I Try Not To Think of Afghanistan: Lithuanian Veterans of the Soviet War by AnnaReich. With an introduction by Paul Robinson. Afterword by Adrian Bonenberger. NIU Series in Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies. Ithaca: Northern Illinois University Press, 2024. 144 pp. $34.95. ISBN 978‐1‐5017‐7454‐6

When we think about Soviet Afghanistan veterans, we usually imagine them as Russians. This beautiful and evocative book is trying to change that perception by recovering some of the stories of the maybe five thousand Lithuanians who served in the Soviet "Limited Contingent" in this last undeclared war of the Soviet empire. Their stories remind us that, like the veterans of World War II, the afgantsy were a multinational group. Their situation today is framed by the fact that they shed blood for an empire which has since collapsed. Living in one of the fifteen post-imperial nations, Lithuanian veterans find it hard to get the recognition which they intuitively feel they deserve. The post-Soviet Lithuanian state did grant them the status of "victims of the Soviet occupation," but most of the organized veterans do not see themselves thus. They want recognition as veterans, not as victims of the state they fought for. Historically, their struggles are not unprecedented. Veterans often find themselves in states other than the ones they served. This does not necessarily prevent them from gaining political support. German veterans of both world wars found themselves in postwar states which had undergone dramatic political changes amounting to ruptures with the past. Still, the Weimar republic provided a remarkable benefits system for veterans of the German Empire, as did both postwar successor states of the Third Reich. Maybe closer to the post-Soviet situation are the histories of veterans of the First World War in the successor states of the Romanov empire. In Bolshevik Russia, soon to transform into the Soviet Union, they were quickly eclipsed by the state's concern for veterans of the Revolution and the Civil War. In Poland, by contrast, they managed to obtain a remarkable status, given that in their vast majority they had served in Austro-Hungarian, German, or Romanov armies rather than those of the new Polish republic. Lithuanian veterans' position is between such extremes. On the one hand, the post-imperial state does not take responsibility for the wars of the old regime, against which it defines itself. On the other hand, it does not leave the veterans of the Soviet Union's last imperial war completely out in the cold. Hence, the compromise of granting the status of "victim" rather than of "veteran." The veterans interviewed in this book—most of them Lithuanians rather than Russians living in Lithuania—are all connected to an organization that aims to change this status quo. Intriguingly, they are not pro-Russian, and their organization took a clear position on Ukraine's side from 2022. But they still want their experiences valued with dignity rather than victimhood. The slim volume is part coffee table book, part oral history, and part historical investigation. Anna Reich, an artist, photographer, and oral historian, interviewed twenty-two Lithuanian Afghanistan veterans in their homes. The book contains short summaries of these interviews together with Reich's evocative photographic portraits of these men, sometimes with their wives or children, often with paraphernalia brought back from Afghanistan. They are juxtaposed with photos from their personal collections, showing them as young men, often in settings in Afghanistan and in uniform. Reich is particularly interested in how these men dealt with war trauma after their return, in a society which provided no professional psychological support. Most of them stress the role of family in their reintegration, sometimes after some period of heavy drinking, sleeplessness, and nightmares. Eventually, all of these men found solace also in the company of other veterans when joining the Vilnius organization of Afghanistan veterans. Historians of veterans will find much to ponder in this book, but historians of the war itself will also find snippets of useful information, on topics such as training (and lack thereof), casualties, war crimes, hazing, and other mistreatment in the Soviet army. Hair-raisingly poor nutrition and insufficient water rations amounting to systematic dehydration of the conscripts were part of this experience, as were tensions between different national groups thrown together in combat units. The book is framed by an informative introduction by historian Paul Robinson, which orients the reader about the general contours of this history, and by a reflection by U.S. Afghanistan veteran turned author, Adrian Bonenberger. It is a moving tribute to a group of veterans who fell between the cracks left by the breakdown of the Soviet empire.