The language in which Ukraine passes on the experience of modern war to its allies

The world today is becoming increasingly turbulent, and there are hardly any states left that can guarantee their own security single-handedly. Even superpowers need the support of allies. When the Iranian regime attacked its neighbours in the Persian Gulf region with drones in spring 2026, partners, including the United States, turned to Ukraine for help. As early as mid-March, 201 Ukrainian military experts in countering Shaheds were working in the Middle East and the Gulf region. Volodymyr Zelenskyy remarked at the time: "There have already been cases where partners bought interceptors but still had to ask for help because they had no system for using them." Today, security is built by alliances. And to have an ally, you need a shared language of alliance. For the military, that language has become Military English – the language of common standards, procedures and documents used by the British and Canadians, Norwegians, Germans, Americans and other partners in exercises and joint operations. It is ideally suited to this purpose, but on one condition: that we master it not as a dictionary, but as a tool for thinking and explaining.

It was not always like this. For a long time, there was a feeling that we were not up to standard, not skilled enough – not good enough for NATO. Back then, English, too, was often treated as a cargo cult: people diligently reproduced the outward rituals – certificates, tests, memorised phrases – without really believing that there was any genuine substance behind them. Joining the Alliance seemed like something "nice to have" rather than a matter of our fundamental interest. After 2014, and especially since the start of the full-scale war, everything changed. Relations with our allies became a vital matter for us – a question of survival. And English became the tool without which this alliance cannot be built.

Ukraine is increasingly becoming not only a country that learns from its partners, but also a source of knowledge about modern warfare. Yet combat experience does not pass itself on. For a solution that worked at the front to become knowledge for allies, it has to be described, explained, analysed and adapted to a different military context. And at each of these stages, language plays an important role.

In September 2025, during the REPMUS/Dynamic Messenger 25 exercise in Portugal, the headquarters of the Ukrainian Navy commanded the opposing forces for the first time in NATO's history. Around 3,800 participants and 260 systems from 22 countries took part in the exercise. The scenario in which the allies practised countering uncrewed systems was shaped to a large extent by Ukrainian service members, for whom maritime drones are not an experimental technology but part of real combat experience. The commander of the NATO-Ukraine Joint Analysis, Training and Education Centre (JATEC), Brigadier General Wojciech Ozga, described Ukraine at the time not merely as a participant, but as a driving force of innovation that strengthens the Alliance's maritime resilience.

A year on, in Lublin, officers from Poland and Germany spent three weeks learning from their Ukrainian colleagues about the tactical-level use of drones, electronic warfare and reconnaissance assets during seminars organised by JATEC. Just a few years ago, we mostly talked about the opposite process: Ukrainian service members going to partners to adopt their experience and standards. That direction has not gone away. Since 2015, the British have trained 22,000 Ukrainian service members under Operation Orbital, and the Canadians more than 47,000 under Operation UNIFIER, while American instructors have worked with Ukrainian units at the Yavoriv training ground since the same year. After 2022, the British Operation Interflex alone trained more than 63,000 Ukrainians, including 11,000 instructors. And the EU training mission EUMAM Ukraine has trained more than 94,000 Ukrainian service members since 2022. At the same time, a counter-flow has emerged alongside this: Ukrainian service members are now increasingly passing on to partners the knowledge they have gained in modern warfare.

It is also important to see something else: this interaction cannot be reduced to NATO as an institution. Our key military partners are specific armies with their own traditions, doctrines and needs: the British, Canadians, Norwegians, Germans, Americans and others. These armies trained us, and now they increasingly learn from us. The UK's 2025 Strategic Defence Review explicitly sets the goal of innovation "driven by lessons from Ukraine" in drones, data and digital warfare. Norway, together with the United Kingdom, leads the Maritime Capability Coalition for Ukraine. German officers are adopting our tactical experience, and the United States, as already mentioned, has itself sought Ukrainian expertise in countering Shaheds. So we need a common language not for a single addressee, but for an entire network of alliances.

Mykhailo Fedorov, who headed the Ministry of Defence from January to July 2026, put it this way during a visit to the NSATU headquarters in Wiesbaden: "Ukraine has proven its ability to strengthen its partners. The combat experience, innovation and speed of adaptation of the Ukrainian Defence Forces are a practical contribution to the development of modern military doctrine."

