The Dogs of Mariupol: Russia's Invasion and the Forging of Ukraine's Iron Generation

by Tom Mutch

When Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, Kateryna hung up her dresses, Oksana and Stanislav put down their lawyers’ briefs, and Oksen slammed shut his philosophy textbooks. Alongside thousands of their fellow citizens, they strapped on armour, picked up weapons and chose to risk their lives for the freedom and independence of their homeland. Many would never return.

Journalist Tom Mutch woke up in Kyiv on 24 February to a world changed for ever. Making a fateful choice to stay and cover the invasion, he witnessed the forging of an ‘iron generation’ of young Ukrainians. With first-hand reporting from all the war’s major battlegrounds and front lines, The Dogs of Mariupol recounts the war’s notorious encounters, such as the battle of Kyiv and the siege of Mariupol, but also recounts untold stories, like the 1st Tank Brigade’s desperate defence of Chernihiv and Ukraine’s failed assault on the Russian stronghold of Kreminna.

This is not a just triumphalist account of Ukraine’s fight. It painstakingly documents the immense human catastrophe wrought on Ukrainian society and the divisions between those who fought and those who fled. It also delves deeper into events to answer important historical questions: could the Russian plan to capture Kyiv have succeeded? Did Ukraine make a fatal error by committing for so long to the defence of Bakhmut? And could this terrible war have somehow been averted?

Genres: History, War, Politics, Nonfiction, Ukraine

320 pages, Hardcover

First published September 9, 2025

Reviews

[Dmitry · Rating 2 out of 5]

(The English review is placed beneath the Russian one)

Несмотря на то, что автор описывает свою книгу как более объективную, непохожую на остальные книги написанные авторами с сильными проукраинскими взглядами, назвать эту книгу действительно объективной я не могу. Я не могу это сделать так же по причине того, что единственное с кем общался автор за всё то время пока был вовлечён в российско-украинский военный конфликт, это либо ВСУ, либо украинцы, которые хотели показать западному журналисту свою политическую позицию, мало чем отличимую от официальной позиции украинского правительства (это не значит что она ложная, но это значит что она не полная). Так же, автор потерял несколько своих коллег на этой войне, что так же говорит о том, что автор не может быть беспристрастным. Проблема со всем этим в том, что читатель из-за этого не видит реальной ситуации за всем этим патриотическим фасадом. Я, безусловно, понимаю всё это, но тратить своё время на чтение одного и того же мне просто не хочется. Да и в целом читать однотипные тексты скучно и не информативно, т.к. приукрашенная картина реальности по своей сути бессмысленна. Конечно, зачастую в книге проскальзывают интересные и, возможно, даже искренние истории людей, чья жизнь была задета войной, но вот только трудно сформировать для себя ту картину реальности, ту картину каждодневной жизни, которая имеет место сегодня на территории Украины.

Является ли эта книга типичной литературой на данную тему? По большей части да, однако написана она всё же хорошо, в том смысле, что читать книгу было интересно. К тому же некоторые истории, как я отметил выше, описаны довольно не плохо. Впрочем, опять же, как я уже много раз отмечал в отзывах на другие книги на данную тему, истории обычных людей практически одинаковы, т.е. они все схожи своей трагичностью. Как и все подобные книги, все истории в этой книге очень короткие, почти фрагменты, одной большой…войны.

Но начну по традиции с замечания автора, согласно которому он плохо осведомлён в истории Советского Союза, так как является очередным иностранцем, который не соизволил изучить историю этого региона.

Stalin and his underlings launched a genocidal famine against Ukraine in the 1930s, the Holodomor, killing around 4 million Ukrainians.

Как и во всех подобных книгах, я и тут отмечаю, что во время голода начала 30-ых годов на территории СССР погибли не только украинцы, как то хочет продемонстрировать автор, но так же русские, казахи и белорусы. Говорить, что Сталин устроил голод в отношении украинцев, ничего не говоря про другие нации которые так же пострадали в то время от голода, значит искажать историю.

