Bohdan Fedorchenko is 26 years old. Before the full-scale invasion, he studied at the university, worked as a marketer, did karate and running, and was a member of a historical club where they discussed topics like the Third Crusade.

On the evening of February 23, 2022, Bohdan arrived at the volunteer battalion’s command. They argued all night about whether it would start. Bohdan and his friends began in the “Revansh” [Revenge] volunteer battalion, then in November 2022, he signed a contract with the Defense Forces. For four years, the guy was in a mortar group, and now he works with drones.

For the “Youth at War” project, Bohdan shares photographs from training and service, thoughts about youth, war, mortars, and poetry that he managed to write for the first time in the spring of 2026.

“Youth at War” is a project about film photos and the reflections of the military on the experience of the youth they are spending at war.

“Outskirts of Pokrovsk, 2024. We were working with mortars then. At that time, we had been on the Pokrovsk direction for the second month. We had short rotations. Where I’m standing, there was a pond. Russian artillery fired, thick smoke poured out, and I ran for the camera.”

Where do you look for inspiration, motivation, desire, thirst? What keeps you going?

Inspiration is a capricious thing, often it’s about the people around you, sometimes about the work. Sometimes, I wake up and feel drawn to the camera. It almost speaks: “Your shot is waiting, you have to take it.” And I set out to meet the adventure, capturing moments special to me on film. I would say the vast majority of my photographs are spontaneous. They are not planned, not staged. I don’t lay out clothes beautifully and tell my brother-in-arms, “Well, sit down.” I took pictures spontaneously because I always have the camera at hand.

Pokrovsk district, spring or summer — I don’t remember exactly anymore. We worked very hard then, it was an intense shift. We sat at the positions for about a week and returned terribly exhausted. We couldn’t drive out because there were too many drones in the sky. I was sitting in the car and thought that the light was falling very beautifully — I had to take a picture. Even though we were so exhausted that we didn’t want anything at all. I started digging through my backpack anyway. I’m on my knees, pulling out a sweater, throwing it out and other things. The guys say: “Damn, you got some Snickers rolling around in there, right?”. And I go: “Much better than a Snickers,” — and I pull out the camera. And they: “Oh, f*ck, at it again.”

What do you think about when you take these photos on film?

We want to show what we live by, how our youth is passing. I want to catch the diverse emotions and daily life of my brothers-in-arms. I love it when the guys rejoice at new pictures.

Kostiantynivka, also two years ago. We were servicing the mortar before going out to work. That same evening, the two guys who are squatting brought all the equipment we had just serviced and packed to our position. This photo was taken a day before working at the position.

What kind of people are around you? What do you feel towards them?

I am surrounded by the best people in the world! But I love them in moderation. Each and every one is uniquely different and opens up friendship anew for me every time. I feel gratitude for their support, for giving me the opportunity to learn from them. In words, but mostly in thoughts, I thank them for who they are, for who I can be with them, opening up and developing.

Sumy region, 2023. We were attached to counter-sabotage measures then and worked with border guards. We arrived in the area, drove around, established communication with allied units. This was necessary so that we could calmly drive in, unpack, prepare the mortar for work, fire, pack up, and return. Here is the allied units’ bus, the sun is setting, you can see a piece of the vehicle we moved in, and a French towed mortar on wheels.

Pokrovsk district, November-December 2025. We were already working with drones and looking for a position to set up our equipment. In the photo — my brother-in-arms. He was too lazy to carry the FPV drone in his hands.

Outskirts of Bakhmut, the settlement of Kalynivka. Spring 2023. This is our first time working with the French mortar.

Working with a mortar is both a science and an art. The distance to the enemy is determined by the weapon’s range — it can be from 1.5 to 8 km. This requires an understanding of your specific mortar, because calculating the impact point by software cannot be accurate without taking into account the weapon’s characteristics, weather, and other factors.

One of my brothers-in-arms took this photo. I had just been gifted the camera — it was my first roll of film in it. Allied units arrived that day, there were a lot of people on the spot, and I walked around asking who knew how to take good photos on film to get this portrait.

When, in your opinion, did your youth begin and, how long do you think it will last?

I am convinced that it’s about an internal feeling. As long as my blood “boils”, I will be young: whether at 26 or 76. It started boiling for me around my teenage years, but for now, based on my feelings, the real count started from the full-scale invasion.

Kyiv region, 2024. We had joint exercises with assault units. We walked about fifteen kilometers along different routes and had to take a point where we could potentially set up a mortar position. We had to learn to repel an attack on the position. Nowadays, there are fewer and fewer people, and it can happen that there are several more observation posts marked on the map in front of your position, but in reality, they are no longer there. And you are not guaranteed that someone won’t come “visiting” you.

This is Kotlyne. They told us then: “Guys, set up calmly, the second line of defense is in front of you, everything is clear there.” We worked for about five days, then held an internal rotation — another crew arrived. And on the third day, they were informed that enemy infantry had been seen there, so they had to be careful.

What distinguishes your generation from others? Or how are you the same as predecessors and successors?

Globally, I don’t feel a difference between generations. But I believe that our generation and future ones will be more responsible, braver. I think we are the same in our romanticism, in our desire for a better future for ourselves and our loved ones. Sometimes you just want simple human things, but the heart asks for adventure and exploits.

Training ground in the Kyiv region, summer 2023. We were zeroing in the mortars, practicing the work methodology. And this is our medics’ vehicle, an old American one.

The bus station at the entrance to Toretsk. In the background — waste heaps (terikons).

Pokrovsk, November-December. The same position as in the first photo, where there’s smoke behind the pond. A snow-covered garden in the courtyard of a house.

How do you cope with the terrible and the beautiful in life?

Differently, it all depends on the situation and my state. I turn in prayer to God — with requests and gratitude — I get inspired by the people around me or push myself through a sense of responsibility for the group I am currently working in.

Kharkiv region. We were driving from the warehouse along a field road. I photographed this because when we just arrived in the area before the Russian offensive, nothing was prepared there at all. And when the active phase started, they began setting up “dragon’s teeth” at such a pace.

Training ground. We were being ferried from point to point in a pickup truck. There wasn’t enough room for everyone, and the pickup was open, so we just sat on the rear platform.

We had such a mood then that we joked a lot, and I decided to capture it. The camera was in the side pocket of my pants, so I immediately took it out and started photographing. This is night, around three or four o’clock, maybe six in the morning.

What will you tell your grandchildren?

I plan to tell trashy stories so that the kids run to their parents saying: “Grandpa Bohdan isn’t taking his pills again.”

This is the border of Kharkiv and Luhansk regions. Probably June 2024. We went to work with one of the assault brigades. I was walking along the trench line then and saw this place.

How did you write poetry?

I wrote both poems in early March during a combat mission. I couldn’t fall asleep all night and decided to try writing something for the first time. It hadn’t worked out before, but recently I had read Olzhych, Antonovych — and somehow it flowed. During that period there was a very heavy psychological load, and for me it became an outlet — a tool to blow off steam and switch my attention to something good.

Worked on the story:

  • Photos and stories: Bohdan Fedorchenko

  • Interviewed and written by: Olya Shakhnyk

  • Edited by: Ira Didych

  • Proofread by: Iryna Kravets

  • Coordinated by: Maryna Pertsovych