KYIV

“WHAT DO YOU do when you’re fighting for your life, and a world that cheered you on a year before just loses interest?”

The Ukrainian soldier kept staring at the prosthetic that extended from his knee. “It’s still out there, you know, near Robotyne.” He looked up. “The remains of my leg. In the remains of the village. Remember when Robotyne was a great victory? Except it wasn’t, was it? It was only ever a kill sack. Our offensive was defeated before it started. They gave us enough to keep us going but not enough to win. And when we didn’t win, they turned their heads away.”

He picked up his rifle and began walking down the street.

“NATO said it would stand by us for as long as it took. We didn’t read the small print, it seems.”

He raised his rifle into the firing position.

“The West may have forgotten us, but we will never forget them,” he said. “Slava Ukraine.”