‘I’m not afraid of prison — I’m afraid I won’t make it there alive’ How a Russian draftee, tortured by his commander, fled the army and continues to evade capture
Alexey Kulyaev, a 37-year-old draftee from Novosibirsk, fled the Russian army in September and has been on the run ever since. While in the army, Kulyaev was tortured by his own commander, who had him chained to a tree and beaten for days on end. After word of the abuse got out, public outrage prompted his transfer to another unit. But when the army tried to send him back to his former regiment, Kulyaev decided to flee. In an interview with the independent Okno project, Kulyaev said he would rather face trial and serve prison time for refusing to fight than return to the “pure hell” of the front lines. Meduza shares a summary of his story.
In August 2024, Russian draftee Alexey Kulyaev sent a desperate message to his ex-wife and friends: “Help! I’ve been chained up for five days, they beat me and threatened to kill me.” Soldiers sympathetic to his plight had smuggled him a phone, fearing that the “deranged colonel” targeting Kulyaev might turn on them next.
The story soon made headlines, causing an uproar that eventually led to Kulyaev’s release. “On the first night after the story came out, they beat me again and said, ‘That’s it. Start counting your days — you’re as good as dead.’ Then, out of nowhere, they unchained me, dragged me into the woods, and chained me to another tree for three days. They said inspectors had shown up, so they were hiding me from them,” Kulyaev recounted. “After three more days of beatings, they finally unchained me and took me in a truck from Avdiivka to a military airfield near Rostov [in Russia].”
According to Kulyaev, he was transported along with “about a dozen refuseniks,” some of whom were also badly beaten. “I don’t know if any of them had been chained up like me. After everything, you just don’t trust anyone enough to talk openly,” he explained. “But one of the guys was so badly beaten — just to a pulp. He was covered in blood, his body black and blue with bruises. Another guy had been thrown in a pit for refusing to fight — same thing, complete pulp.”
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‘You’re going to die for your country’
Kulyaev was mobilized back in September 2022. He got a phone call instructing him to report to the military enlistment office for registration but was drafted immediately. At the time, Kulyaev was facing charges for assaulting a police officer. When he returned home on leave in July 2023, he was sentenced to probation and required to check in with police and military authorities regularly — a condition he says he fully complied with.
Then, in August 2024, Kulyaev discovered he had been listed as a deserter. His old regiment had been disbanded, and he’d been reassigned to the 239th Guards Tank Regiment without notice. “They didn’t care that I have to report for probation or that I had health issues. They took me straight to the front,” said Kulyaev.
Kulyaev was deployed to Avdiivka alongside other new arrivals. “They drink constantly in the 239th — it’s mostly contract soldiers and former convicts,” he recalled. “The commanders walk around drunk and pick fights with the soldiers. They lined us newcomers up and started cursing us out every way imaginable, treating us like garbage.”
Once, when Kulyaev asked the colonel not to insult his subordinates, the colonel’s deputy grabbed him by the throat and began choking him. “Next thing I know, the colonel orders me chained up. The same with the other guys who tried to intervene. That night, as I lay chained to the ground, they surrounded me, pepper sprayed my face, and started kicking me, saying, ‘Count your days, bitch.’”
After receiving Kulyaev’s message, his ex-wife filed a complaint with the FSB in Novosibirsk, detailing his account of the beatings, torture, and death threats. She never heard back. After the story made the news and Kulyaev was sent to Rostov, he and another soldier were transferred to a unit near Chebarkul, a town in Russia’s Chelyabinsk region.
“We were stuck there in limbo. They registered us as sappers and said, ‘We’ll deal with you soon.’ We thought they were going to investigate the colonel’s abuse. But no one — not a single person — ever asked me about the beatings or the hell I went through. Not a word. Then, in mid-September, they hit me with, ‘You’re going back to the 239th Regiment!’ I said, ‘Where are you sending me? To my death? I’d rather go to prison. I refuse. Take me to court!’ And they just laughed, ‘Who cares about you? What court? You’re going to the regiment to die for your country.’”
Kulyaev described the conditions in Avdiivka as “pure hell.” “Out of a company of 100, only 12 would come back,” he said. “I stayed in touch with the few who were still alive back there. They told me the unit had been redeployed near Vuhledar, but otherwise, nothing had changed. Now, I have no one left to call — they’re all dead.”
During one of his last calls with his unit mates, the colonel sent Kulyaev a message: “They’ll send you back to me, and you won’t leave alive.”
Family members of Kulyaev’s comrades corroborated his account. “In that regiment, it’s routine to beat people, chain them up, throw them in pits, and threaten to kill them,” said Svetlana, the wife of another soldier. “If someone refuses to fight, they’re as good as dead — ‘killed in action’ on paper. No prosecutor will help you.”
“There was no way I was going back willingly,” Kulyaev said. “I had no choice but to run.”
‘They’ll catch you eventually’
On September 18, Alexey Kulyaev requested permission to visit a clinic in the city. His commanders agreed, but only on the condition that someone accompany him. Kulyaev brought a backpack, explaining that he needed to take his clothes to a laundromat.
After his appointment, Kulyaev told his chaperone they’d need to wait for the test results. The chaperone stepped away briefly to grab a drink from a nearby store, instructing Kulyaev to stay put. “As soon as he walked off, I took off through the courtyards, running blindly. Then I called a taxi to Chelyabinsk and, from there, hitchhiked along the highway,” Kulyaev recounted.
Now on the run, Kulyaev was acutely aware of the risks of being tracked. “I knew taking a commuter train, regular train, or bus was pointless — they’d catch me. I sold my phone to some of the guys for cash, which lasted me a little while. Then I took a chance and tried to use my card. I paid, stepped aside, and waited. Within minutes, the military police showed up. I had to ditch the cards. So the money I earned during mobilization? I can’t even use it,” he said.
Legal help has been another obstacle. Most lawyers he contacted lacked experience, charged exorbitant fees, or couldn’t guarantee he’d even face trial. “From what I’ve seen, every refusenik ends up dragged back in chains along the same road they used to flee,” Kulyaev said. “I’m not afraid of prison — I’m afraid I won’t make it there alive.”
His main concern, though, is for his family. Since his escape, military police have been harassing his relatives, even keeping tabs on his disabled mother. “They’ve been pressuring and monitoring them, as if I’m so stupid I’d actually go live with them. I feel like I’ve put a target on their backs. They can’t live like this,” he said.
With no passport or military ID, Kulyaev says he’s stuck in limbo. And while his mobilization documents prove he was drafted in September 2022, military authorities falsely claim he’s a contract soldier. According to Kulyaev, they even lied to his mother, telling her he volunteered to fight.
Kulyaev hopes public attention to his story will at least buy him enough time to face trial for desertion rather than being sent straight back to the front. For now, he remains on the run, carefully avoiding security cameras, major intersections, banks, train stations, and bus stops. When hitching rides, he insists everyone wear seatbelts and that drivers strictly follow traffic laws to avoid triggering road cameras.
Ivan Chuvilyaev of Get Lost, an organization assisting Russian deserters, says leaving the country is the most viable option for soldiers on the run. “Hiding from cameras, avoiding cards, not using phones or public transport — yes, in theory, he’s doing everything right. But in practice, that’s not enough. There are periodic raids in every city, and the police are more focused on catching deserters than actual criminals. You can hide for a few months, but it’s impossible to do so indefinitely — they’ll catch you eventually,” Chuvilyaev said. “But it’s possible to leave the country even with an internal Russian ID. We’ve had successful cases with even more challenging circumstances.”
