STORIES
BY RIVER, MOUNTAINS, FOREST, AND FIELD
Who, how and for what money flees from the war abroad
STORIES
BY RIVER, MOUNTAINS, FOREST, AND FIELD
Who, how and for what money flees from the war abroad

In this report from the western Ukrainian Zakarpattya Oblast, we will tell you how the business of illegal border crossing works, who uses the "services" of the organizers of such schemes, and how border guards manage to outwit the smugglers and save lives.

"Over there, we have Ukraine, the Tysa f**king river. And here we have Romania - wow! I'm glad I made it in time for the evening and didn't have to swim at night," an excited voice can be heard off-screen. Another video reveals that this is a man of about 25, soaked and cold. In early January, he created a TikTok account called Diary of a Free Man, where he described in detail how he got to the river in Zakarpattya and swam to the Romanian bank of the Tysa. When asked in the comments why he was looking for publicity, the man said that he had always wanted to "grow his blog" and this was his chance.

Photo from TikTok

Part of the audience congratulated the author on being "finally free," while others were outraged, calling his videos the "Diary of a Pisspants" and "disrespectful to those who are fighting." In the end, the man explained that his story was a pure accident and that he did not know any secret place to cross the border in violation of the law. These videos were indeed spread all over the national media and social networks, and were viewed by tens of thousands of people. However, a few days later, the platform blocked the author's account, and he came across a group of Ukrainian men in Prague and was filmed with offensive comments.

"If it's true, he was really lucky to survive," says Lesya Fedorova, head of the press service of the Mukachevo border guard detachment. This particular unit protects a little over 300 kilometers of Ukraine's border with Romania and Hungary, which runs along the Tysa and the Carpathian mountains, among other places. The main task of her colleagues is to prevent illegal crossings, but in recent years their work has increasingly resembled that of rescuers – preventing people from drowning in water or freezing at altitude.

Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, 19 bodies of drowned people have been pulled from the river in the detachment's area and five more have been found in the mountains. However, the border guards reasonably assume that there are more dead. For example, two months ago, law enforcement officers found footprints, a man's jacket, and a damaged life jacket on the banks of the Tysa. A man had entered the water, but there were no signs that he had come out of it, neither on Ukrainian side nor on the Romanian side.

"This river is deceptive," explains Oleh Selezniov, head of the Dilove department of the Mukachevo border guard detachment, which is currently one of the busiest sections of the border. "Few people realize that the water temperature and flow rate do not vary much throughout the year. While in winter ‘swimmers’ prepare and wear wetsuits, in summer they do not. And most of them are simply not able to physically withstand the current and the sharp cooling."

Besides, the river bottom plays a role, he adds. The Tysa carries sharp stones and tree roots from the mountains. A person is in a hurry, nervous, and in the first seconds can either get seriously injured or go downstream. He says that even the locals do not fully understand how dangerous the river is. As a confirmation, he tells us about one of the most recent rescues on his account.

At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, two men from border villages close to the Tysa left with their families and settled in the Czech Republic. This year, to celebrate Christmas the majority of people in Zakarpattya still celebrate on the old date, and their wives wanted to go with their children to their parents' house. The men also decided to "surprise" their families, but in order not to "show up" at the border guard base, they decided to get home across the Tysa. They found wetsuits and helpers from their fellow villagers, drove to the Romanian side of the river, and swam.

One of them didn't make it halfway across, as he was washed back to the shore, where Romanian border guards were already waiting. The other one went downstream and almost sank to the bottom. The man was lucky that Oleh Selezniov was working nearby at the time and managed to reach him.

"Ten minutes before, I had spotted some suspicious locals who were hanging out near the river in this square. We had already detained one of them earlier for something similar, so I realized something was going on. While I was dealing with them, my Romanian colleagues told me that there were people in the river. I immediately contacted the neighboring posts, found out where to look, climbed over the fence and walked along the bank," the border guard explains that it took a minute or two to get to the person in time. "There was a danger that he would get tangled in the roots of the trees and follow the water flow. He was in a state of shock and exhaustion. I realized that I had to take him out of there more carefully and warm him up."

