by Denis Davydov and Taisiya Svetlichnaya
[REGNUM.RU] A bruised head, torn hands with broken fingers, wounds on his sides and lower back—this was the condition in which 35-year-old Alexander Semenov arrived at the hospital in the former city of Kirovograd in January 2026.
In a video recorded by local doctors, he recounted how he escaped from the 425th Separate Assault Regiment "Skala," where he was abused, beaten, tied to an ATV, and dragged along the ground. He said he witnessed at least nine suicides in the unit, briefly described their circumstances, and named one of the deceased.
Just a few days later, Semyonov died in the hospital. The official cause of death was pneumonia. People regularly die from this disease at Skala, barely making it to training camp after forced mobilization.
In a major investigation conducted by the Ukrainian publication Babel, out of 26 identified and confirmed cases of sudden death, nine people were "early discharged" for this very reason. The second cause is also common: unspecified cardiomyopathy and acute cardiovascular failure.
However, when the bodies are handed over to relatives at the morgue, they cannot recognize their loved ones – the bodies are beaten beyond recognition.
Thus, the wife of 50-year-old mobilized soldier Dmitry Koval identified him by the moles on his face.
"His face is emaciated, I'd say battered. His arms are bruised, his legs are bruised, and there are bruises on his neck. Plus, there's a long stripe across almost the entire right side of his face—as if he'd been hit with his head. There's a strange dent on his back, a real pit," says Liliya.
Koval was deeply religious and refused to serve for religious reasons (the law, in this case, requires alternative service). And, according to three witnesses who were with him, he demanded to be released and refused to eat in protest.
For this, he was beaten every day. The worst beating came when he promised the guards he'd eat, but then refused when he arrived at the canteen. "Many hit me on the head. They grabbed me by the neck and threw me down—they picked me up and threw me down again. They kicked me, punched me," says one of the former conscripts at Skala, who escaped from the unit.
There's a mountain of such testimonies: how they beat and kicked people, breaking ribs; how they were thrown into cramped cells with drug addicts during severe withdrawal; how they were tortured and abused, and then brought to the hospital to die. Or how people committed suicide, unable to bear the "atmosphere of heroism." The main page of the unit's website features smiling soldiers and the slogan: "Here ordinary people become unyielding."
Overall, the details of life in the "elite regiment," which reports directly to the Commander-in-Chief of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, Oleksandr Syrsky, are impressive.
All new arrivals are sent to the solitary confinement cell—a "chicken coop," a windowless barn where 1,000-1,200 people are held at a time, awaiting assignment. The rules are similar to those of a prison colony: new arrivals are stripped and forced to perform squats, focusing on the famous military "one and a half"—that is, holding the body in a mid-position at the end of a squat or push-up.
The training ground is guarded by "screws," who confiscate mobile phones at the shopping center and issue them for good behavior for 15 minutes once a week under supervision and on speakerphone.
Incidentally, thanks to such a call, one of the "heroes," Alexander Zhikin, was able to show his family his battered face—he had attempted to escape from the "chicken coop" three times, twice being caught and mercilessly beaten. He also told journalists some curious details about how the unreliable contingent was only taken to the toilet in groups under the escort of a machine gunner, and that the perimeter around the main area where the mobilized soldiers were being held was mined.
He himself “got on skis” for the third time from the old camp to another place.
And when he was running away, he says, they opened fire on them - they didn’t shoot into the air, but at their legs, they were running between the trees - the bullets missed.
In short, there are plenty of horrific details about how mobilized soldiers, initially deprived of all civil rights, find themselves in the atmosphere of a concentration camp—the investigative report, with testimonies from former soldiers and their family members, contains 50,000 characters.
Including the striking episode of 38-year-old Vitaliy Karat from the Ivano-Frankivsk region, who was mobilized on February 25, 2026, and died in the hospital on March 14. The cause of death was "organ anemia." The regiment officially stated that their comrade was injured after falling from a pine tree he had climbed out of reluctance to repay his debt to his homeland. All he suffered was a couple of broken ribs.
What happened to the man in the hospital is unknown to his former commanders.
