breakdown between Ukrainians and foreign volunteers?
PS: Roughly 50-50. About half are Ukrainians, and half are foreigners. That’s because a large portion of the personnel are in support roles—logistics, auxiliary services. But the infantry and many of the key specialists are foreigners.

AK: You mentioned discipline earlier. Which nationalities demonstrate the highest levels?
PS: The Americans and the British.

AK: We often hear stories about the Colombians—usually in the form of jokes, like: “They’ll shoot at anything, so our UAVs just try to avoid them.”
PS: If Colombians—or Americans, for that matter—are holding a key position and no one has told them that a friendly UAV is going to fly overhead, they’ll shoot at anything they see.
Because if it’s not explicitly identified as friendly, they’ll treat it as hostile. And that’s completely normal. If coordination is lacking, then, as we used to joke back in 2022, most of our drones get shot down by our own territorial defense units. So the issue here isn’t with the Colombians; it’s about discipline and coordination.

AK: And how do the forms of warfare differ today?
PS: You know the saying—armies tend to fight the war of the past. In 2022–2023, we entered the full-scale conflict with a mindset that resembled World War II—large formations, frontal assaults, holding ground. But things are changing fast. Back in 2023, the experience of the Americans and British was still relevant—urban assaults, coordinated operations with sizable units, like we saw in Bakhmut. But today the concept of hostilities is changing dramatically.
Drones—both ours and the enemy’s—rule the skies. Units have shrunk down to two, maybe four people. Heavy equipment has become largely irrelevant on the front line—it rarely reaches the contact zone and is usually destroyed en route. I can’t say for certain where all of this leads. But I do know this: the units that succeed will be the ones able to rethink how they fight in real time. Those who stay locked into old methods will lose people and positions. That goes for both the Russians and us. Of course, that’s just my personal view. But it’s what I see on the ground every day.

AK: Are the Americans and British still teaching us or are they now the ones learning?
PS: They’re learning. Back in 2022, they were the ones teaching us, but that’s over. Forget that chapter. Foreigners come here now to learn. And it doesn’t matter whether it’s a young recruit or an experienced private, a sergeant or a seasoned officer—they’ll tell you so themselves, quite openly.

AK: How long do foreign volunteers typically stay? The initial contract is for six months—do they extend it? And which nationalities are most represented?
PS: There are three categories of people. The first are those who don’t make it past the first two months. There’s a probationary period, and we have the right to terminate the contract from our side after two months. In other words, we assess them, they assess us. And if it’s clear that someone simply can’t function in the environment, we end it.

The second group are those who try to leave after their first or second combat experience.
Doesn’t matter if that’s three months in or six. They trained, they prepared, but when faced with the reality of battle, they do everything possible to get out, even by going AWOL. Foreigners are treated a bit differently there than Ukrainians. They can, quite literally, just buy a plane ticket and disappear.

Then there’s the third group—those who came with clear intent. They tested themselves, found their footing, established solid communication with their teammates and commanders, and they stay beyond the six-month mark.

There’s also a subgroup within that third category, the “travelers.” They fight for a few months, then say: “This is intense—I need to go home.” They return to Brazil, and within a month or two, they miss it and come back. We’ve got a few colorful characters like that who’ve already done the round trip multiple times.

AK: And which of these groups is the largest?
PS: The second, those who, once they encounter the reality of combat, try to get out. There are both subjective and objective reasons for this. Some are wounded and need time to recover. But alongside them are those who simply don’t want to continue. The second-largest group is those who stay long-term. The smallest—those we dismiss during the trial period.

AK: There’s talk that the Colombians have mostly abandoned us.
PS: They tend to drift. Psychologically, they’re similar to the Georgians. If a group of Colombians has a strong, charismatic leader, they’re remarkably resilient; they’ll endure the hardships of service without complaint. But when that leader is absent—whether killed, wounded or hospitalized—the group holds together for a while, then falls apart. You’ll see the same pattern in the Ukrainian army. Charismatic squad- or platoon-level leaders are often the ones who take the most risks. And over time, most of them end up wounded. They’re the ones who lead from the front, and given how long this war has dragged on, and how frequent the contact is, the statistics are unforgiving.

AK: You mentioned that some recruits come for the money. Do they earn more than Ukrainian soldiers?
PS: No, the pay is the same as in any regular Land Forces unit. There might be additional bonuses in places like the Main Intelligence Directorate (HUR) or the well-known 3rd Assault Brigade, but that’s a different story.

The real issue—and it’s not unique to us, but common across all units that take in foreigners—is trust and communication. Especially when we’re talking about migrant workers. Foreigners tend to be very cautious—even suspicious—about whether they’re being misled. If there’s a breakdown or distortion in communication between command and the serviceman, a foreigner might walk away thinking he’ll earn 190,000 hryvnias a month—the theoretical maximum in the Land Forces (that’s 20,000 as base pay, 100,000 for combat duty and 70,000 for being in a frontline trench). So if someone tells a Colombian volunteer that he’ll be making 190,000 and he believes it, chances are that in a few months he’ll be on his way out of Ukraine, disappointed and disillusioned because he didn’t get what he expected. And not because he was cheated, but because no one explained the conditions under which that full amount could be earned. That’s why it’s crucial to communicate clearly with foreigners to explain exactly how much they’ll be paid and for what.