The man was examined to see if he was injured, taken to the border guard station, and given warm clothes. Half an hour later, when he got better, they recorded his testimony and drew up a report on administrative violation. "At first, he thanked us for saving him and admitted that it was stupid. There was no interrogation, people are always honest with themselves after such a thing, although the first thing they say from afar is that they have a difficult life. He said that he had not seen his family for two years and decided to ‘surprise’ them. When I asked him how he was going to return, he remained silent. We all understood how."

Lesya Fedorova points out that both "swimmers" are strong men in their 30s, and they were locals who should have known the river well. However, this was not enough. "Last spring, there was a case when a guy of 20 years old got stuck in the roots and couldn't get out. He drifted on that tree all night, and only at dawn did we see his body," he says. "It seemed to be more or less warm outside, and he was sporty, wearing a wetsuit, but he still couldn't make it.

"THIS RIVER IS DECEPTIVE"

Business

Before the full-scale invasion, the main problem for border guards in this region was tobacco smuggling. Now, the same people have switched to crossing the border illegally, a less costly and risky business with a much higher income.

"As soon as a chance to make money illegally arises, these opportunists immediately get involved," says Lesya Fedorova, referring to local organized crime. She adds that it is usually a "village authority" who has subordinates with different roles. "Someone looks for clients, another meets them, another takes them in for the night, another leads them to the border, and others scout, get vests, wetsuits, inflatable boats. It's not a big and serious hierarchical structure, but a fairly well-trained grassroots self-organization of up to seven or eight people."

It is quite easy to find such advisers and accomplices on social media. A quick search and dozens of Telegram channels promise men a "legal departure" abroad, either as a volunteer under the Shlyakh system or with a conclusion from a military medical commission that they are unfit for military service. The first scheme currently charges $700 per person, and the second - $1,300. Some offer a "package of services": escort through the checkpoint, work visa, employment, and accommodation.

Most of these Telegram channels are quite primitive, with the only function of going to a chat with a "consultant". However, some of them focus on diversifying their "services" and advertising, sharing feedback from satisfied "clients," and spreading news and disinformation in a way that encourages the part of the audience that is still hesitant. Like, “we told you that it will only get worse, so hurry up and book the last slots”.

"It is important for them to drag a person here, but on the spot, a completely different dialogue begins," Lesya Fedorova cites an example from last fall, when the detachment detained violators from Dnipropetrovsk, Kharkiv, Kirovohrad, and Odesa oblasts, and they all testified the same way: they were promised "the right shift" at the checkpoint by phone, but during the meeting they were taken in a roundabout way. "’Guys, here's the deal, it didn't work out, there's no shift, you'll have to go through the green line’. And if someone starts protesting, they intimidate them."

The cost of transportation depends on the season and the amount of "services" provided. In winter, it is $4,000-6,000 per person, and in the warm season, it is $2,000-3,000. "In the summer, there are many more individual attempts, so the prices go down. People believe in their abilities. They think that the river is visible, of normal temperature and depth, and it is not so scary and cold in the mountains," explains Oleh Selezniov. Now he is pulling men out of the Tysa, and last spring he rescued them in the Carpathians.

"It's a business. Whoever agrees on what, that's how it will be," adds Volodymyr Starynets from the Luzhanka border guard department. "In his area, Roma men from the surrounding villages are frequent border violators. "They take from 10,000 hryvnias ($262) to 1,000 euros ($1,079) from local 'clients' and the same $4,000-6,000 from visitors."

"The guides also vary. There are those who just want to take a certain amount of money, show you where to go on the map, and then it's your problem. And there are those like the one we caught yesterday: they will take you to the border, even cut the fence with wire cutters, tell you where to go, and wait to see if you succeed."

Usually, the organizers do not see each other and may not contact their "clients" at all. They direct them by phone, change their numbers and route, move them from place to place, and make sure they are not tailed. When it comes to the river, they try to bring the offenders to the shore at night so that they do not fear visibility and are more trusting.

