I have been hesitant to write this. Firstly, I do not wish to be seen as somehow criticising Ukraine, whose cause I support without reservation and where so many have already sacrificed so much. Secondly, one should always hesitate before recommending any course of action that requires others to put themselves in harm’s way. Even so, I think this is an issue that deserves discussion – it is something our forebears have experienced, and perhaps we may do again.
I will start though, not with 2024, but 1944.
On 11 December 1944 my father flew his first combat mission as a rear gunner in a Lancaster of RAF Bomber Command. The following day, his Lancaster was among 140 bombers attacked by 40 German fighters, with eight shot down, including two of the twelve flying that day from my father’s squadron. His own aircraft was damaged by anti-aircraft fire.
Just three weeks earlier my father had celebrated his 20th birthday.
As a flyer with Bomber Command, largely crewed by men in their 20s, he was part of a force that during World War Two lost 55,573 killed out of a total of 125,000 aircrew, a 44.4% death rate. My father, and by extension me, were lucky he didn’t go operational a year earlier when the loss rate on each operation averaged 5%. With each crew committed to a tour length of 30 operations, the chances of making it through a whole tour were very low.
Bomber Command’s aircrew were volunteers, but if he hadn’t volunteered to fly he would still have been called up, because in WW2 the British conscription age was 18-41. So, he would very likely have ended up in the infantry, less glamorous maybe, but still very hazardous with horrendous loss rates as they fought through North West Europe. However, conscription was not controversial – this was total war, this was the way it was, the way it had to be.
However, in Ukraine the conscription age is not 18-41 but 27-60, with an ongoing debate about lowering it to 25, and it’s clear many are deeply uncomfortable about dropping it. Increasing the numbers to be mobilised appears to have been an important element in the differences between President Zelensky and the former Chief of Defence, General Zaluzhnyi.
But the statistics suggest not lowering the conscription age is unsustainable. The average age of Ukrainian soldiers on the frontline is over 40. But the sharp end of conflict is a young person’s game. Yes, older soldiers have experience, cunning and wisdom, but the exhausting nature of frontline combat requires reserves of energy, athleticism, and the vigour of youth. There’s a reason that throughout history it’s young men who have borne the brunt of combat.
It's also a question of numbers. In a long-running conflict, which sadly is where we now are, then there are two critical elements – enough weapons, and enough people to operate them.
Lengthy, large-scale warfare also has some consistent defining characteristics, and one of them is conscription taking in a broad swathe of society. Unsurprisingly, only a minority volunteer to fight, so it becomes an obligation – an unpleasant, dangerous, but democratic duty.
Russia is now orientated to war, and even without general mobilisation has shown it can, at least for now, generate huge reserves of combat power. Right now, it still has spare capacity of manpower. Ukraine is not a small country, but comparatively it cannot match Russian resources – and especially if it does not mobilise itself to the maximum.
Ukraine is simply running out of soldiers but is not yet tapping into the large and critical cohort of those in their 20s. Uncomfortable though this is, the issue has to be faced. Ukraine’s leaders and people say this fight is for the survival of Ukraine as an independent, sovereign nation – in other words it is existential. I think they’re right.
In which case it’s everyone’s fight, including all those in their 20s. A future either under or free of the Russian yoke is surely every bit as vital to them as 30, 40 and 50-year-olds.
We are now in a war of attrition and Russia believes it can outlast Western will and Ukrainian resources. Frankly, it’s a matter of shame to me that we in the West have not done more to equip Ukraine, but it is for Ukraine to mobilise its human resources.
It goes beyond this as well. I have already picked up from contacts a growing resentment by some that the burdens of the war are not fairly shared – that some are carrying far more of the weight and dangers than others. Such perceptions are hugely divisive and potentially undermine the sustained and unified national will needed to defeat Russia. Everyone, to use the British wartime phrase, must ‘do their bit’, and importantly be seen to do it.
A lack of universal conscription at a wide enough age limit also leads to a vicious circle for those carrying the load. Combat – to state the obvious – is hugely stressful. Military history shows us that a sustainable, attritional struggle requires those at the sharp end not to be there too long. That requires rotation, and rotation out requires reserves to rotate in.
The Russians often take a different view, feeding people into a mincing machine, seemingly until they are minced, and for now at least they have enough people willing to be mincemeat. Ukraine, as with other democracies, does not and should not. They therefore need more than one soldier for each post, to enable rotation and to make up losses.