Так же автор этой книги делает всё возможное, чтобы в радиус обсуждаемой темы не попал вопрос ответственности украинских политических элит за те события, что последовали после февраля 2022 года. Я не хочу возложить всю ответственность на Украину, но лишь отмечаю бездействие украинских властей. Но больше всего меня удивило чуточку иное – отсутствие упоминания причины, почему Минские договорённости так и не были подписаны. Да, я знаю, что они не были в интересах украинского правительства, но с моей точки зрения, издержки от их подписания были намного меньшими, чем то к чему сегодня пришла Украина. В частности, автор ничего не пишет, почему Зеленский так и не подписал Минские соглашения, хотя причина этого не является ни для кого секретом. Причиной этого стали выступления участников АТО, возможно в союзе с радикальными украинскими националистами, которые не только требовали от него не подписывать Минские соглашения, но и как мне кажется, напугали Зеленского (напугали тем, что в случаи их подписания, он мог бы повторить судьбу Януковича с той лишь разницей, что бежать ему уже было бы некуда). Не снимая ответственности с РФ, я всё же читаю важным не забывать про ответственность и украинских властей, пусть и в меньшей степени.

He was elected President in 2019, riding a wave of popular anger against the establishment, in part on a platform to end the war in Donbas, which he apparently expected to be simple. ‘Just stop the shooting’ was his slogan. After negotiations with the Russians quickly broke down, he realised from bitter experience just how difficult it would be to do a deal with the Kremlin.
The Ukrainian military had not forgotten the threat from Russia, and they continued to rearm and prepare for what many saw as an inevitable larger war.

Однако главным в этой книге, что меня поразило, было не это. Я приведу очень большую цитату из книги, так как считаю её крайне важной для последующего исследования российско-украинского военного конфликта в частности в попытке дать оценку действиям, как правительства РФ, так и украинского правительства в вопросе законности ведения боевых действий.

Rather than expressing shock at the relentless Russian bombardment, the Amnesty staff seemed much more concerned with the fact that a Ukrainian Army unit had taken refuge in the basement of a college building. They were preparing a report on what Rovera told us were Ukrainian crimes – specifically, having its armed forces in cities.
<…>
These circumstances are far more common than people unfamiliar with war may realise. Schools are a series of large buildings capable of housing hundreds of people, with connected water and sewage systems, often with basements. Unlike civilian apartment blocks, they can be evacuated easily, with the military not having to worry about people who refuse to leave. In a pinch, they are an ideal military base. When the Ukrainians killed around 400 Russians who had set up base in a school in Makiivka, occupied Donetsk, this was a totally legitimate target. But Rovera was insistent that this military presence in a populated area was a ‘violation of international humanitarian law’. When I pressed her on how the Ukrainian Army was supposed to defend a populated area, she said that it was irrelevant.
By that logic, I continued, Ukraine would have to abandon the major locations such as the city of Kharkiv. ‘Well, they must avoid as far as possible taking positions in a populated area,’ she replied. ‘International humanitarian law is very clear on this.’ This is false. I suggested that her coming Amnesty International report would be criticised if it failed to differentiate between defensive and offensive operations in urban areas. But it appeared the authors’ minds had been made up: Ukraine was endangering its own civilians by the mere act of attempting to defend its cities.
<…>
When the report came out, it said that ‘such tactics violate international humanitarian law and endanger civilians, as they turn civilian objects into military targets’. Almost every sentence of the report was either a falsehood, an exaggeration or a misunderstanding of the laws and customs of armed conflict. The overall impression created was that Ukraine was using its civilians as human shields. Amnesty’s secretary general invited even more scorn when she refused to address any criticism of the report, labelling those contesting her findings ‘Ukrainian and Russian trolls’.

