Edith Hejberg
The Kremlin dangled life-changing pay: up to 5.2 million rubles a year, around six times the Russian average salary.
When Russian soldiers return from the brutal front lines in Ukraine, they expect honour and gratitude. Instead, many find themselves easy prey for corrupt officials, police, and outright thieves.
The Kremlin’s promise to treat them as “heroes” and part of Russia’s “new elite” often proves nothing more than empty rhetoric.
Fighting for Rubles, Not the Motherland
Take 39-year-old welder Nikita Hursa from Rostov region. He admits he didn’t join the war for patriotism, he joined for the money.
The Kremlin dangled life-changing pay: up to 5.2 million rubles a year, around six times the Russian average salary.
A Wound, a Bonus… and a Blow
Hursa was wounded in mid-2024 and returned home after only a few months. His bonus was meant to help him and his wife buy a modest apartment.
But after a drunken marital argument, he stormed out barefoot with a plastic bag full of cash, a decision that changed everything.
Police Who Saw Money, Not a Uniform
On his way to Rostov, Hursa was stopped by police. One officer hesitated, recognising him as a front-line soldier.
The other didn’t. They seized almost everything, 2.66 million rubles (about £24,000). Gratitude for service was nowhere in sight.
Airport Ambushes and Taxi Scams
Hursa’s story is not unique. In Moscow’s airports, police tip off taxi drivers about incoming soldiers.
These drivers offer a “normal” fare but charge up to 15 times more at the end of the ride. Refuse to pay and the soldiers risk being drugged, threatened, or drained of their bank accounts.
Salaries Stolen Before Payday
In one case, recruitment centre employees in Vladimir region were caught embezzling over 11 million rubles.
By controlling SIM cards linked to soldiers’ bank accounts, they siphoned funds before the troops could even collect their wages.
Officials Who Empty Soldiers’ Accounts
In Belgorod, a local bureaucrat linked soldiers’ accounts to his own phone number, quietly draining them. In other cases, commanders themselves took cards and PINs from their men even from those missing in action.
One sergeant major walked off with 50 cards, one holding over 2 million rubles.
War as a Get-Out-of-Jail Card
Hursa reported his robbery. The police officers were charged with theft and abuse of office.
But instead of facing trial, they enlisted and were deployed to Ukraine, exploiting a new law that lets defendants fight at the front instead of appearing in court.
No Justice, No Money, No Marriage
Hursa never recovered his stolen fortune. Now in a hospital near St. Petersburg, he awaits a military doctor’s decision: if deemed fit, he must return to the war.
His wife has left him, and with no home, he admits the army might be his only shelter.
For Many, the Army Is the Only Refuge
For soldiers like Hursa, survival means choosing between poverty and the battlefield. “If I’m not here anymore, I’ll end up on the streets,” he says. “The only salvation is the army. At least there you have a roof over your head.”