Yet between combat experience and military doctrine there is one more important stage that we often underestimate. Having unique experience does not yet mean being able to pass it on. For partners, it becomes knowledge only when it has been conveyed properly: why a particular solution worked, under what conditions it was applied, what its limitations are and how it can be adapted to another army. This is precisely where language stops being merely a matter of knowing English grammar or military terminology.

The commander of the 2nd Corps of the National Guard "Khartiia", Ihor Obolenskyi, put it very clearly: "The very first NATO standard is language." As a language trainer who prepares professionals to work in English, I would expand on this idea:"In international military cooperation, language is not only an interoperability standard but also a tool that determines how accurately partners will understand Ukrainian experience and what exactly they will be able to use from it."

From a solution at the front to knowledge for allies

To understand the role of language in this process, it is worth first establishing the path that combat experience travels before it becomes knowledge that another army can use.

In NATO, this process follows a clear logic. First comes an observation, that is, a description of a problem or a successful practice. The next stage is a lesson identified, when the causes have been established and it is clear what exactly needs to change and who should do it. And only after these changes have been approved and implemented does the lesson become a lesson learned. Ukraine's Doctrine on Lessons Learned, adopted in 2025, follows a similar logic and distinguishes between an identified lesson and an implemented lesson. Behind these terms lies an important principle: experience does not become learned simply because someone has talked about it. It has to change practice. For partner armies, this may mean changes to doctrine, training programmes or planning. And almost every stage of this path requires not merely the transfer of information, but a clear explanation of it.

To put it simply, Ukrainian experience goes through at least three kinds of "translation".

The first is from action into words. Much of combat experience exists as tacit knowledge. A soldier may know how to act in a particular situation, quickly assess risks and make decisions, yet not always find it easy to explain which signals they relied on and why they chose one course of action over another. Ikujiro Nonaka, a scholar of organisational knowledge, described the conversion of such tacit knowledge into explicit knowledge (from the unconscious to the conscious) as one of the key stages of knowledge creation within an organisation. In a military context, this is especially important: experience that has not been put into words is practically impossible to pass on systematically.

The second is from Ukrainian into English. At this stage, professional terminology, grammar, pronunciation and the ability to formulate one's thoughts precisely become important. This is what people most often mean when they talk about language training for the military. However, the transfer of experience does not end there.

The third is from the Ukrainian military context into the partner's context. And this, in my view, is one of the most difficult. Tom Dyson, a researcher of military lessons-learned systems, points out that new knowledge becomes useful to an organisation only when it can be combined with what the organisation already knows and how it already works. In other words, a partner cannot simply take a Ukrainian solution and replicate it. The solution has to be aligned with the partner's own command structure, equipment, procedures and resources, and with the conditions in which a particular unit will operate.

Mechanisms that help navigate this path systematically are already emerging in Ukraine and among its partners. One of the key ones is JATEC, the first joint Ukraine–NATO structure, which has been operating in Bydgoszcz (Poland) since February 2025. Its tasks include ensuring that the experience of the Russia-Ukraine war informs the Alliance's strategy, policy, doctrine and tactics.

At the Centre's opening, NATO's Supreme Allied Commander Transformation, Admiral Pierre Vandier, expressed this need very precisely: "Russia is learning fast and we need to learn even faster." In its first year, JATEC held innovation challenges on countering guided aerial bombs, fibre-optic FPV drones and combat medical evacuation. The North Atlantic Council also approved, for the first time, Ukrainian participation in the corps-level command post exercise LOYAL DOLOS. Ukraine's Senior National Representative at JATEC, Colonel Valerii Vyshnivskyi, describes this cooperation as a partnership of equals in which Ukrainian experts and NATO analysts work together on changes to the Alliance's doctrines.