AK: What about when foreigners leave their units without authorization? How is that different from how it works for Ukrainians? Do they always go home?
PS: Of course, at a train station, someone who clearly isn’t Ukrainian—especially if they’re in uniform—will attract the attention of both the police and the military law enforcement. Those people often end up in reserve battalions. From there, we might retrieve them and bring them back into the fold—or they might run again, scrape together some money and manage to leave the country. Ukrainians who go AWOL usually head home. Foreigners tend to drift—they hang around, stay in touch with each other and eventually figure out a way to get out.

AK: I heard the Legion has a particularly interesting system for recruitment and personnel management. What makes it stand out?
PS: I can’t speak for other units, but I can tell you how we do it. There are several platforms involved. For Ukrainian recruits, for example, we post on Lobby X. We also built a freelance recruitment service. We essentially took the same system used by any modern corporate HR department and copied it; we even mobilized a guy who had worked in one. The model works.

There’s a scripted process, a clear sequence of steps and a support structure. Here’s how it goes: a candidate visits the site, fills out an application, gets contacted, goes through a video interview and receives a detailed briefing about risks. Then comes guided onboarding — entering Ukraine, going through the enlistment office, then the training center. After that, they arrive directly to our unit, already knowing exactly where they’re going and who their commander is. Even during the prep phase, they’re in touch with their potential commander. It’s the same process for Ukrainians. If we find someone, interview him, and both sides are satisfied, we support him all the way to the frontline sector.

There’s nothing complicated about it. It’s just a simplified version of what corporations have been doing for years.

AK: Everyone complains about a shortage of personnel. Do you face the same issue?
PS: Of course. But it’s not so much a general shortage of people; it’s a shortage of people who can perform tasks in the way that’s currently required in the Ukrainian Armed Forces.

We’re still working within an infantry framework. There’s a village or settlement that needs to be held, so we build positions and set up defensive and logistical systems. And yes, we’re constantly short on personnel because people are being killed. Others are wounded and go AWOL. Often the problem isn’t just numbers—it’s that the mission doesn’t match the available resources. You’re told: “This position must be held to the end.” Then “the end” arrives—the position falls, and the people are gone.

AK: So, essentially, it’s the same situation everywhere?
PS: Exactly. We’re just one more battalion heading into the operational zone. We get our orders from above. It doesn’t matter whether it’s an international unit or a regular one, the task is the same: hold your ground or launch an assault to take it back. The objectives are the same, the methods are the same, and the people, at their core, are the same. The only real difference is that foreigners are less inclined to carry out suicidal missions.

That is, if you tell a foreigner, “Run up that hill and take it,” he’ll likely say, “No thanks, I’ll go back to Colombia.” But if you show him the available resources, a video feed a livestream of what’s happening and give him a map to plan his approach, he’ll usually take that hill. So the key is how the task is communicated. It’s a bit like working with teenagers: you need to negotiate, give them a sense of agency. Broad autonomy—that’s what works.

AK: I know the Legion set up a Flight Control Center early on, which later evolved into an Intelligence Control Point. Can you tell us more about that? From what I hear, you’re quite knowledgeable about drone warfare in the Armed Forces of Ukraine.
PS: That’s right. We created the Flight Control Center from day one. If you have a frontline position and a drone, someone needs to monitor what that drone sees. And not just the commander, so you need a network to share that data. Everyone today works off the Delta system. There’s a tower where all the drone feeds stream to. Then it gets managed. To make those feeds useful, the drone pilot needs to be properly trained: how to fly, which routes to take, where to look, what zoom level to use to extract actionable intelligence. Flying at 1,000 meters and seeing nothing — that’s useless. Flying at 50 meters and peeking under every bush—you’ll get shot down.

So we didn’t just build a system—we created full operational algorithms. Then we ran into the next problem: friendly fire. When you fly over your own positions, our guys might shoot you down. That’s where coordination comes in. And that’s why the Flight Control Center exists—to manage and deconflict the airspace. We built that.

Next issue: almost every trench and vehicle now has its own electronic warfare (EW) equipment. Some of it’s privately purchased, some comes from the state, with different power levels and frequencies. To make drone flights safe, you need predefined flight corridors, so you don’t get jammed or shot down by your own side. Managing that? Also the Center’s job.

Once that was addressed, we hit the next bottleneck: analysis. There was a flood of video and telemetry, but someone had to analyze it and produce real intelligence. We rotate. The enemy rotates. We run logistics. They run logistics. If you want to strike the enemy effectively, you need to know when and where they’re moving, what they’re carrying, where they’re massing before an assault. You need to locate their supply routes, logistics bunkers, command posts. You can detect a command post by a generator—it gives off heat.
If they’re on Ukrainian territory, they use Starlink. On Russian territory—Wi-Fi bridges.

