It was the summer of 2016 in the Promzona, a frontline position in Donbass, a region that remains the most violent site in the ongoing war in eastern Ukraine, a conflict pitting Ukrainian regulars against Kremlin-backed Separatists who many suspect are simply Russian military . The Promzona is an industrial tract built into an area known for fuel refineries, and it resembles a Hollywood set of what people think war looks like: abandoned homes with traces of past lives strewn about and streets pocked with the unmistakable flowers of shell explosions. Stray dogs lurk among dirty children’s toys and piles of discarded clothes, begging for food from those who’ve refused to leave their homes even in the face of grinding conflict.

Yuri was holding a Kalashnikov assault rifle and was decked out in a tactical vest and balaclava when I first met him. We were huddled inside a rusted Brink’s-style armored van, converted into a frontline vehicle meant to withstand bullets and roadside bombs, as the shelling started.

Yuri, then a member of the Ukrainian special forces, who asked to be identified only by his first name, sat motionless, completely unfazed, as we waited, listening to the whistles and pings of bullets and the occasional boom of an artillery round. He’d been in this van and this place for too long.

“The soundtrack of Ukraine,” he said with a shrug, gesturing to the outside noises with his eyes. He’d go on to fight for another six months.

When Yuri’s war ended he came home. The job was over. And the new one—of reintegrating as a civilian and making a living—had begun.

Still reeling from the 2014 political revolution that overthrew the pro-Russian Ukrainian government, Ukraine, home to 45 million people, has nearly 8 million citizens ages 14 to 29, many of whom have seen war. The West seems to have largely forgotten about the war in Donbass, though Ukrainian government figures show almost 350,000 soldiers have fought in the active conflict, which at press time had left more than 10,000 dead. Many of these military personnel are Millennials who have been sucked into the labor of war and now face uncertain prospects in a country rife with Soviet-era boomer corruption, an uneven economy, and a lack of job opportunities.

As one of the largest and most disempowered demographics in this eastern European nation, Ukraine’s youth are at a crossroads. According to an extensive 2017 sociological survey of Ukrainian Millennials by the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung Foundation and the New Europe Center, a Kiev-based, pro-EU think tank, the top concern among young people is economic security. Only 1 percent of respondents said they make enough money to live comfortably, while the rest said they struggled to pay bills, find a well-paying job, and be otherwise independent.

"Many of these military personnel are Millennials who have been sucked into the labor of war and now face uncertain prospects in a country rife with Soviet-era boomer corruption, an uneven economy, and a lack of job opportunities."

“Millennials come in all stripes and with all sorts of backgrounds, including some veterans of the war,” Matthew Rojansky, an expert on Ukraine at the Washington, DC–based Wilson Center, told me. “They, and others affected directly and indirectly by the war, have had and will continue to experience some of the problems that are associated with all wars—PTSD, displacement, disconnection from their families and communities. These things will necessarily complicate their prospects in every sense, including gainful employment.”