After that, Artiom spent 13 months in three different detention centers in the United States before his asylum application in America was denied.
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Then the Donald Trump administration ordered him to be shackled and returned to Russia, where he faced up to 10 years in prison.
When the plane landed in Moscow, security officers noticed that 27-year-old Artiom was wanted by the military prosecutor’s office. At that moment, his despair over the actions of Russia and the United States turned into bitter resignation.
“Go to hell all of you. Do whatever you want. I know I am right,” the former Russian soldier told himself.
“I accepted my fate. Basically, I was ready to die,” Artiom added.
The newspaper The New York Times first reported about A. Vovchenko last year when he was included in the mass deportation campaign carried out by the Trump administration.
After that, the man faced confrontation with the Russian system, which was overcrowded with soldiers who had fled or were wounded from the Ukrainian front. This is a system that, despite the authoritarianism of Kremlin master Vladimir Putin during the aggressive war, has many gaps.
At the military base where Artiom awaited trial, days turned into weeks. The man’s desire to fight for his future returned. He said he quietly waited for the right moment, prayed every night, and focused his discipline gained through many years of martial arts training. He began to devise an escape plan.
“I just put my hopes in the Lord,” A. Vovchenko said. “I thought if God helps me on this path, then it means it is meant to be. If He doesn’t let me through, well, then that is my fate.”
“What the hell is this?”
Artiom, the son of a security guard and a hairdresser, grew up in modest conditions in a provincial town in southern Russia. After finishing college, he was drafted into the army and, as he says, then forced to serve another year under contract.
When in 2022 V. Putin launched a large-scale invasion of Ukraine, A. Vovchenko was shocked: he had long considered Ukrainians his brothers.
“I couldn’t accept it, I thought: what the hell is this? Why?” he confessed.
Convinced that his unit would soon be sent to Ukraine, Artiom fled. At first, he went to Indonesia, where he taught jujitsu, and later to Mexico, from where in 2024 he crossed into the United States to seek asylum.
The man ended up in a detention center in Mississippi. There, as he said, he worked in the kitchen for $1 a day, cooking porridge. One day, while carrying a pot weighing about 70 kg, he said he slipped and injured his back.
“Even in the army, where I really faced misconduct, I never experienced anything like how they treated us there,” A. Vovchenko said.
A spokesperson for the Department of Homeland Security disputed the Russian soldier’s words, emphasizing that “any claim that ICE facilities have unacceptable conditions is false.”
“Brutal stress”
Last summer, after losing his case in the United States, A. Vovchenko was shoved onto a military plane.
He thought his last chance to save his freedom was to convince Egyptian authorities during a stopover in Cairo to allow him to go to Indonesia, where he still had a valid visa, rather than to Russia.
Although the conversation began with a series of polite requests, very quickly everything took a bad turn.
The man went to the airport restroom, grabbed a pipe, and declared he would go nowhere. According to him, Egyptian officials attacked him and started beating his chest. Artiom recalled a sharp pain piercing his back. Then one guard grabbed him by the shirt collar and tried to strangle him.
Finally, according to him, a man with a gun entered and threatened to shoot him.
Hearing the threat, A. Vovchenko stopped resisting. The guards lifted the man, tied his hands and feet “like a sausage,” and took him to the plane flying to Moscow.
“Like an alien”
Returned to Russia, Artiom took advantage of the chaos in the war-torn Ukrainian military system.
At first, he was held for two days in a military prison, then sent to a base outside Moscow. Although this base is usually intended for training communications system specialists, it currently also operates a detention center for soldiers.
The center’s cells were full of wounded soldiers, most of whom suffered from mental illnesses or rapidly deteriorating health conditions.
Artiom admitted that the overall atmosphere here was better than what he encountered in the detention center in the United States. Even some Russian officials treated him like a human being, even if they cursed soldiers, calling them “traitors.”
He was not guarded as strictly as in a traditional Russian prison. According to the man, authorities did not confiscate his phone or passport, and only checked his bag looking for weapons. Artiom said that the center’s officials hardly knew people like him who had spent several years abroad. Despite his objections, comrades nicknamed him “the American.”
“To be honest, I was like an alien to them,” A. Vovchenko noted.
Due to the large number of wounded in the detention center, the young man had no opportunity to use the services provided by state healthcare institutions. He saved some money and became one of several dozen detainees whom the center’s guards regularly took to local private healthcare facilities.
According to doctors, Artiom has three intervertebral hernias, one of which protrudes from the spine by as much as 11 millimeters.
During the few months of doctor visits, the guard waited for him to appear to take him back to the base. Then he began to devise a plan on how he could escape.
“It’s like preparing for a competition,” he confessed. “You can’t just spend time on the competition itself. It’s important to focus on specific tasks, the most important details, and then accomplish them.”
“Completely lost”
Artiom said that one day he arrived at the medical facility and, as soon as he disappeared from the supervisor’s sight, he left and hailed a taxi. He was ready.
The man knew exactly which route he would take and how to avoid being pursued. He calculated that he had about three hours to leave the Moscow region before the announced search would catch him.
He faced a long prison sentence or forced travel to the front line, so the risk seemed worth it.
“I just couldn’t force myself to give up, to let my whole life just slip away,” A. Vovchenko said.
When he was held in pre-trial detention at the military base, Artiom’s name was removed from the wanted persons list. According to him, this is the usual procedure in Russian courts.
The man traveled by various means of transport to the border with Belarus, where free movement to and from Russia is allowed. He read about the possibility of leaving Russia through Belarus online after other Russians opposing the war, including punk protest group Pussy Riot member Maria Alyokhina, publicly spoke about such a route.
The underground organization Rapid Unit, which helps Russian political prisoners reach a safe place, verified Artiom’s identity and provided him with the necessary assistance, said one of its representatives, who spoke anonymously for security reasons.
Members of the same organization helped coordinate the former soldier’s departure, mainly providing assistance in Belarus. The group adapted the plan to changed circumstances and, together with partner groups, took care of tickets, logistics, and finding temporary housing.
The Rapid Unit representative said the route had to be changed several times, but eventually A. Vovchenko managed to leave Belarus for a safer place.
The New York Times agreed not to disclose his current residence for security reasons.
Having regained his freedom, A. Vovchenko is trying to get his life back on track. He is still plagued by back pain, and his money has run out.
“Right now I feel completely lost,” he admitted.
Dmitry Valuyev, head of the US-based organization Russian America for Democracy in Russia, which helps Russians seeking asylum, organized a charity campaign to help Artiom settle. However, only $2,000 of the planned $12,000 has been raised so far.
The man admitted that he regrets mistakenly thinking that the United States was the place where he would be welcomed. Moreover, as he added, he had insufficient knowledge about the US immigration system.
Artiom confessed that he is currently trying to get rid of paranoia about constantly needing to run and stop nightmares in which people constantly appear trying to catch him.
After several weeks of independent efforts to heal his back pain, he recently managed to participate in a jujitsu tournament.
“I have my goals, my dreams,” Artiom said. “I just want to live my life.”
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This article was published in The New York Times.
© 2026 The New York Times Company
