Russian Military Slang Reveals the Reality of Life on the Front Line

A research project titled The Ethnographic Dictionary of War was published in June by anthropologist Alexandra Arkhipova and psychologist Yuri Lapshin in collaboration with ECHO, the Russian Anti-War Committee. They analyzed almost 7,000 letters, texts, and other communications between Russian servicemen and their relatives. The information had been accessed following a leak of information from the digital platform used to register appeals to Russia’s Human Rights Commissioner made between April and September 2025.JOIN US ON TELEGRAMFollow our coverage of the war on the @Kyivpost_official. The supposedly independent commission acts as an ombudsman to evaluate complaints from Russian citizens questioning the actions of state bodies and officials. However, as the commissioner is appointed by the State Duma for a five-year term, many question its true impartiality. Details of the study The study found that almost three-quarters of the applications submitted to the commissioner were related to Russia’s war in Ukraine. It also unearthed nearly 80 examples of “modern trench slang,” a combination of former USSR euphemisms, prison jargon, mockery of authority, soldiers’ irony, and technical metaphors. Among the terms recorded were “200” for a soldier killed in action, “sent on a business trip” for deployment to the front line, “ptichka” (bird) for a drone, and “ptichnik” (bird keeper) for a drone operator. Other Topics of Interest AFU Gains Ground, Kuban Gets Pounded, NATO Trains Hard and Gives Russian Drone Free Pass Stefan Korshak, Kyiv Post’s military correspondent, shares his perspective on recent developments in Russia’s war in Ukraine. The development of informal language within the military helps soldiers cope with stress, bond with peers, and make sense of complex systems. However, this is not a new phenomenon – every army of every age has its own. The new slang that has emerged on the Russian front lines in Ukraine reveals the truth of life as a member of the Kremlin’s “meat grinder” way of war fighting that makes a mockery of the sanitized version fed by the official line to the media, schools, and the population at large. The effect on Russian society Additionally, what these researchers found as being noteworthy in the communications they reviewed was the widespread use of the language by mothers, wives, sisters, and children. They argue that the language used shows that the war in Ukraine is impacting all of Russian society, transforming the language everybody now uses. Words born on the frontline have now become part of everyday speech. These documents describe everyday life – in the trenches, in hospitals, during training, and in camps. They detail the often adverse relationship between commanders and soldiers, particularly in terms of humanitarian violations, corruption, torture, humiliation, and fraudulent payments. The main thrust of the dictionary is not merely to show the meaning of a slang term but to illustrate the reality of the world in which the participants in the war live. Its analysis suggests that soldiers and families alike consider the war in Ukraine to be more than the “business of death” and that the language of war is a language of logistics. Analysis of letters show the “meat” (soldier) as simply a disposable resource that moves along a conveyor belt to death or injury. Stories of conscripts being forced into signing military contracts, only to have their enlistment bonuses extorted, their ration cards confiscated, and their payments ending up in their commanders’ accounts, are widespread. The economy of Putin’s war There are frequent references to the payment of “otkup” (ransom), which is a bribe paid to influence a soldier’s fate, whether to avoid a “meat-grinder” assault, obtain leave, or receive medical care. Fines are often levied for battlefield losses. A “ptichnik” whose drone is shot down may be required to purchase a replacement at his own expense. The letters contain stories of life and death behind the scenes. Mobilized soldiers are referred to as “mobiks,” though families often refer to them as warriors who went to fight not for money, but in “aid of the Motherland.” Nevertheless, much of the communication is concerned with cash. There are many inquiries as to why compensation (combat or mortuary credit) for a wounded or killed soldier has not been paid and how it can be acquired. The bodies of those killed invariably remain on the battlefield as there is too much logistic effort and risk to recover them. Therefore, it can be six months (or more), along with court approval, before a soldier is declared missing in action (BO), with many listed as deserters (SOCH), preventing payments to families. Soldiers taken prisoner are merely considered to be part of the “exchange fund” when sufficient numbers are captured or lost to justify their release. They remain as simply missing (BP) until freed. The authors conclude that something more is happening in Putin’s war than the simple acquisition of slang. They conclude that not only do the Russian authorities view their soldiers as dehumanized and disposable, but the language they and their loved ones use seem to accept that status too. Ultimately, death on the battlefield is no longer a “noble calling” but simply the outcome of their participation in the logistics of war. The views expressed in this opinion article are the author’s and not necessarily those of Kyiv Post.