Что в этом отрывке важно? Здесь важно то, что благодаря этому мы можем понять, по какой причине российские войска часто своей целью делают школы, больницы, университеты и пр. Но можем ли мы утверждать, что украинская армия действительно использует гражданские постройки в качестве своих баз? Судя по тому, что пишет автор, ответ положительный. Однако для меня главное то, что автор этой книги, сознательно или нет, подтвердил такие случаи, а также дал объяснение тому, почему так часто мы видим в новостных сводках как ту или иную школу, больницу или иное подобное заведение разбомбила российская сторона. Получается очень тонкая грань, между военной необходимостью, т.е. необходимостью победить противника и тем, что такие действия фактически подставляют гражданских. В таком случаи, можно задаться тем же вопросом каким задаётся и автор книги: как в таком случаи победить российскую армию на поле боя? Этого я не знаю, да и вообще, я не даю оценку данным событиям.

Говоря про однотипность подобных книг, я так же имею в виду повторение одних и тех же идей, из-за чего возникает ощущение, что читаешь разные книги, в которых интервьюируются одни и те же люди.

‘After 2014, when it was changing, it was a breath of fresh air. Why should we be ashamed! We have such a culture! Especially when I was educated in Ukrainian literature and Ukrainian culture.’

Подобные идеи я встречаю в каждой подобной книге. Если в первых книгах я к этому относился с пониманием, то сегодня, имея некое представление о текущем состоянии дел в Украине, такая однотипность высказываний вызывает непонимание, т.к. возникает ложное ощущение, будто борьба идёт не за политический контроль над Украиной, а за языковой и культурный, что, конечно же, не является причиной того, почему война началась.


Although the author describes his book as more objective, unlike other books written by authors with strong pro-Ukrainian views, I cannot call this book truly objective. I cannot do so also because the only people the author communicated with during the entire time he was involved in the Russian-Ukrainian military conflict were either the Armed Forces of Ukraine or Ukrainians who wanted to show a Western journalist their political position, which is not very different from the official position of the Ukrainian government (this does not mean that it is false, but it does mean that it is not complete). Similarly, the author lost several colleagues in this war, which also suggests that he cannot be impartial. The problem with all this is that it prevents the reader from seeing the real situation behind the patriotic façade. I certainly understand all this, but I don't want to waste my time reading the same thing over and over again. And, in general, reading similar texts is boring and uninformative, because an embellished picture of reality is essentially meaningless. Of course, the book often contains interesting and perhaps even sincere stories of people whose lives have been affected by the war, but it is difficult to form a picture of reality, a picture of everyday life as it is today in Ukraine.

Is this book typical literature on the subject? For the most part, yes, but it is still well written in the sense that it was interesting to read. In addition, some of the stories, as I mentioned above, are quite well described. However, as I have noted many times in reviews of other books on this subject, the stories of ordinary people are practically identical, i.e., they are all similar in their tragedy. Like all similar books, all the stories in this book are very short, almost fragments of one big... a war.

But I will begin, as is usual, with a remark from the author, who states that he is not well versed in the history of the Soviet Union, as he is yet another foreigner who has not deigned to study the history of this region.

Stalin and his underlings launched a genocidal famine against Ukraine in the 1930s, the Holodomor, killing around 4 million Ukrainians.

As in all similar books, I note here that during the famine of the early 1930s, it was not only Ukrainians who died in the USSR, as the author wants to demonstrate, but also Russians, Kazakhs, and Belarusians. To say that Stalin caused the famine among Ukrainians without mentioning other nations that also suffered from famine at that time is to distort history.

The author of this book also does everything possible to avoid discussing the responsibility of the Ukrainian political elite for the events that followed February 2022. I do not want to place all the blame on Ukraine, but I would like to point out the inaction of the Ukrainian authorities. However, what surprised me most was something else entirely—the lack of mention of the reason why the Minsk agreements were never signed. Yes, I know that they were not in the interests of the Ukrainian government, but from my point of view, the costs of signing them were much lower than what Ukraine has ended up with today. In particular, the author does not mention why Zelenskyy never signed the Minsk agreements, although the reason for this is no secret to anyone. The reason for this was the actions of ATO participants, possibly in alliance with radical Ukrainian nationalists, who not only demanded that he not sign the Minsk agreements, but also, in my opinion, frightened Zelenskyy (frightened him with the fact that if he signed them, he could repeat Yanukovych's fate, with the only difference being that he would have nowhere to run). Without absolving Russia of responsibility, I still think it is important not to forget about the responsibility of the Ukrainian authorities, albeit to a lesser extent.

