
By Erin McFee, Corioli Institute.
This article is based on interviews with twelve SOF veterans and former POWs who operated in the Kharkiv, Donetsk, Mariupol, and Dnipro regions, with support from the Restart Veterans Hub in Kharkiv and the humanitarian US-Ukraine NGO Tip of the Spear Landmine Removal. Research was generously funded by the R.T. Weatherman Foundation.
When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the frontlines were chaotic. But many of Ukraine’s Special Operations Forces (SOF) found themselves facing a crisis of command even as they navigated the unrelenting onslaught of missiles raining down around them.
“By day three, our commander shut down completely,” recalled one retired colonel who had served with the Donetsk regional command. “He just stared into space, drooling, unable to speak.” That commander, second-in-command of the local SOF group, was relieved on the spot—not by formal order, but by necessity. “I handed him a rocket launcher and told him to walk to Kyiv.”
This moment captures a broader transformation that Ukrainian SOF experienced during the full-scale invasion: the collapse of traditional military hierarchies and their replacement with something more primal and effective—leadership earned through competence under fire.
Mission First, Rank Later
From this institutional breakdown emerged something remarkable: a new model of military leadership that prioritized competence over hierarchy. The war’s initial wave of volunteers created what veterans describe as a “field of trial by fire.” Those who survived quickly understood that rank meant nothing in the trenches—what mattered was who could bring you home.
“We followed the ones who kept us alive, not the ones with the highest rank,” explains one veteran. “Some guy with thirty years of service could be completely useless, while a 25-year-old with six months of combat experience became the guy everyone looked to for decisions.”
With command structures faltering, many SOF units fell back on fundamentals: follow the leaders who get results. “One moment, I was a junior sergeant, and the next, I was organizing evacuations and coordinating artillery fire,” an Alpha group team leader recalled. “It wasn’t about ambition—it was about keeping your brothers alive.”
These improvised decentralized leadership structures had the dual benefit of being functional and effective. The same Donetsk SOF veteran who handed his commander a rocket launcher and a map to Kyiv completed multiple high-risk operations without losing a single man, despite facing overwhelming odds. “Thanks to proper planning and careful preparation, nobody died,” he says. “But that was because we had people who could adapt when the circumstances demanded it.”
From Combat to Collapse: The Reintegration Gap
Even among seasoned operators, trauma has taken its toll. One spouse described the nightly terror of her husband’s episodes—finding him curled up in different corners of their home, with no memory of what had happened. “In his sleep, he grabs my hand and says, ‘Don’t worry. I will save you.'” He was one of just 50 survivors out of 1,200 fighters in one of the earliest battles. In the aftermath, his wife is left with only three tools: “pain, grief, and love.”
Today’s challenge comes not just from the visible and invisible wounds of war, but from returning to a civilian world that mirrors the institutional shortcomings they experienced during service. Government reintegration programs remain inadequate, with veterans describing a Ministry of Veterans Affairs that “doesn’t even respond to emails.” “After my injury, I waited three months for a prosthetic,” one SOF amputee said. “Rehab lasted one week. That was it.”
For its part, the Ministry of Veterans Affairs faces the staggering task of expanding a bureaucracy struggling with 850,000 pre-war veterans to one supporting an anticipated 5-8 million veterans and their families—while political will remains focused on active front lines. One colonel who served thirty years describes the reality: “At the end of the war, between 15-19% of Ukraine’s citizens will be veterans and their family members. There’s no possibility of convincing each one individually that they need help.”
The veterans have responded by creating their own support networks, much as they did during combat—demonstrating that Ukraine’s elite operators naturally gravitate toward what has always worked best: each other.
No One Left Behind: Lessons for the Global SOF Community
Despite the chaos, a common thread runs through these accounts: veterans leading veterans. Whether launching small businesses, organizing peer support groups, or serving as either formally trained or informal therapists, Ukraine’s SOF community is holding itself together through the same principles that sustained them in combat.
“There’s a code: if we served together, I’ll help you. Period,” said a medically retired colonel who suffered 11 concussions and now runs a veteran resource center. “That’s more real than anything from the Ministry.”
The Ukrainian experience offers profound insights for the broader special operations community. The ability to operate effectively when formal command structures are challenged—a core SOF competency—proved essential not just for mission success, but for survival itself. Veterans describe applying the same principles of decentralized leadership and earned authority to navigate broken veteran support systems, build new careers, and create the community networks to fill essential gaps in available support.
“War showed us who we really are,” reflects one veteran. “When all else fails, what remains is your ability to think independently, earn trust through competence, and take care of your brothers.”
Ukraine’s SOF veterans are writing a new manual for reintegration—one that blends battlefield instincts with grassroots support, practical adaptation, and moral courage. For SOF veterans around the world, these stories offer both a mirror and a warning. The skills that make operators elite in war—initiative, resilience, team-first leadership—are just as vital when navigating postwar reintegration. But they’re not enough on their own without the brotherhood that gives them meaning.
As one operator concluded, “We never trained for this kind of war. But we adapted. And we’re still adapting—only now, the battlefield is civilian life. No one taught us how to come home. So, we’re teaching each other.”
**********
Author: Erin McFee, PhD, MBA, is the Founder and President of the Corioli Institute. She is a recognized leader in the scholarship and practice of ex-combatant reintegration and security stabilization. Erin has over 14 years of experience in security cooperation, institutional capacity building, and irregular warfare. Her work has taken her to South America, Africa, the Middle East, and Europe – including areas experiencing conflict such as Ukraine, Afghanistan, Sudan, and Somalia. She has published numerous articles and frequently is invited as a speaker at events related to her work and research.
https://www.linkedin.com/in/erinmcfee/
https://www.corioli.org
Image: Map by Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), patches submitted by author.