Talk of the town from Moscow: About lies and fantasies of victory

Anyone who claims that the war against Ukraine is not an issue on the streets of the Russian capital Moscow is wrong. All you have to do is perk up your ears to understand that comfortable life in the capital is by no means completely detached from brutal reality.

In a neighborhood not too far from the center, the lights in the offices have long since been turned off. After work, the few cafés and restaurants are busy. A young man in an army uniform, his hair cropped short, heads for a smoking area equipped with a rain cover and an improvised bench. Half a dozen young men in civilian clothes follow him in tow.

“I was so stupid and after the fourth month I let myself be beaten and signed the contract,” the uniformed man blurts out. He had been drafted into basic military service. Conscripts are not allowed to be transferred to the front during their one year of service. However, Russian law allows you to enlist as a contract soldier upon reaching adulthood - with or without basic military knowledge. From then on, these people will be available to the armed forces without restrictions. Not all conscripts can withstand the dictates of unscrupulous superiors. Among the confirmed war dead on the Russian side are a lot of 18-year-old soldiers.

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“We were immediately sent to Luhansk – that was tough,” the uniformed man continues. The Ukrainian region is almost entirely occupied by Russian troops. The narrator takes a drag on his cigarette and the others, as far as they can be seen in the semi-darkness, look eagerly in his direction. “At least I didn’t sign a contract for a storm department, you can’t get out of there alive.”

He explains that he is now allowed to move freely and freely in Moscow: He attended a music school for thirteen years, which is why he was moved to Moscow and now plays in the Ministry of Defense orchestra. He goes there every morning at 9 a.m. and is allowed to go home at 2 p.m. “I am indescribably happy to be here.” The relief gives the previously sober text a slightly emotional sound.

Nobody interrupts the monologue. Nobody allows themselves a question. But everyone present probably suspects that their acquaintance - perhaps they have known each other since school, perhaps only recently - has omitted a prosaic detail: the tranquil new place of work must have cost the family a fortune.

At the mention of his surroundings at the safe workplace, the narrator gradually becomes angry. "Everyone, from the very young to the old fat bellies, everyone wants this war to stop. Nobody wants it to continue." There is still not even a clearing of a throat or a cough to be heard; the cigarettes have long since been smoked out. “If you know people who are doing their military service, then you have to convince them that they won’t sign a contract – no matter how much they are beaten and tortured!” At least now you would like to look at the faces of those around you.

“You lie on both sides,” the uniformed officer continues. He follows closely how the war is reported. But the young frontline-experienced musician is not entirely free from great power fantasies. “Of course we would defeat Europe, but at what cost!”

The concert hall of a university is almost full that evening. After an easy introduction and a magnificent performance of Verdi's prisoner choir from the opera "Nabucco", there is an abrupt transition to songs from the height of Stalinism. When the orchestra starts the Radetzky March shortly before the climax, the audience goes into a real ecstasy.