Another area is developing in parallel – the exchange of defence data. In April 2026, Ukraine and Germany signed the first such agreement for Ukraine. Among other things, it provides partners with access to combat data in DELTA and other digital systems. The Test in Ukraine initiative, in turn, gives allies the opportunity to test technologies in real wartime conditions and receive feedback on their use. Yet it is precisely here that the line between transferring data and transferring experience becomes clearly visible. Data can show a partner that a certain solution produced results. But data alone do not explain why the military chose that particular solution, which alternatives they rejected, under what conditions it worked and when it may stop working. That is why both the solution itself and the logic behind the actions need to be passed on. I would loosely call this the anatomy of a Ukrainian lesson:

1. Solution. What exactly was done.

2. Conditions. The situation in which it took place: terrain, EW density, available resources, enemy actions, timing.

3. Logic. Why this particular solution was chosen and which alternatives were rejected.

4. Result. What changed after it was applied and how this was assessed.

5. Limits. Under what conditions the solution will no longer work and how long it may remain relevant.

The first point is the easiest to convey. The remaining four are much harder. Yet it is often precisely in them that the knowledge lies for which partners study Ukrainian experience.

And here we should be honest with ourselves. Turning experience into knowledge is a major challenge, above all for us. We still lack the tools of analysis and thinking that make it possible to derive a principle from an individual combat episode, and from a principle, a recommendation for another army. That is why partners today often take our experience away like ore. They smelt iron from it themselves, process it into metal themselves, and eventually make "iPhones" out of it themselves – doctrines, training programmes, technologies. The most valuable part of this journey, and with it the added value, does not stay with us. To change this, we need two things at once: the ability to analyse our own experience, and the language in which we can convey this analysis to our allies.

Why knowing Military English is not enough

When we talk about English for the military, it is easy to reduce language training to professional vocabulary. That vocabulary is indeed indispensable. A soldier needs to know how to name the line of contact, a specific type of weapon, a unit or a procedure in English. But for passing on experience, this is not enough.

This is clear even from NATO's STANAG 6001, the standard used to assess language proficiency. The professional level of speaking is defined not only by knowledge of vocabulary or grammar, but above all by what a person is able to do with the language: respond to objections, clarify, justify decisions, address doubts, and formulate and defend a position. In other words, professional English in a military environment is needed not only to name a phenomenon correctly. It should help explain why a particular decision was made, answer a partner's questions and, if necessary, express the same idea in a different way.

It is telling how language tasks change along with Ukraine's role. In early 2024, Ihor Obolenskyi, describing how Khartiia had been built according to NATO manuals, said: "All you need is to know a little English and read the primary sources." At a stage when the main task was to study partners' approaches, the ability to work with primary sources was indeed critically important.

Passing on one's own experience, however, is harder than reading about someone else's. Here it is no longer enough to understand a text or know the right term. You have to speak, explain, argue your case, respond to unexpected questions and check whether the other person has understood exactly what you meant to convey. In fact, we are gradually moving from working with partners' primary sources to a situation in which Ukrainian military experience itself becomes one of those primary sources.

When a correct translation can still be inaccurate

There is another problem that even a good command of professional vocabulary does not solve. Over the years of the full-scale war, a whole layer of words and meanings has formed in the Ukrainian military environment that are clear within our context but have no direct equivalent in English. For example:

"Posadka". A literal translation such as "planting" will not convey the intended meaning. In a frontline context, it refers to a shelterbelt, which in English is better explained as a tree line. This is not just a feature of the landscape, but an important element of combat in steppe terrain.

"Nul". Translating this word as "zero" is not enough. It refers to the positions closest to the enemy, so for a foreign colleague it would have to be explained, for example, as forward-most positions on the line of contact.

"Vidpratsiuvaty tsil". The literal "work out" changes the meaning entirely here. Depending on the situation, it means engage or strike, that is, hitting the target.

"Evak". In Ukrainian professional speech, this word can be used quite broadly. Partner armies, by contrast, distinguish between MEDEVAC – evacuation by dedicated medical transport with care provided en route – and CASEVAC, when a casualty is moved by whatever transport is available. For staff planning, this is no longer a minor linguistic point, since the difference between these concepts determines the calculation of the forces and assets required.

"Pozytsiia". For a Ukrainian infantryman, this may be a trench or a dugout designed for a few soldiers. Without additional context, the English word position may give a partner a completely different idea of the scale of the site. Then even a phrase stating that a unit "held a position for forty days" may be understood differently from what the Ukrainian soldier meant.

Each such discrepancy may seem insignificant on its own. But when many of them accumulate, the partner ends up with a somewhat different picture of the conditions in which Ukrainian soldiers made their decisions. As a result, they may draw different conclusions from the experience they have received.