"Traffickers are salesmen. They convince people that the border guards are writing nonsense: ‘Don't listen, it’s like a stream you cross, the river is narrow, I'll find you a good place," says Lesya Fedorova. "People who come here do not fully understand the danger they are in. It is only later that they all recognize that the risk is not worth it," adds Oleh Selezniov.

Minors who grew up in the area are often involved in crossing the mountains, taking them to a certain point, and then leaving. Just recently, there was such a case when border guards rescued a man from Dnipro on the second day of his journey. Although by all indications he had help, he never admitted that he was not walking alone.

"He was wearing light pants, sneakers, and had no belongings – it was clear that he was not going to the mountains. But given the route he took and the condition in which we found him, he had something to keep warm and something to drink and eat. According to our guesses, he was brought to that place and left there." Lesya Fedorova says that in the mountains, there is a connection at certain points that the locals know about.

"Violators are brought there, instructed to call Romanian rescuers, and return home to avoid getting caught." "But the Romanians looked at the geolocation and sent the information to us. He was three kilometers from the border."

"THEY ARE CONSTANTLY STUDYING US, JUST LIKE SMUGGLERS USED TO DO"

Confrontation

"As they change, we change," Lesya Fedorova summarizes the border guards' strategy to counteract illegal crossing schemes.

At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, smugglers led men through official checkpoints with forged documents: birth certificates of a child or the death of a wife, then there was a period of pension certificates, a package of documents about studying at a foreign university, and then, to this day, conclusions of the military qualification commission and temporary certificates of persons liable for military service. Nowadays, there are fewer of these things, but attempts to circumvent border guards have become more frequent.

"They are constantly studying us, just like smugglers used to do. They set up round-the-clock surveillance of border patrols to catch the moment, to find a loophole through which they can smuggle people. They are trying to buy the same vehicles as ours, radio stations, night vision, and thermal imaging devices. But we are also constantly improving," explains Lesya Fedorova.

A border regime is now in place in Zakarpattya and other neighboring regions. If a non-local enters the region on the way to the border, he or she passes several checkpoints (roadblocks), where he or she has to explain and confirm the purpose of his or her stay: visiting family, work, or vacation.

"The operatives at the checkpoints are focused on filtering: they check, question, and identify people who intend to cross the border illegally. In 90% of situations, they are right. If a person has no legitimate purpose, they don't hold out for long, they confess right away," says Oleh Selezniov.

"Although different things happen. Once we detained a man whose friend tried to smuggle him through the checkpoints in an ambulance. Another was allegedly traveling with his family on vacation. We checked their documents and found that they had booked places. Later in the evening, we detained him in the mountains," adds Lesya Fedorova.

"They resort to various tricks. We know all of them and try to be one step ahead to act long before the border." In addition to checkpoints, border guards have units in the rear, as well as operatives who work in social media to identify organizers and their "clients."

Each area has its own protection mechanism. For example, in the area under the jurisdiction of Oleh Selezniov's department, there are local houses and a highway close to the river, which is also the border. That's why mobile patrols are constantly working here, operating on the principle of "see and react." Everything happens instantly, in a minute or two.

On Volodymyr Starynets's site, the methods are combined, depending on the proximity to settlements, previous experience, and risk analysis. They actively use photo traps and seismic sensors with a quadcopter: "Where we have a photo trap, we don't put people there. When a photo is triggered, a photo is sent to the duty officer's phone, and he sends a response team if necessary. If the seismic sensor is triggered, we determine by the impulse whether it is a person, animal, or car. Then a quadcopter takes off, and within five minutes it is on the spot and adjusts where the patrol should go."

"AND THEN WE CATCH THEM AGAIN"

Result

The main goal of the border guards is to find the organizers of the smuggling schemes. Those who offer document forgery services look for "clients" and lead them through the "green line". Border violators themselves are liable under Article 204-1 of the Code of Administrative Offenses of Ukraine. Its sanction provides for administrative detention for up to 15 days or a fine of up to 500 tax-free minimums for the first time and up to 800 tax-free minimums if caught for the second time and beyond. Judicial practice in the region is such that judges usually limit themselves to a fine of 3,400 hryvnias ($89) or 8,500 hryvnias ($223) for a repeat offense. The operatives bring most of these cases to court, but judges issue rulings that do not motivate the perpetrators to stop trying.