He was elected President in 2019, riding a wave of popular anger against the establishment, in part on a platform to end the war in Donbas, which he apparently expected to be simple. ‘Just stop the shooting’ was his slogan. After negotiations with the Russians quickly broke down, he realised from bitter experience just how difficult it would be to do a deal with the Kremlin.
The Ukrainian military had not forgotten the threat from Russia, and they continued to rearm and prepare for what many saw as an inevitable larger war.

However, what struck me most about this book was not that. I will quote a very long passage from the book, as I consider it extremely important for further research into the Russian-Ukrainian military conflict, particularly in an attempt to assess the actions of both the Russian and Ukrainian governments regarding the legality of the hostilities.

Rather than expressing shock at the relentless Russian bombardment, the Amnesty staff seemed much more concerned with the fact that a Ukrainian Army unit had taken refuge in the basement of a college building. They were preparing a report on what Rovera told us were Ukrainian crimes – specifically, having its armed forces in cities.
<…>
These circumstances are far more common than people unfamiliar with war may realise. Schools are a series of large buildings capable of housing hundreds of people, with connected water and sewage systems, often with basements. Unlike civilian apartment blocks, they can be evacuated easily, with the military not having to worry about people who refuse to leave. In a pinch, they are an ideal military base. When the Ukrainians killed around 400 Russians who had set up base in a school in Makiivka, occupied Donetsk, this was a totally legitimate target. But Rovera was insistent that this military presence in a populated area was a ‘violation of international humanitarian law’. When I pressed her on how the Ukrainian Army was supposed to defend a populated area, she said that it was irrelevant.
By that logic, I continued, Ukraine would have to abandon the major locations such as the city of Kharkiv. ‘Well, they must avoid as far as possible taking positions in a populated area,’ she replied. ‘International humanitarian law is very clear on this.’ This is false. I suggested that her coming Amnesty International report would be criticised if it failed to differentiate between defensive and offensive operations in urban areas. But it appeared the authors’ minds had been made up: Ukraine was endangering its own civilians by the mere act of attempting to defend its cities.
<…>
When the report came out, it said that ‘such tactics violate international humanitarian law and endanger civilians, as they turn civilian objects into military targets’. Almost every sentence of the report was either a falsehood, an exaggeration or a misunderstanding of the laws and customs of armed conflict. The overall impression created was that Ukraine was using its civilians as human shields. Amnesty’s secretary general invited even more scorn when she refused to address any criticism of the report, labelling those contesting her findings ‘Ukrainian and Russian trolls’.

What is important in this excerpt? What is important here is that it lets us understand why Russian troops often target schools, hospitals, universities, etc. But can we say that the Ukrainian army really uses civilian buildings as its bases? Judging by what the author writes, the answer is yes. However, the main thing for me is that the author of this book, consciously or not, confirmed such cases and also explained why we so often see in the news reports how a particular school, hospital, or other similar institution was bombed by the Russian side. There is a very fine line between military necessity, i.e., the need to defeat the enemy, and the fact that such actions actually put civilians at risk. In such cases, one can ask the same question that the author of the book asks: how, in such cases, can the Russian army be defeated on the battlefield? I do not know the answer to that question, and in general, I do not evaluate these events.

When I talk about the uniformity of such books, I also mean the repetition of the same ideas, which gives the impression that you are reading different books in which the same people are interviewed.

‘After 2014, when it was changing, it was a breath of fresh air. Why should we be ashamed! We have such a culture! Especially when I was educated in Ukrainian literature and Ukrainian culture.’

