I have counted 34,943 Russian combatant deaths over the past 289 days since I began tracking. This number will increase, as I have not finished error-checking, and we typically undercount during the first pass through the data.
Below is a chart showing deaths since February 1st, which is when I arbitrarily started this table. That date corresponds to day 158 of counting. The blue line represents the actual death totals, while the red line is a six-day rolling average.
You can see that this year, the average daily deaths rose from around 110 in mid-February to about 127 in mid-March, then to roughly 180 in mid-April. It dropped to about 140 in mid-May and is now around 90. The minimum occurred in the first week of June, and since then, we have seen a slight upward trend.
These 34,943 deaths are only the ones we can see. They are confirmed through visual evidence such as photographs and videos posted publicly, mostly by Ukrainian brigades sharing footage of their combat operations. These videos are primarily used to raise money for fundraisers and are not official casualty reports. This number reflects a strict minimum. It does not include the crews of destroyed vehicles, the missing, or those who die from wounds after the footage ends. It is a count of what is visible, not what is complete.
To understand what is being missed, consider this:
A shell hits ten men. One dies instantly. Two more die within half an hour. Three could be saved with timely medical care, but that rarely happens now. Helicopter evacuations are no longer possible, and there are few safe routes out. Of the remaining four, three are immobilized and could survive with basic first aid and transport within five hours. But even that is usually not possible. They die too. The last two are walking wounded. They must make their way back to safety on their own, often walking five to ten kilometers under threat from drones. If they are lucky, they might be picked up by a vehicle.
This account comes from a firsthand testimony shared publicly on the Telegram channel “Transormator” (t.me/Transormator_T…). It provides valuable insight into the high mortality rates among wounded Russian soldiers.
This is what Russian assault units face every day. Out of every ten men hit, eight die and only two survive. For every one survivor, two wounded men die. This two to one ratio matches what Russian military medics have reported.
It is important to acknowledge the limitations of this information. These death ratios come from publicly available accounts, including firsthand testimonies such as the Telegram report referenced above. While the numbers seem consistent with past reports and expert assessments, they are necessarily incomplete and subject to variability. Most information about casualties remains private, and Russian brigades do not publicly share casualty information. The videos posted by Ukrainian brigades are combat footage, not systematic data releases. This means the counts and ratios we use are estimates based on partial and unevenly distributed data.
Now apply that to the 34,943 deaths I have confirmed.
Those are the men who died where they were filmed. But for every man who makes it to a hospital, two more die unseen, in the “gray zone” — areas that are out of reach for rescue but not necessarily out of reach of cameras. Whether their deaths are recorded or shared depends on the mood and circumstances of the Ukrainians filming. That means the true number of deaths is not 34,943 but closer to 81,222 if you account for the wounded who later die. That is a 133 percent increase over the visible count.
If we extend this rate over a full year, based on the current daily average of 121 deaths, we project the following:
Minimum confirmed deaths over 365 days: approximately 44,165
Adjusted total accounting for wounded who later die: 44,165 multiplied by 2.33 equals approximately 102,902
So when we say 34,943 Russians have died, we are really saying that at least that many died on camera. The real number is far higher. Most of them die out of sight, slowly and alone, in places where rescue is impossible.
Below is a chart showing deaths since February 1st, which is when I arbitrarily started this table. That date corresponds to day 158 of counting. The blue line represents the actual death totals, while the red line is a six-day rolling average.
You can see that this year, the average daily deaths rose from around 110 in mid-February to about 127 in mid-March, then to roughly 180 in mid-April. It dropped to about 140 in mid-May and is now around 90. The minimum occurred in the first week of June, and since then, we have seen a slight upward trend.
These 34,943 deaths are only the ones we can see. They are confirmed through visual evidence such as photographs and videos posted publicly, mostly by Ukrainian brigades sharing footage of their combat operations. These videos are primarily used to raise money for fundraisers and are not official casualty reports. This number reflects a strict minimum. It does not include the crews of destroyed vehicles, the missing, or those who die from wounds after the footage ends. It is a count of what is visible, not what is complete.
To understand what is being missed, consider this:
A shell hits ten men. One dies instantly. Two more die within half an hour. Three could be saved with timely medical care, but that rarely happens now. Helicopter evacuations are no longer possible, and there are few safe routes out. Of the remaining four, three are immobilized and could survive with basic first aid and transport within five hours. But even that is usually not possible. They die too. The last two are walking wounded. They must make their way back to safety on their own, often walking five to ten kilometers under threat from drones. If they are lucky, they might be picked up by a vehicle.
This account comes from a firsthand testimony shared publicly on the Telegram channel “Transormator” (t.me/Transormator_T…). It provides valuable insight into the high mortality rates among wounded Russian soldiers.
This is what Russian assault units face every day. Out of every ten men hit, eight die and only two survive. For every one survivor, two wounded men die. This two to one ratio matches what Russian military medics have reported.
It is important to acknowledge the limitations of this information. These death ratios come from publicly available accounts, including firsthand testimonies such as the Telegram report referenced above. While the numbers seem consistent with past reports and expert assessments, they are necessarily incomplete and subject to variability. Most information about casualties remains private, and Russian brigades do not publicly share casualty information. The videos posted by Ukrainian brigades are combat footage, not systematic data releases. This means the counts and ratios we use are estimates based on partial and unevenly distributed data.
Now apply that to the 34,943 deaths I have confirmed.
Those are the men who died where they were filmed. But for every man who makes it to a hospital, two more die unseen, in the “gray zone” — areas that are out of reach for rescue but not necessarily out of reach of cameras. Whether their deaths are recorded or shared depends on the mood and circumstances of the Ukrainians filming. That means the true number of deaths is not 34,943 but closer to 81,222 if you account for the wounded who later die. That is a 133 percent increase over the visible count.
If we extend this rate over a full year, based on the current daily average of 121 deaths, we project the following:
Minimum confirmed deaths over 365 days: approximately 44,165
Adjusted total accounting for wounded who later die: 44,165 multiplied by 2.33 equals approximately 102,902
So when we say 34,943 Russians have died, we are really saying that at least that many died on camera. The real number is far higher. Most of them die out of sight, slowly and alone, in places where rescue is impossible.
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