For the soldier on the front line knowing they will rotate out is critical for morale and combat effectiveness. The image of World War One is of troops stuck in waterlogged trenches on the frontline until killed or wounded. Not so. In the British Army, soldiers rotated in and out of the front lines to provide a break from the stress of combat and the general discomfort. Typically, they spent four to six days in the first line of trenches before moving back and spending an equal number of days in the secondary and, finally, the reserve trenches and rear areas. This system of rotation, along with occasional leave to England, prevented many soldiers from breaking down.
Contacts have told me that the reluctance to expand conscription reflects in part that young Ukrainians are so scared of being sent to the frontline trenches, some to the extent of finding ways to get out of Ukraine. At one level such fears are eminently sensible – it is scary. But the truth is, does this mean 30-, 40- & 50-year-olds should bear that particular burden? What’s the alternative – other than Russia winning of course.
Beyond that, there seems to be a suspicion of the way the conscription system is run – that it is corrupted, unfair, and inefficient. There certainly has been problems, demonstrated by the previous sacking of senior mobilisation officers. This again goes back to the criticality of burden sharing and everyone ‘doing their bit’.
A proper conscription system is therefore also a test for Ukraine’s war management and continuing to overcome the corruption that has hindered its progress in so many ways.
Part of that is what happens after registration. If conscripts are going to be asked to lay their lives on the line, they need to have faith the system will give them the best possible chance of coming through.
Not everyone needs to be sent to a frontline trench – far from it. Conscription is also the front end of a process, with proper transparent registration that in turn links people, skills, needs and training. That then needs to be followed by a proper system of rotation, tours of duty, leave, promotion and so on. Without a wider pool of recruits then inevitably more will be asked of fewer, and you enter a vicious circle.
This is a new kind of challenge for President Zelensky. His early inspiration now needs to be matched by a different kind of managerial leadership embracing the whole of society.
Ukraine is at an inflection point. The adrenalin, improvisation, inspiration, and commitment that enabled its brilliant response to the Russian aggression needs to transition to managing an often attritional struggle for the long haul. This does not mean the conflict will be never-ending but when Putin’s essential strategy is to outlast the West and wear Ukraine down then the response – the only way to defeat him – must be to show you and we can and will do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes.
In that sense, Ukraine getting its 20-year-olds into the fight is both a practical and emblematic issue to sustain the war and tell Putin he will not outlast Ukraine. For our part though, we need to give them the tools. We have done a lot, but it could and should have been more.
Russia has created a war economy and tooled up to produce weapons as well as source supplies from Iran and North Korea. Meanwhile the West has drawn deeply on its stocks to supply Ukraine but given nowhere near the priority we should have to increasing our own industrial capacity to both replenish our stocks and keep up the flow to Ukraine. This looming problem has been obvious for a while now, and action could have been taken to at least mitigate the shortages.
So, it's hard to criticise a 21-year-old for not wanting to go to the front if his artillery lacks shells to fire to help defend him.
But tragically, this is also so often the nature of war. Especially for Ukrainians, who are fighting for their very existence as a sovereign nation, but also fighting for the security and values of a free Europe. This was not Ukraine’s choice, but it is its fate.
Reviewing this piece, it perhaps comes over as harsh – from my home office, protected by nationality and relatively advanced years, saying young people should risk their lives. I get that. But war’s realities are harsh, and I say it from a lifetime’s study of war, and also covering it on the ground as a Defence Correspondent and being with NATO. As a young man, during the latter part of the Cold War, I was also a member of the Territorial Army. I was never called upon but did have to consider the possibility of mobilisation, low though that likelihood was by then.
Perhaps more to the point though, I look to the example of my 20-year-old father, in his bomber in 1944, and my 43-year-old grandfather, surviving the sinking of his minesweeper, also in 1944. None of us can know how we would act if the call came, and so we should all be wary of judging others and certainly not condemning them. All I can say is that if the call did come, I hope I would have proven to be worthy of my father.
Slava Ukraini.
Interesting to read about your father's and grandfather's experiences and I'm glad they survived. It was also an interesting argument you made. I was unaware and completely ignorant of the Ukranian conscription age - I just assumed all men over 18 got called up in times of war. I'm not sure after reading your article whether I agree with it although I can understand the argument for lowering the conscription age. I agree it's an uncomfortable view to put forward but as a nurse, mother, with pacifist views and a large handful of naivety, I just wish there was a more peaceful way of ending this awful war. In my opinion too many innocent lives, on both sides, have ended up serving as cannon fodder. I wish there was a way of removing that Russian serpent from power and for peace to follow but I can't see that happening especially after Navalny's death and the recent so called Russian elections.