When airport worker Andrey Chuba signed up for service in the Ukrainian military, it was partly to get away from another conflict. The year was 2020, when the war with Russian proxy forces was low-intensity and confined to the country’s eastern Donbas region. But at Boryspil International Airport, outside of Kyiv, conflict was brewing between management and workers. Chuba, a security guard, had been part of a wildcat organizing effort against unpopular changes to shift schedules, and was facing reprisals from his employer. Left hanging by local union leaders, who Chuba says were in the bosses’ pocket, he felt that a three-year army contract was a decent way out. Legislation guaranteed that, in addition to his military wage, he would continue receiving his civilian pay. But that was a lifetime ago.

When we met near Kyiv’s Independence Square this past December, the city was covered in gray slush, and the threat of Russian aerial attacks had become a part of daily life. Many Kyivites have developed an ear to distinguish the booms of Ukrainian air defense from enemy hits. When kept awake at night by the howling of Vladimir Putin’s Iranian-made drones, colloquially called “mopeds,” they know their colleagues will be just as sleepy the next day.

The airport where Chuba used to work has been mothballed, pending a peace that feels more remote with each month that passes. While his military contract has been extended until further notice, legislative amendments passed since the full-scale invasion have stripped him of the civilian part of his wage. “I’m not the only one,” he tells me. “Lots of people in service are in the same situation.”