This article contains distressing details and references to suicide. Some of the names have been changed to protect identities.
Kateryna cannot talk about her son, Orest, without tears. Her voice trembles with anger as she explains how she found out the news that he had died on the front line in the eastern Donetsk region of Ukraine in 2023.
According to the official investigation by the army, he died by a self-inflicted wound, something Katernya finds hard to believe.
Kateryna has asked for her and her late son to remain anonymous due to the stigma that surrounds suicide and mental health in Ukraine.
Orest was a quiet 25-year-old who loved books and dreamed of an academic career. His poor eyesight had made him initially unfit for service at the start of the war, his mother says.
But in 2023, a recruitment patrol stopped him in the street. His eyesight was re-evaluated and he was deemed fit to fight. Not long after, he was sent to the front as a communications specialist.
While Ukraine collectively mourns the loss of more than 45,000 soldiers who have died since Russia's full-scale invasion in 2022, a quieter tragedy unfolds in the shadows.
There are no official statistics surrounding suicide among soldiers. Officials describe them as isolated incidents. Yet human rights advocates and bereaved families believe they may be in the hundreds.
Once deployed near Chasiv Yar in Donetsk, Orest became increasingly withdrawn and depressed, Kateryna recalls. She still writes letters to her son every day - 650 and counting - her grief made worse by how Ukraine classifies suicide as a non-combat loss. Families of those who take their own lives receive no compensation, no military honours and no public recognition.
In Ukraine, it's as if we've been divided, says Kateryna. Some died the right way, and others died the wrong way.
For Mariyana from Kyiv, the story is similar. Her husband Anatoliy volunteered to fight in 2022. He was sent to the front line as a machine-gunner near Bakhmut, one of the bloodiest battles of the war.
After losing part of his arm, Anatoliy was sent to hospital. One evening, after a phone call with his wife, he took his own life in the hospital yard. The war broke him, she says.
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 feels betrayed.
Oksana Borkun runs a support community for military widows, advocating for recognition of soldiers lost to suicide. She emphasizes that many families doubt the official explanations of death.
Olha Reshetylova, Ukraine's Commissioner for Veterans' Rights, acknowledges the need for change, stating her office is pushing for systemic reform. Families have a right to the truth, she insists.
This report reveals the urgent need for a more compassionate response to the mental health struggles faced by soldiers, suggesting that it's time for society to recognize all those who lost their lives as heroes, regardless of the circumstances.





