The most dangerous situation is when everyone thinks they have understood each other

Spotting an incorrect translation is relatively easy. It is much harder to detect a situation in which a conversation went ahead without any obvious problems, but the two parties came away from it with different understandings.

In linguistics, there is a concept known as let it pass, and its essence is simple: if a listener has not understood something, they do not always stop the conversation to ask for clarification. Often the unclear fragment is simply skipped, in the hope that its meaning will become obvious from the context that follows or that the detail will turn out to be unimportant. In everyday conversation, this strategy helps keep communication going. When combat experience is being passed on, however, it creates a risk, because the "unimportant detail" may turn out to be precisely the condition without which the solution will not work. That is why the responsibility of the person passing on the experience does not end at the moment they have correctly formulated their idea in English. They also need to make sure that the partner has understood it exactly as intended. In language teaching, concept-checking questions (CCQs) are used for this purpose. Instead of asking someone "Is that clear?", to which the easiest answer is "yes", we ask them to demonstrate how exactly they have understood what was said.

Military practice has a tool based on similar logic – the back-brief, in which a subordinate restates the task received in their own words. The same principle can be applied when passing on experience to allies. Instead of a formal "Is everything clear?", it is far more useful to ask: "How would you apply this in your unit?" or "Which condition do you think was key here?" The answer will immediately show whether it has been possible to convey not only the words, but also the meaning.

What is most often lost in the transfer of experience

Even when a soldier has a good command of English and uses professional terminology correctly, this does not yet guarantee that the experience will be passed on in full. The problem often lies not in individual words, but in how much of what matters remains between the lines. Management researcher Gabriel Szulanski once analysed 122 cases of the transfer of best practices within large organisations and reached an important conclusion: one of the main barriers is the complexity of the knowledge itself. A practice is difficult to transfer if the recipient lacks the context needed to understand it, or if it is unclear why exactly it produced the result it did.

In the military sphere, the stakes are much higher, but the problem is similar. In my view, four components are particularly easy to lose when Ukrainian experience is passed on.

1. Context. A solution that worked on a particular section of the front always emerges under specific conditions. These may include terrain, EW density, available resources, weather, time, the nature of enemy actions and dozens of other factors. For a Ukrainian soldier, part of this context may be so familiar that they simply do not consider it necessary to spell it out. For a partner, it is anything but obvious. If another army has not operated in similar conditions, it is harder for it to understand which factors determined the solution and without which of them the solution will no longer work. That is why context should not be left in the background, but spelled out as clearly as the solution itself.

2. The logic of the decision. Perhaps the most important question when passing on experience is not "What did you do?" but "Why did you do it that way?" A telling example is fibre-optic FPV drones, which became one of the topics of JATEC's innovation challenges. The operating principle of the technology itself is relatively easy to describe. But it is far more valuable for a partner to understand the chain of cause and effect: why the existing solution stopped working, why this particular alternative was chosen, what advantages it offered and what price came with that choice. If only the final conclusion, "we need to switch to fibre optics", is passed on, the partner will receive a ready-made instruction, but not knowledge that they can adapt to other situations.

NATO and US doctrine use the concept of commander's intent. It refers to the purpose of an operation and the desired end state, an understanding of which enables subordinates to act correctly even when the original plan no longer fits the situation. A similar logic applies to the transfer of experience. If a person knows only what was done, they can try to repeat it. If they also understand why, they can adapt that experience to new conditions.

3. Limitations and relevance. It is just as important to explain not only where a solution works, but also where it stops working. Any tactic or technology has its limitations, but Russia's war against Ukraine adds an extraordinarily high speed of change.

Ihor Obolenskyi has pointed out that amendments to Western field manuals may be issued once every six months. Meanwhile, approaches to the use of drones on the Ukrainian front can change substantially within a few weeks.

That is why, along with the experience itself, its notional "shelf life" must also be passed on. When was this solution applied? Against which enemy assets? Under what conditions? Is it still relevant now? And what changes have already taken place since this experience was recorded? Without this, a partner risks thoroughly learning the lesson of a war that has already changed.

4. Professional nuances. Finally, there is a large body of knowledge that one Ukrainian soldier does not need to explain to another. This includes familiar abbreviations, slang names, the ways units interact with each other, certain procedures and unwritten rules. Because they are so obvious, we may not even notice how much information they carry. A foreign partner, however, does not share this common context. If a particular detail is not explained, they will have to fill the gap with their own experience. And their assumption will not necessarily match Ukrainian reality. That is precisely why the transfer of military experience cannot be reduced to an accurate translation of words. The context, the logic and the connections between them must be translated too.

