This is Robin standing in for Scott this week. My image making skills and raffle writing skills are inferior to his, plus I'm a bit sick today. I apologize for this raffle not being up to our usual UFL standards--that is to say, Scott-quality--and hope you will be interested in it anyway.

Trucks can be replaced. People can't.

Early this year, your donations bought a truck for the 101st. That truck was recently destroyed by a russian FPV. One of the soldiers we knew personally was killed in the attack. You can find out more here.

The 101st cannot ever replace the teammate they lost. Unfortunately, war waits for no one to grieve, and the 101st needs that truck replaced ASAP. The 127th will give them one; in turn, we're buying the 127th a quad to replace the truck they're giving the 101st.

It's less complicated than it sounds.

That fundraiser is about halfway to its goal at the time of this writing. This raffle's proceeds will go toward closing it. If we somehow manage to raise more, the excess will go to our tacmed fund, because I'm flying another load over at the end of October.

Our weekly update:

25th Airmobile got some 3D printer filament to help keep them in business. They're in Pokrovsk, so this is a big, big help.

The Girl Scout cookies many of you donated for are starting to reach teams and man, those boys are HAPPY.

$2 Tuesday

Arcaist's bottomless Cellar of Wonders has yielded a pleasant little pack of Ukrainicana: A commemorative coin from the Chornobyl Radiation and Ecological Biosphere Reserve; a postcard version of Ukraine's most famous postage stamp design; a fridge magnet with a fearsome Cossack; and a sweet hand-crocheted keychain.

$5 pack

The $5 pack comes courtesy of the Ewoks with the 152nd, whom you've provided with T-shirts, 3D printers, Starlinks, and power stations. They've provided a signed unit flag, along with a PVC unit patch and matching enameled pin.

How cute is drone pilot Baby Yoda? All of it. That's how cute.

In closing:

I've been thinking about which of my own experiences with Ukraine and her people to share, and I settled on one that isn't precisely mine.

When I was in Kyiv last month, I had lunch with a very nice German soldier at Ostannya Barykada, a very nice Ukrainian restaurant in the Globus mall under Maidan Nezalezhnosti. We sat at a table directly below the Lyadski Gate. You can look up through the plexiglass panels above and see ... well, the sky and butts, mostly, but the gate, too.

Ostannya Barikada, restaurant, Kyiv, Nezalezhnosti Square, 1 — Yandex Maps

I noticed that some of the plexiglass panels were cracked, as if they'd been hit by projectiles, and wondered aloud whether they'd been damaged in the 2013-2014 Revolution of Dignity. After all, there'd been a lot of fighting there.

The German told me he knew nothing about the revolution. His memory of that period starts with russia invading an annexing Crimea in early 2014. He had no real knowledge of the events which preceded that, and he started asking me questions. Insightful ones. Thoughtful ones. There's a memorial to Nebesna Sotnya, the Heavenly Hundred, the ones who were killed in the revolution, just on the opposite side of Maidan from the restaurant. I asked him if he'd like me to give him a quick little tour of it. He responded enthusiastically, and off we went.

I showed him the wall of granite portraits of Nebesna Sotnya, and the granite slabs bearing a poem in their honor and the thousands of ribbons tied on the railing around them. I showed him the little homemade tributes that flourish there--some that I remember from 2014, and some new. I showed him lampposts and trees scarred by government snipers' bullets, and the one tribute that hurts my heart every time I see it: a granite slab that says "My sons! My brothers! Forgive me for not saving you from the sniper's bullet!"

He repeatedly remarked, with something like awe in his voice, on the fact that it was just ordinary Ukrainians out there, putting their lives on the line for a Ukraine that didn't exist but that they wanted to live in. An architecture student. A seismologist. A Chornobyl liquidator. Just people.

I really thought we'd spend about 15 minutes there. We ended up spending about an hour and a half. He took in every little detail, every little fact.

He'd just been through some pretty terrible experienes. He told me over lunch that he was feeling extremely dispirited and disillusioned. As we walked back down toward Maidan, he told me that after learning what Ukrainians went through, but above all what they did, during the revolution gave him a new understanding and respect for them, and reinvigorated his will to stay and fight.

And just like that, the Ukrainian spirit, ferocity, and humor claimed another Western soul.

These are the people he's fighting for. The people I'm fighting for. The people you're fighting for.

As ever, thank you.

-Robin

Please note

Though the event description mentions a livestream, there will be none. And while we do deeply appreciate those of you who choose to donate as well as buying raffle tickets, we want to make it clear that donations are not required to enter the raffle.

11 September UFL raffle: This Wheel's on Fire

Replacing a vehicle for a team that lost theirs, and their teammate, in an attack