Czech Volunteer Dies Fighting in Ukraine: Mother’s Story

A Czech mother is grappling with the loss of her son, Jiří, who died fighting in Ukraine. The case underscores the growing number of foreign nationals who have joined the conflict and the difficult circumstances surrounding their deaths.

Lucie Kotrlová said she had been experiencing a growing sense of dread for the past two months. “For the last two months, I felt immense inner tension. Then I just knew someone would call and tell me Jiří was dead,” she recounted.

Her worst fears were confirmed more than two weeks ago. “His comrade called me. He saw Jiří’s belongings were left at their barracks and that there had been no contact. He found Jiří’s cell phone and dialed his mother’s number,” Kotrlová explained.

Kotrlová, who once studied Russian in school, struggled to understand the initial fragmented reports. Several days later, she received official notification – a brief statement confirming her son’s death as a soldier with the Ukrainian armed forces. He had been reported missing since August 29.

We met with Kotrlová in a quiet office near the Archbishop’s Palace in Olomouc. “Jiří used to come here as a child for piano lessons. My friend is from our parish community and has been a great support to me during this time,” she said.

She paused, collecting her thoughts. Speaking with a firm voice, despite the pain of discussing her only child in the past tense, Kotrlová described raising Jiří as a single mother. He had a deep love for animals and shared countless experiences with her – attending plays and performances throughout their lives. “He was never superficial. He couldn’t just do things by the book. He always immersed himself completely. In fifth grade, he was assigned a four-panel comic strip and ended up drawing twenty, because he wanted to tell a story.”

Jiří studied stone masonry at the Secondary School of Applied Arts in Uherské Hradiště until 2017. His former teachers remember him as an exceptional student. “I remember him sitting for hours, completely focused and deeply engaged with his work. He would draw hands, for example. While others had finished, he would still be studying the details. He was a quiet, intelligent, and gifted boy,” recalled his former class teacher, Karla Stránská.

Sculptor Zdeněk Tománek mentored Jiří in the school’s studios. He described Jiří as capable of spending twelve hours straight on a single piece, possessing a strong visual mind and a relentless pursuit of his interests.

Looking through a portfolio of his student’s work, Tománek pointed out two of Jiří’s pieces. He recalled a recurring motif in Jiří’s art. “I remember noticing a cross in his work. It felt like a memorial, a small mound,” he said.

The school’s art studios are located in a building that once housed a justice palace, adjacent to a former prison. The prison was used by the Nazis to detain political prisoners before they were transported to concentration camps, and later by the communist regime for torture. Public executions were once carried out in the prison yard. A museum dedicated to the totalitarian era is planned for the site.

“I always said that one of the most important human qualities is courage – the willingness to stand up to injustice. Jiří was driven by a sense of purpose. He wasn’t seeking adventure; he felt it was the right thing to do. He wanted to do something where he could help,” his teacher explained.

Last week, the school posted on social media, at Kotrlová’s request, announcing that Jiří, a former student, had died. The school later had to limit discussion due to a wave of hateful comments. “It sparked a huge campaign. I teach information technology, but I was surprised by how much hateful reaction there was. We had to block some commenters. It was clear they were trolls,” Stránská said.

“He was our student. He’s part of our collective memory. I can’t understand the hateful comments. A young man died. It’s terrible,” said school principal Ivo Savara.

Kotrlová remembers Jiří carrying a large backpack filled with tools – wrenches, pliers, screwdrivers, and saws – to school, even using them during breaks. He left school early in 2017, in his third year, seeking his own path, according to his mother.

His Slovakian father had worked as a doctor in Kyiv before the war, and Jiří lived there for about two years, making friends and adopting Nela, a Vizsla, whom he later brought back to Olomouc. “In 2019, my father died. Jiří returned, then the COVID pandemic hit,” Kotrlová explained.

In 2023, Jiří took a job as a welder in the Netherlands and asked his mother to care for Nela. “Jiří wasn’t desperate. We were in regular contact. He always asked about me, family, and the dogs, if I needed anything. We sent each other photos and videos.”

Kotrlová admits Jiří never told her about his decision to go to Ukraine to fight. “I completely understand. We were alone. He knew I would worry and be afraid. But I suspected something. Around March, he sent me a photo of him praying at Holy Water, with some icons in the background. I knew not to ask. I just would have made things harder for him. I prayed and lived in fear,” she recalled.

She hadn’t heard from her son since the end of July, living for months in agonizing uncertainty until a comrade contacted her in November.

“He told me that Jiří helped everyone until the very end. As far as I know, he was never a coward. He crossed the border, found himself in intense fighting, and couldn’t have acted any other way,” she said.

Despite this, she is left with many unanswered questions. Jiří’s body has not been recovered, and the location of his belongings remains unknown. “When someone dies in a car accident, from illness, or by their own hand, you can process it in certain ways. But in this case, he gave his life for his own decision. It’s just an unusual situation, and people don’t have a framework for dealing with it,” she said.

Kotrlová and her friends are now working to gather information and are in contact with the Czech Ministry of Foreign Affairs. She hopes to learn more about her son’s final moments and the whereabouts of his belongings. “The Ukrainians surely have some records. I’m also waiting to see if there’s a chance Jiří’s things will be returned from the front lines. Then I’ll think about a church memorial service and invite those who knew him,” she said.

For now, she wants to avoid the bureaucratic process, anticipating insensitive questions. She knows that a declaration of death could take years.

“The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is in close contact with the family of the Czech citizen reported missing and has provided them with all currently available information. The Ministry and the embassy in Kyiv are actively involved in the matter. We must remember that a war is ongoing in the country, and information is coming in gradually,” said ministry spokesperson Mariana Wernerová.

Wernerová added that if a Czech citizen dies as a result of the armed conflict, the Ukrainian army, the Czech embassy in Kyiv, and the family will communicate to address specific issues, including repatriation.