In the flat, cold expanse near Ukraine’s border, Russian soldiers huddled around a campfire, casting wary glances at the new arrivals—the North Koreans. They had come in just days before, arriving in military trucks that sputtered into the camp under the dim dawn light. And though the North Koreans wore uniforms bearing the Russian flag, there was no mistaking them. The newcomers looked thin, gaunt, their eyes hollow as if forever seeking something they could never find. A chill ran through the Russians as they noticed the dull, hungry glint in their eyes, like shadows of men long lost to their own hunger.
“Look at them,” one Russian soldier muttered, keeping his voice low. “They’re so scrawny. If they’re our reinforcements, God help us.”
Rumors circulated quickly. Some of the older Russian soldiers swore they’d heard tales from other units—stories of strange parasites, intestinal worms, and bodies riddled with disease. One claimed to have seen an officer with a North Korean defector’s medical file years ago; he talked about roundworms as thick as fingers wriggling inside the poor man. The idea haunted the Russian soldiers, and they unconsciously took steps back when any of the North Koreans came close.
Another soldier scoffed, but even he kept his distance. “They’re no good to us here. They’ve trained for mountains and valleys, not open fields. This is Ukraine, not some northern slope.”
The North Koreans moved in groups, their eyes darting nervously, visibly unused to the vast, flat landscape. They were unsteady, visibly uncomfortable without the familiar shelter of trees and mountains. Though armed with Russian-issued rifles, they seemed to fumble with the weapons, their movements uncertain as if they didn’t trust the foreign steel in their hands.
During drills, the awkwardness showed. Instead of adapting to the open terrain, the North Koreans tried to maneuver as they would in the rugged mountains, crouching low and zigzagging unnecessarily, unaware of how their tactics stood out on the endless plains. The Ukrainian artillery barrages that followed were merciless, targeting their exposed positions with brutal precision. It wasn’t long before a handful of bodies lay lifeless on the cold ground—an unceremonious beginning to their grim tenure on the frontlines.
The Russian soldiers looked on, some with pity, others with disdain. They had hoped for reinforcements that could bolster their lines, men who knew the land and how to fight on it. Instead, they got these frail, starving youths, more like ghosts than warriors, who stumbled through the plains with haunted eyes and hollow faces.
All names of people and organizations appearing in this story are pseudonyms.
Inexperienced, poorly trained and underfed: the North Korean troops heading to Ukraine
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