I encounter similar ideas in every book of this kind. While I was sympathetic to this view in the early books, today, having some understanding of the current situation in Ukraine, such uniformity of opinion is perplexing, as it creates the false impression that the struggle is not for political control over Ukraine, but for linguistic and cultural control, which, of course, is not the reason why the war began.

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

Of the many books published on the war in Ukraine, few manage to actually strike the right balance like this one does. As TDOM somehow threads that needle between strategic clarity and emotional resonance, offering a rare blend of analytical depth and human storytelling. Rather than leaning too far into military jargon or geopolitical abstraction, it stays grounded, anchoring itself in the real experiences of those living through the war, and the reporters covering it. What also makes the book stand out is its refusal to oversimplify.

It acknowledges the complexity of the conflict, while also somehow still making it accessible. There’s no melodrama here, no agenda-driven framing, just sharp, honest storytelling shaped by a clear-eyed understanding of what this war is, and what it is not. By the final pages, you don’t just walk away better informed; you walk away with a deeper connection to the people caught in its path, and a stronger understanding of the forces shaping its future.

For anyone closely following the war in Ukraine, or simply trying to understand what’s happening away from the news cameras, this book delivers clarity, humanity, and perspective far beyond what most others can. I highly recommend.

[Felicity Worthington · Rating 4 out of 5]

Offers a rare synthesis of on-the-ground immediacy and narrative depth. The author captures the psychological terrain of a society under siege clawing its way through an ineluctable war. Frontline journalism with the read of literature, intellectually stimulating, and emotionally rigorous. I'm eager to read more of Tom Mutch's reporting, as his work has left me keen to explore this pertinent conflict further.

[Lucy Maharjan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredibly well written by a great mind, likely to be a tearjerker in the most moving way. Mutch’s reflection of the horrors in Kyiv represents a conversation much needed, his incredible insights and commentary make this book a must read for all.

[Andrea Kerndt · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you care about truth, read this book. If you care about courage, read this book! The Dogs of Mariupol stands as one of the most urgent and important accounts I’ve read.

[JenSen Yermi · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the author's own words: "I believe this to be the first full-lenght account of the war to date in English." He's right.

[Michael Brown · Rating 5 out of 5]

Congratulations Tom Mutch. What an achievement. The Dogs of Mariupol moved me more than three years of mainstream Ukraine news!

[CATARINA · Rating 5 out of 5]

In “The Dogs of Mariupol,” Tom Mutch delivers a work of literary epic prose, exalting the valiant Ukrainian people and foreign volunteers, especially those who form the "Iron Generation" that was forged by sheer necessity. Mutch bears witness to Ukrainian trauma, resilience, and survival on the frontline, with personal risk, devotion, and courage, as outstanding reporting demands. Mutch’s testimony succeeds in spotlighting voices that deserve amplification in the political sphere while respecting their dignity and countering the voyeuristic approaches often found in journalism when tragedy strikes.

This book is a chronicle of love and grief, in which Mutch combines interviews, personal reflections, and observations from multiple trips through Ukraine before and after 2022. It is valuable not only for platforming ordinary people striving to achieve the extraordinary, but also for providing an immediate account of life in Ukraine through a plurality of worldviews. Mutch’s writing is emotionally charged while still pursuing factual rigor. Yet, the story may be larger than any single author could ever capture.

Sometimes, the (emotional) cost of bearing witness entails binary framing and cognitive closure. Trauma hierarchization and archetypal flattening in certain passages simplify a complex geopolitical reality, risking the reduction of millions of Russians to symbols rather than acknowledging them as individuals navigating circumstances (believed) beyond their control. Silence may not equal complicity, yet it often gets equated with moral failure, overlooking strategies of survival within repressive systems that limit personal agency.

Ultimately, “The Dogs of Mariupol” is a pioneering work that compels reflection on the urgency of political and humanitarian action in Ukraine. Here is to hoping for a near future where the dogs of Mariupol no longer howl in dread and where discourse rises above current diplomatic failures to build the future Ukrainians deserve. When the time comes, may Ukrainians find the space for healing and (national) reconciliation.