In language teaching methodology, there is a concept for this: "mediation". The Common European Framework of Reference for Languages identifies it as a distinct type of language activity alongside reception, production and interaction. Mediation involves not simply conveying information in another language, but explaining concepts, getting meaning across and helping people with different experiences build a shared understanding. This is precisely the role a Ukrainian soldier effectively performs when explaining their own combat experience to allies. They are not simply speaking English. They are helping a partner understand a reality that the partner may never experience first-hand.

Why a single universal Military English course is not enough

If a soldier's task is to speak English while accurately conveying professional experience, a one-size-fits-all Military English course will not be enough. After all, the communication tasks of military personnel differ significantly depending on their role and the format of their interaction with partners. For example:

• An operator or commander of a strike unit may have to explain tactics directly in the field during joint exercises. This often happens under time pressure, when they need to speak, point to a diagram, demonstrate an action and answer questions all at once.
• A staff officer working at JATEC or taking part in command post exercises has entirely different tasks. These involve working with analytical reports and taking part in wargames and professional discussions, where they need to present their assessment, argue for it and respond to partners' objections.
• A sergeant instructor training foreign military personnel needs a distinct language for teaching. They must be able to explain an action step by step, demonstrate it, check understanding, give feedback and correct a mistake in such a way that the person understands exactly what needs to change.
• An officer involved in joint planning must know the terminology and also work according to common procedures and with the same document formats as partners. It is no accident that Ihor Obolenskyi links interoperability with NATO to the moment when headquarters are able to exchange documents in the formats adopted within the Alliance.
• A combat medic works with standardised formats for evacuation requests and for transmitting casualty information. In this context, the accuracy of communication directly affects the speed of subsequent actions. Even a slight linguistic ambiguity can have far more serious consequences.

Ultimately, two service members may have the same level of English – B2, for example – yet need completely different language training. That is why I would start not only with a placement test, but also with another question: what exactly does this person need to do in English in their professional role? Who do they communicate with? What is the purpose of that communication? Do they need to give briefings, work with documentation, train partners, take part in joint planning or explain combat cases? Do they need to argue for decisions in front of a group, answer difficult questions or pass on information quickly under time pressure?

In applied linguistics, this approach is called needs analysis. Its basic principle is that the content of training should be determined not by the structure of a textbook, but by the real tasks for which a person needs the language. This is especially important for professional English, since one and the same language competence can look completely different depending on the work situation. That is why, for military personnel who interact with international partners, it is not enough to determine only the required level of English proficiency. What is needed is a communication profile for each specific role: a list of the situations in which the soldier will use English, the tasks they must perform in it, the documents they will work with and the people they will communicate with.

At the national level, an important step in this direction has already been taken. The Law of Ukraine "On the Use of the English Language in Ukraine" sets English proficiency requirements for designated categories of officers, sergeants and petty officers serving under contract, while the specific list of positions is determined by the Cabinet of Ministers. However, the list of positions primarily answers the question "Who needs English?" The next step is to answer, just as systematically, the question: "What exactly does each of these people need it for?" And then to build training on that answer.

How to prepare military personnel for the role of those who pass on experience

From my experience of working with high-level professionals, I see a simple pattern: people use English the way they were trained to use it. If their training consisted mainly of learning terminology, they will know the terms. If they practised delivering a prepared presentation, they will feel most comfortable in exactly that format.

The problem is that the transfer of military experience rarely follows a pre-written script. A partner may ask a question, request a more detailed explanation of a decision, disagree with a conclusion or try to transfer Ukrainian experience to an entirely different context. That is why language training should reproduce the real conditions of such interaction as closely as possible. I would highlight several principles:1. Practise real professional situations. A briefing, a combat case review, justifying a decision, answering questions or working with documents should be not merely lesson topics, but practical simulations.

If a soldier needs to present their experience to foreign colleagues, that is exactly what they should be doing in class. If their work involves joint planning, it is worth simulating a professional discussion in which they have to propose a solution, explain it and respond to objections. If they are going to train partners, it is worth practising not only giving instructions, but also checking understanding and giving feedback. The closer the training situation is to the real one, the fewer language challenges the soldier will have to tackle for the first time in the middle of actual international cooperation.