The traffickers are being prosecuted under Article 332 of the Criminal Code of Ukraine, which provides for up to nine years in prison for aggravated mercenary motive and organization of a crime. However, even here, the judges show considerable humanity: usually, the perpetrator receives up to five years in prison with a probationary period of two or three years. "And then we catch them again," concludes Lesya Fedorova.

As an example, she cites the story of a man who was caught by her colleagues in the river for the second time last December. He tried to swim across the Tysa on an air mattress wearing a pink baby hat. Before that, the man had tried to illegally cross the border twice in Odesa Oblast.

In the first 11 months of 2023, the State Border Guard Service detained 7,700 border violators, of whom almost 3,000 were detained by officers of the Mukachevo Border Guard Detachment. "Our area is consistently lively and dynamic. Almost everything that makes the headlines is ours," says Lesya Fedorova, recalling a list of the most eccentric attempts: with an inflatable "cheesecake" and "donut" swim rings, wearing pink flamingo armbands, in a baby box with children's toys, in women's clothes and under a car seat.

However, the work of border guards is not as fun as it seems on social media. Resuscitating and warming people out of the water and rescuing them in the mountains is a difficult and regular task. As well as being vigilant and unpredictable for smugglers.

"There is a period of detention, followed by a lull when they study us and change their tactics. A month ago, the Hungarian section was quiet, while the Romanian section was targeted all over the border. Then the Romanian section calmed down, and the Hungarian section went so far that on the first day, voila, 21 people were detained, seven of them children. Roma usually come as a whole camp," explains the border guard.

She emphasizes that the statistics include citizens of all genders and ages who were caught both in the green zone and at checkpoints. So not all of them are draft dodgers. Moreover, the average age of the detainees is now under 30, and they are often men who are not yet subject to mobilization.

Volodymyr Starynets adds that in his area, dodgers made up about half of all offenders at the beginning of the invasion, and now they probably make up about 10%. The rest are men under the age of 27 who are trying to find work in Europe or live with family who had left earlier.

Lesya Fedorova tells the story of a man from Kharkiv Oblast who came to Zakarpattya with his wife and children during the Russian occupation of part of the region. From here, his family left for Germany, but he stayed behind. Twice he tried to get mobilized, and twice he was denied a military service commission. At that time, he could not find housing or work here and decided to "go across the river." Border guards caught him and, during a conversation, offered him to mobilize to their unit, and he agreed. He now serves in the Mukachevo Border Guard Detachment, rented an apartment in a neighboring village, and brought his family back to Ukraine. "I offered him, 'Let's show you on TV,' that it's not so scary. But so far he refuses, saying that he will be ashamed in front of his parents because they don't know this story," the border guard adds.

"There are different categories of people. There are those who have suffered greatly, lost their homes and income. I can understand if a person has lived his or her life in one place and now has to leave everything behind and look for a new place in the world and hope that someone will help. But there are people who just go in hope of a better life – I don't understand them," says Volodymyr Starynets, who served in Bakhmut before being assigned to Zakarpattya. "Although I feel sorry for them in my own way, because they don't realize that if the army hadn't come to the defense of the country, all this might not have happened.”

Lesya Fedorova adds that in the first months of the full-scale invasion, there were many situations when it was morally difficult to work. We often came across people who were fleeing the strikes and occupation. But now the violators are mostly motivated by cold calculation.

"My personal opinion is that the country needs to be protected at all levels. Both the people and the government must work for this defense systematically and constantly," says the border guard's husband, who mobilized in the first days of the full-scale invasion and is now serving in Sumy Oblast. "But not everyone has the strength of mind or a clear focus and understanding of how important it is to have your own flag, language, and your own nook of the world.”