THE Russian bullet struck the sergeant just above the left ear. The leader of the Ukrainian platoon, codenamed Gagarin, was down. Headquarters radioed a battlefield promotion to the private who had called him “brother” – a man known as Courier.
Courier knew the platoon’s orders were to move forward through the forest, on the road to Bakhmut. He hesitated near his mortally wounded commander. Then he decided: There would be no turning back. “Forward!” he howled.