2. Prepare separately for what cannot be predicted. A prepared presentation can be rehearsed almost word for word. The questions that follow it cannot. Advance planning helps a person speak more accurately and fluently. But in professional communication, that is not enough. The most difficult part often begins precisely after the presentation.

A partner may ask for a detail to be clarified, question a conclusion, ask about an alternative solution, or say that the proposed approach cannot be implemented within their structure. At that moment, it is important to be able to restructure the explanation quickly. This, too, can be trained – for example, through paraphrasing exercises in which the same idea has to be explained in several ways, or through simulations in which part of the group deliberately asks difficult and awkward questions. Changing the audience is also useful: first explaining a decision to a junior sergeant, and then the same logic to a senior officer. The content remains the same, but the way it is presented changes.

3. Teach the move from a specific combat episode to a principle. One of the key skills in the transfer of experience is being able to separate a specific solution from the general principle behind it. This process can be pictured as a three-step movement. First, the soldier describes a specific case: what happened, under what conditions and what decision was made. Then they formulate a broader conclusion: what principle can be drawn from this experience. After that, they help the partner apply this principle to the specifics of the partner's own army: what it will mean for its structure, resources and procedures.

This movement from the specific to the general and back again is precisely what the sociologist of education Karl Maton describes in his theory of semantic waves. Without generalisation, a combat story risks remaining an isolated case – interesting to hear, but difficult to use. At the same time, an abstract principle without a concrete example does not show how and why it works. Transferring experience requires both levels and the ability to move between them.

4. Work with materials as close as possible to real work. For professional training, it is far more useful to work not with abstract textbook dialogues, but with the materials that soldiers actually deal with. These may be orders, reports, diagrams, presentations or other working documents – anonymised, of course, and prepared in compliance with all security and confidentiality requirements.

In this format, a person practises both the language and a specific professional action at the same time. For example, they learn the vocabulary for describing an operation while also explaining a real diagram to a foreign colleague, justifying a decision or answering follow-up questions about a document they will be working with.

5. Start training early. The ability to argue a case, explain complex decisions and respond to questions in English cannot be developed in a few lessons before an international exercise or an assignment abroad.

Terminology can be revised quickly. A specific talk can also be prepared in a relatively short time. The ability to handle unpredictable professional communication with ease, however, develops gradually, through regular practice. That is why language training should begin not when the date of an international event is already known, but much earlier – especially for positions where interaction with partners and the transfer of Ukrainian experience are a predictable part of the job.

The Khartiia experience: first, a shared professional language within

Khartiia illustrates another important principle well: interoperability with partners begins with shared approaches and a shared professional language within Ukrainian units.

The brigade from which the 2nd Corps of the National Guard of Ukraine "Khartiia" later grew was built from the outset around NATO planning procedures. Ihor Obolenskyi described this approach as follows: "Every procedure is described. Even the work of every officer and sergeant in the staff sections is spelled out. And it is constantly being improved."

In February 2026, Khartiia and the Third Army Corps signed a memorandum on joint training programmes. One of its areas was the standardisation of terminology. Obolenskyi explained its importance in terms of interoperability: when units use a shared professional language, have the same planning procedures and a comparable level of training, it is much easier for them to operate together.

This is especially important for international cooperation. If different Ukrainian units use different terms to describe the same actions, or put different meanings into the same term or concept, this ambiguity inevitably carries over into communication with partners. That is why, before translating professional terminology into English, it is important to agree on its meaning in Ukrainian.

Ukrainian commanders increasingly have to train other soldiers not only within the Defence Forces, but also in allied armies. This adds another requirement to the ability to analyse their own decisions and pass on knowledge: being able to do so in professional English.

What already works and what should be scaled up

Ukraine does not have to build a system for passing on military experience to partners from scratch. Some of the necessary mechanisms are already working.

JATEC systematises the lessons of the Russia-Ukraine war and helps integrate them into NATO training, planning and doctrine. Joint exercises such as REPMUS make it possible to test Ukrainian experience in interaction with the military personnel and technologies of other countries. A separate area is the exchange of data and digital solutions, including through DELTA. In parallel, bilateral channels with partners are operating, from training missions to capability coalitions. No less important is direct exchange between military personnel, when Ukrainian specialists train partners on the basis of their own combat experience. In other words, the channels through which Ukrainian knowledge can reach allies already exist. The next question is how systematically we are preparing the people who are to pass this knowledge on.