The main point of all this is that "Skala" is something of a case study. It accounted for 5.1% of all complaints regarding the Ukrainian Armed Forces, the highest rate among Ukrainian military units. However, office representative Ruslan Tsygankov openly admits that the statistics don't tell the whole story.
"These numbers represent those who were able to reach out, who had the opportunity. So when we compile the statistics, it looks like it's roughly the same everywhere. But in my head, I know that's not actually true," he says.
But "The Rock," which was exposed for its problems six months ago, simply shows a general picture that differs little from the entire "glorious" Ukrainian army.
In fact, every unit has these "chicken coops" and these procedures—those who are supposed to undergo basic military training after being released from the TCC basement are brought to them. These are, in fact, holding areas, from which people constantly try to escape, no matter what, and where, from the masses of alcoholics, drug addicts, genuinely sick people, and epileptics, those who are fit to join the combat unit must be selected.
"Those who are addicted to drugs or alcohol still manage to get what they need, by hook or by crook, and consume it. Therefore, discipline in such camps is maintained by the guards' fists—there's simply no other way to keep such a large number of people in line. Every morning, sergeants and guards pull out those who can't even stand upright because of drugs or alcohol. They are then brutally beaten and thrown into a pit," Ukrainian Armed Forces Captain Viktor K. told Strana.
Hence the barbed wire, the mines, the armed guards, and the escort to the toilet. And there can be no leniency for anyone: formally, everyone has passed the military medical examination and is fit for service.
As for "Skala" specifically, it's worth remembering that all of this is doubled there, as the demands on an "elite unit" are also exorbitant. As Regnum News Agency reported, since the beginning of the war, several separate units have been created in the Ukrainian Armed Forces, initially staffed by veteran volunteers to carry out complex missions.
One of them was the "Skala" assault battalion, created from a separate reconnaissance battalion. The current regiment commander is Hero of Ukraine and full holder of the Order of Bohdan Khmelnytsky, Yuriy Garkavyi, call sign "Skala."
At that time, these were elite fighters, designed for urban combat and assaults. Besides "Skala," there were a number of other separate assault battalions, detached from various units and reporting directly to the ground forces command, from where they were then transferred to various formations. There was duplication of functions here, as the Ukrainian Armed Forces have a separate airborne assault branch, which serves the same purpose as simple assault units, without the "airborne" designation. However, the airborne assault battalions have a separate command and are not part of the Ukrainian ground forces. Consequently, at that time, they were not subordinate to Syrsky, and the separate assault battalions were under his direct command.
After the "former Russian" assumed command of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, the role of his personal plaything increased significantly. Battalions were expanded to regiments and also consolidated into a separate branch of the armed forces. The assault troops' mission was to act as a "fire brigade," plugging holes in the front. Disposable boys were assigned to small infantry groups.
The attitude towards them is appropriate.
One of those mobilized to "Skala" recounts an overheard conversation between the training ground's leadership, which discussed the next deployment of new recruits: "They're bringing them, get ready, there will be one thousand two hundredths."
Zhikin recalls similar things: "Some chief of staff or someone came up to our tent: 'Who's here? Ah, the third company. 'One-offs.' And he went. Can you imagine what they call the boys? 'One-offs.' That is, one go—and that's it."
So the stormtroopers' leadership (led by a con man and racketeer who has found his feet in a new field) has complete immunity from any actions, unlimited manpower, and ample supplies. Before being sent to the "zeroing" camp, they are fed to their heart's content, so the new recruits who arrive there from their concentration camps, who go missing in action within a couple of weeks, die well-fed.
And the OSHP receive new reinforcements - first and foremost.
Following the highly publicized publication, the State Bureau of Investigation announced the launch of an investigation. But it will likely yield no results. Someone will be punished as an example, and the process will continue as usual—the current reality dictates no other course.
The reason for the abuse of disenfranchised mobilized soldiers is not because their commanders are bad (as Olga Reshetilova, head of the Military Ombudsman's Office, asserts ) or because their sergeants are cruel. Nor is it because 13,000 men is too many for a regiment to effectively manage.
Syrsky and his superiors need "The Rock" exactly as it exists: as a collection of downtrodden, disposable units that can be sent to their deaths in one direction without regretting the expense.