You can find this equipment, analyze its function and either destroy it yourself or pass the data up the chain so artillery can take it out. And that’s how the Flight Control Center evolved into an Intelligence Control Point. Now we’ve got analysts—guys and girls monitoring feeds, processing them and producing clean intelligence: what the target is, where it is and when best to strike. When it comes to enemy movement and logistics, the logic is simple: position your firepower at the intersections.

In crude terms, there are three timings to consider: the time of flight for your munition, the time needed to prepare your strike and the time it takes the enemy to move. If we see a movement begin, we calculate how long it will take that group to reach the point where our mortar is aimed—and we fire accordingly. That’s how we’ve been able to deal powerful hits to the enemy. It worked, our command liked it, our partner units liked it and the brigades we supported appreciated it. We were happy to share our experience. And those who understood it implemented it.

AK: There’s talk that we’re starting to fall behind the Russians in drone development, even though Ukraine was a pioneer in this field. How do you see the situation? What could help us catch up?
PS: That’s a manipulative narrative. We’re on a constant see-saw with our opponents—in some areas they’ve pulled ahead, in others we have. Before this war started, we weren’t prepared at all. Meanwhile, they already had their Orlan drones in service. We eventually leveled the playing field by deploying FPVs and achieving a rough parity. Now they’ve surged ahead in one particular area: fiber optic drones. But not because they’re smarter or more innovative; it’s simply that they have more financial and material resources. At the same time, they don’t have anything comparable to our heavy bombers—drones like the Kazhan, Vampire, Nemesis or Heavy Shot. That segment of the battlefield is virtually empty on their side.

What they do have now is a wave of light aircraft—Molniya, Privet-82—fixed-wing kamikaze drones carrying up to 5 kilograms. They’re cheap and basically an evolution of the FPV concept, just with wings. We have our own analogues—like Darts—and they’re effective. In this particular area, there’s still parity. What comes next? No one really knows. Those of us working with drones can only guess.

So no, I wouldn’t say the Russians have definitively surpassed us. They just have more material capacity to scale the production of UAVs. If we had the same number of fiber optic FPVs, we’d outperform them. Our efficiency is better. Take ten Ukrainian drones and ten Russian ones—we’ll do more damage. Why? Because our operators are better trained and we use custom munitions. The Russians, by contrast, often just take standard RPG-7 warheads and tape on forks and screws. Fortunately, that isn’t very effective.

AK: Are you still operating in the Kharkiv direction? What’s the situation like there now?
PS: Yes. Near Kupiansk and Dvorichna, they’ve made some gains. I expect they’ll try to build on that success further east. They’ve already reached the high ground on the right bank.
In Vovchansk, the situation is more or less stable.

AK: From what I gather, things are pretty tense. What’s the morale like in your battalion?
PS: Positive. We’ve got a lot of different projects underway. What we need now is people.

Look, after what happened in Pokrovsk, just about any direction can be a good place to fight, plan or dig in. Right now, we’re selecting and training new infantry. Once they’re ready, we’ll head back into the sector.

AK: Can you share a story from the front?
PS: You know, it’s like that old joke: there’s a lot to remember, but not much you’d want to tell the kids. You can’t exactly write about how our foreign fighters captured a lost sapper team from a neighboring unit. Luckily, it was the Colombians who found them, not the Brazilians. The Brazilians might’ve just killed them. But the Colombians took them prisoner, got on the radio, figured out what had happened and let them go.

AK: That sounds like a very “Brazilian” trait. Are they more aggressive?
PS: It’s not about cruelty—it’s about emotional stability or rather instability. It’s like putting a German and an Austrian next to a Brazilian. Or a Georgian next to an Estonian.

But we do get some remarkable stories. Take a recent one from Pokrovsk. We were tasked with clearing out a landing zone where a Russian sabotage group had already broken through to our rear. Our fighters executed the mission. Then they noticed another suspicious area a bit further off. They radioed in: “There’s someone there — no movement.” We sent a UAV. Sure enough, another group. So they went back in and cleared that one too. We’d originally sent them to neutralize a group supported by 12 APCs—they ended up knocking out closer to 40. But then they heard gunfire behind them. It sounded like they were being flanked, maybe even surrounded. So they picked up and left. Of course, we caught flak for that: “Why did you abandon the position?” But they were assigned a task—and they completed it. That’s their mentality. You have to work with it. Because if they’d been Ukrainians, and the battalion commander shouted, “Stand your ground!”—they’d stand. They’d probably die, but they’d stand.

With foreigners, it’s a different story. You need to explain, show, walk through the plan together. We know how to do that, and that’s why our survival rate for foreign fighters is pretty high. And I say that without false modesty.

 

Read this interview in Ukrainian and russian.