Institutions, exercises, data and direct professional exchange are already in place. But there remains one more critically important channel for passing on experience: people. At the end of 2025, the commander of JATEC said that the Centre was staffed at just over 70% of its planned strength and was awaiting the arrival of the remaining personnel from Ukraine. This is a telling example: the effectiveness of even a well-built institution ultimately depends on the specialists who can bring Ukrainian experience to it, structure that experience and pass it on to partners.

However, language training still often exists separately from the lessons-learned system, and intensive work on English begins only just before specific exercises, an assignment abroad or an international event. In my view, it is precisely this link that needs to be strengthened systematically.

1. Build English into the very cycle of working with combat experience

If a particular lesson is intended to be passed on to partners, it should be structured from the very beginning so that it is understandable outside the Ukrainian context.

For this, the same "anatomy of experience" that I described above can be used: solution, conditions, logic, result, limits of application and period of relevance. Such material should be prepared in both Ukrainian and English from the outset, with the involvement of a person who has first-hand knowledge of this experience and a language specialist.

In this way, we prepare knowledge for transfer from the very start.

2. Create a glossary of frontline realities jointly with allies

This is not about yet another dictionary of military terminology. Far more useful would be a dictionary of contexts that explains what "posadka", "nul", "evak" and other concepts mean in Ukrainian military reality, and how to convey their meaning to a partner.

Such work could build on the standardisation of terminology that is already under way within the Defence Forces. The next step, however, should be to explain these concepts to people who do not have Ukrainian combat experience.

3. Develop communication profiles for different positions and roles

The list of positions that require English should be supplemented with a description of the specific tasks a soldier must be able to perform in that language.

For some, these are briefings and joint planning; for others, training foreign military personnel, working with documentation or medical interaction. Both the content of training and the way its results are assessed should depend on this.

4. Prepare those who hold the experience primarily as mediators

Military interpreters remain an indispensable part of international cooperation. However, an interpreter cannot always convey the full professional context behind a decision.

The question "Why did you do it that way?" is best answered by a person who took part in the decision or who understands well the logic behind it. That is why it is important to give those who hold the experience sufficient language tools of their own, so that they can not only state a fact, but also explain its causes, limitations and possibilities for adaptation.

5. Start early and measure not only the level of English, but also the outcome of knowledge transfer

If a role involves regular interaction with partners, language training should begin long before a specific assignment abroad or exercise.

It is equally important to check whether the knowledge itself has actually been passed on. Here, the back-brief principle, already familiar to the military, can be used: ask the partner to explain in their own words the lesson they have received, its key conditions and how it could be applied in their unit.

The next level of verification is to see whether anything has changed in the partner's training, procedures or practice after receiving this experience. This brings us back to the principle we started with: a lesson is learned not when it has been presented well, but when it has led to changes in practice.

Ukraine is paying the highest price for the experience of this war – human lives. That is why it is important that the knowledge gained on the battlefield is not lost on its way to those who can use it.

The transfer of experience is complete not when a Ukrainian soldier has delivered a briefing or a training session, but when the knowledge received has managed to change a partner's training and practice. Only then does Ukrainian combat experience become part of shared security.

We have moved past the cargo-cult stage. Ukrainian military personnel need English for three things.

1. To turn experience into knowledge ourselves. Not to hand partners the ore from which they will smelt their own "iPhones", but to travel the path ourselves from a combat episode to a principle, a recommendation and a training programme – and to be co-authors of the doctrines being written on the basis of our experience.

2. To be an ally with agency, on an equal footing. In a world where even superpowers ask for help, an alliance is not a gesture of goodwill but a condition for survival.

3. To teach our allies. If you have experience that others lack, and you are already good enough to speak with them as equals, teaching is not only an opportunity but also a responsibility. Today, the security not only of Ukraine, but also of Europe and the world, depends on how accurately we pass on our experience.

Once, we learned English to be accepted. Today, we learn it to be understood, to be reckoned with and, above all, to be learned from. That is the answer to the question "what for?"