When Nate heard his cousin JD Vance attack Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in the Oval Office of the White House, he flew into a rage. In his camper van, lost on the roads of the American West that he has been crisscrossing since his return from Ukraine in January 2025, Nate was disappointed. Disappointed in this cousin, a few years his junior – Nate is 47 – whose integrity he has never stopped defending. " JD is a good guy, intelligent," he explains. "When he criticized aid to Ukraine , I told myself that it was because he had to please a certain electorate, that it was the game of politics. But what they did to Zelensky (with Donald Trump, Editor's note) was an ambush of absolute bad faith," he fulminates.
Nate and JD share grandparents: JD's mother Beverly is the sister of Nate's father, James. The two men have vacationed together, in Middletown, with JD's family, or in California, where Nate's family briefly lived. JD Vance's career took off in 2016 when he published Hillbilly Elegy , which chronicles his chaotic childhood as a "little white boy" in Appalachia. In 2023, he was elected senator from Ohio. The following year, in 2024, he became the 50th vice president of the United States alongside Donald Trump. Meanwhile, Nate chooses to embark for Ukraine and its muddy trenches, to fight the Russians.
Vance family photo, New Year's Eve 2012. JD poses with his wife in the center, Nate is on the right
“Being your family doesn’t mean I’m going to accept you killing my comrades,” Nate Vance fumes. The soldier methodically responds to his cousin’s argument, stressing the benefits the United States has gained from its involvement in the war, the good use of American equipment on the front lines… “I was disappointed. When JD justifies his distrust of Zelensky by the “reports” he’s seen , I thought I was going to choke, ” he complains. “His own cousin was on the front lines. I could have told him the truth, without pretense, without personal interest. He never tried to find out more,” he sighs. However, Nate has tried several times to contact his cousin. “From Ukraine, reaching a senator is not easy,” he admits. “But I left messages at his office. I never heard from him,” the soldier laments.
"I wanted to help"
Nothing really predisposed Nate Vance to enlist in a Ukrainian volunteer battalion to fight the Russian army. Nate did spend four years in the army, in the Marines, but that was twenty years ago, between the ages of 18 and 22. From 2001 to 2022, he led the quiet life of an average American in San Antonio, Texas. For years, he patiently climbed the ladder of an oil company. His social media footprint shows a man of deep-rooted Republican convictions, practicing hunting and sport shooting.
“I could see that history was being written in front of me, I wanted to be part of it.”
When war broke out in 2022, Nate quickly realized that this conflict was different from others. “I wanted to go see. Out of curiosity. And for the adventure too. It’s not very admittable, but it’s the truth,” he confides. In March 2022, three weeks after the invasion began, Nate went to Lviv, in western Ukraine, which had become, during the first months of the war, the nerve center of international humanitarian assistance. “I wanted to help in some way, in logistics or medical support. I could see that history was being written in front of me, I wanted to be part of it,” he continues.
Trench warfare
“He was much older than us. Much older than the other foreign volunteers, even,” recalls Dima, who fought with him in the battalion, nicknamed “Da Vinci’s Wolves,” after the unit’s founder. “On the first day, we went to the shooting range. He took a simple Kalashnikov, without a sight, and set up 800 meters from the target. Everyone laughed at him. When he hit the metal target five times in a row, the laughter stopped,” he laughs. In the evening, the unit’s officers gather to plan upcoming operations. “A lieutenant was listing our equipment needs. The commander interrupted him: ‘I only need Nate and his Kalashnikov.’ That’s how Nate got into the group,” adds another of his comrades.
Nate joined Honor, a group of Ukrainian nationalists who were already on the front lines in 2014 during the Maidan revolution. “Some of them were just kids. But they had a rage, a strength,” he confides. Over the weeks, Nate learned to navigate among these new comrades, who all volunteered to join the front. “There were lawyers, teachers, engineers… They left everything to defend their homeland,” he sighs.
Despite the language barrier, Nate helped professionalize this volunteer unit , which was not yet formally integrated into the regular army. “It was more of a militia than a unit. A group of citizens who organized and equipped themselves to defend their country,” describes the Texan. “And the real difference between a militia and a professional unit is the effectiveness of communication. So that’s what we worked on,” he adds. In the unit, few soldiers spoke English, and the beginnings were difficult, until he met “Alf,” a muscular nuclear engineer and father who spoke fluent English. “He became my Ukrainian chaperone,” he jokes.
Faced with incomprehension
For two and a half years, Nate lived with this brotherhood he had chosen for himself. His unit evolved. From a volunteer regiment assigned to support missions, the "Da Vinci Wolves" were given increasingly demanding assignments. " Now we are an assault unit. Our job is to attack positions or defend them," summarizes Serhii Filimonov, the current commander of the battalion. "I have to admit, it was not the same as my missions with the Marines in Europe," laughs Nate. Modestly, the veteran recounts the trenches and the death, the mud and the blood. The comrades who fell, the enemies he killed. "Giving death is not trivial, that's for sure. But there is not much to say. You compartmentalize your mind. You don't think about it," he says simply.
“I hope to continue to defend Ukraine in another way, it really needs it.”
“Nate is an excellent fighter, with remarkable composure,” recalls Serhii Filimonov, the battalion’s current commander. In his command center near Pokrovsk, where his unit holds the southern flank of the city, the imposing 30-year-old tries to count the times he thought he was going to die alongside Nate Vance. “Fifteen times we should have died. Fifteen times we got away,” he smiles. Serhii recalls the trench in the Bakhmut region where the two men were trapped for hours in 2023 under the methodical pounding of Russian artillery. “That time, we said goodbye,” he recalls.
Retired from the battlefield, Nate is now looking for a publisher to publish his war memoirs. “I hope to continue to defend Ukraine in a different way, it needs it,” he says, modestly. A lifelong Republican, he now faces incomprehension from people with whom he has always agreed. Even in his own family. On Facebook, his mother, Donna, adopts JD Vance’s vehemence against Volodymyr Zelenky, going so far as to call him a “pretentious little shit.” From the arid roads of the American West that he now crisscrosses, Nate despairs over the latest developments in the conflict and the American turnaround. “Donald Trump and my cousin clearly think they can placate Vladimir Putin. They are wrong. The Russians are not about to forget our support for Ukraine. We are Vladimir Putin’s useful idiots,” he laments.
Posted by QuantifiablyAwesome
2 Comments
The size he doesn’t have on his cheeks he has on his balls
If I had a penny for every time a MAGA freak had a virtuous relative fighting in Ukraine, I’d have two pennies, but it’s weird that it happened twice.