Annual Report

Among the huge number of people who fled Ukraine to escape the war were, of course, deaf people. So it seemed natural to help a team of tutors from the organization Silent World with a fundraiser to pay for sign language lessons for Ukrainian deaf people who now live in the Czech Republic.

When we set up the Endowment Fund, we also talked a lot about what it should do besides buying weapons for the Ukrainian army. We said that we would bring together organizations supporting Ukraine and be a simple and clear voice defending the interests of the one who is smaller and weaker up against a strong and brutal aggressor. That is why we were upset by the way the Czech Olympic Committee handled the possible participation of athletes from the Russian Federation and Belarus in the Olympics in Paris. The degree to which they avoided any responsibility for what was happening was unbelievable. No public disapproval of the International Olympic Committee's actions, no threat of a boycott. We put together a petition demanding clear action. (In the end, over 20,000 people signed the petition and we delivered it in person. The Czech Olympic Committee created a special advisory group that... Well, it doesn't matter what they came up with. The Olympics will be held with the participation of athletes from Russia and Belarus. Neutral flag, no anthem. There's not many of them, but they're there. Shame.)

It was clear from the start that the new weapon we would be raising money for would be called Premysl. It's an RM-70 rocket launcher and one volley can “plow” three hectares. And the Premysl belongs in the field. In the first two days, 4,765 donors sent us 362916 euros. A great start. It's going to take a while to raise the target about 2 million euros, but we'll get there...

By the way, do you know what is buchanka? The UAZ Van 2206 is a modernised off-road vehicle of classic design. Classic design means that the same model has been produced in Russia since 1965. And why am I writing this? Because one day we received an email in which the owner of a brand new buchanka informed us that he was so angry with Russia that he decided to scrap this "little car" from his collection and send it to Ukraine to serve in the army there. We took possession of the buchanka, drove it around, went for spinal rehabilitation and sent it to the war.

To hold an outdoor concert in front of the Ukrainian Embassy in February to commemorate the anniversary of the start of the war was certainly a bit of a crazy idea. The concert began with a march past the Russian embassy. Ten thousand people, ambassadors from many countries, motorcyclists. And a children's choir, a great Ukrainian band, David Koller and KollerBand. And also a lot of guests. And the newly elected president, who was quietly tapping his feet under the stage. And it was freezing cold. "Next time we'll do it inside. That is, if there's still a war next year," we said, hoping there wouldn't be. Anyway, even smarter people than us are wrong.

The theory was that our Endowment Fund would finance its operations through the sale of T-shirts. We reassured each other that this must work, but in the back of our minds we were a little afraid (I certainly was). But it worked. People were visiting the e-shop, buying t-shirts, which are not cheap, and we were getting our first money to operate. The t-shirts kept us afloat. I wore one of them, over my wife's protests, to the presidential inauguration. I hid it under my white shirt and tie, but I'm sure it was the only "Fuck you" T-shirt ever in the Spanish Hall of Prague Castle.

We started calling the Premysl fundraiser "Spring Job." I don't remember who came up with it, but it went very well. At the end of the month we had 1,337,450 euros in the account of this collection, which was money that could have bought not only the RM-70 rocket launcher, but also 191 rockets for it. In fact, we had promised to send 365 pieces of ammunition to the Ukrainians for the Premysl. We also finally showed the rocket launcher to the journalists. However, I remember something completely different from that visit to the weapons terminal in Polička. The complex is enormous. For security reasons, the individual arms factories are hundreds of metres apart, so it is logical that you move around inside by bus. I was sitting in the front. When the bus suddenly stopped at a stop sign in the woods, I could clearly see the warning sign that hung below. There was a tank painted on it. Until the tank came from the right, it all seemed like a joke. Welcome to the world of weapons manufacturing.

In March, the word "chcimir" first appeared in the public domain. By the way, if my memory serves me correctly, it was first used by political scientist Michal Romancov at our concert in front of the Ukrainian embassy. The word became the subject of another T-shirt. We put a message on it that is still valid today: "Chcimirs of the whole world, fuck you."

When you buy weapons, you learn patience. The vast majority of them are "out of stock," so you wait for months for them to be produced, and when you finally have them, you wait more weeks for permits from various secret services and authorities. You watch TV in the evening, see how the Ukrainian army is getting beaten, and wait for some stamp! With Viktor, it went incredibly fast. We closed the collection on the penultimate day of December, and by mid-April, all fifteen off-road Toyotas equipped with machine guns were heading to the front. Later, we will hear more about the Viktors; they will appear in several reports on world television, and footage of their convoy will circulate on social media.

You know those situations where everything works in theory, but practice shows you that it doesn't? We do. We launched the "Let's Engage Ukraine" project to help the Ukrainian energy sector in particular. It seemed logical to us that boilers and generators should be bought and installed in the summer so that everything works in the winter. In agreement with Roksolana (territorial expert for Ukraine from the Ministry of Industry and Trade of the Czech Republic) we announced three collections... and nothing. Well, not much. Explaining to people that Ukraine needs help with boilers for the winter proved to be a big communication barrier in the summer. But there are two sides to every coin. And the other, the fact that we have a "non-weapons" sign, will come in handy in a few weeks.

Let me now take a brief excursion into advertising and marketing. If you ever do a gun fundraiser in the future, make sure you don't do it on a domain that contains the word guns, or you'll have a lot of trouble running ads anywhere. For example, www.weaponstoukraine.com And definitely don't use a domain with the name of a world statesman, because then you simply won't run the ad, as it would be political, and you need special verification for that. So never advertise something like www.darekproputina.cz. Unless you have a project that has neither the word "guns" nor the word "Putin" in it. Welcome to the family, www.zapojmeukrajinu.cz, your time will come.

For a long time we were wondering how to penetrate Slovakia. "The Slovaks will never stock up on weapons, they are such doves," we used to mutter on our regular Tuesday video calls. (We'll see how amazingly wrong we were next year when the Slovaks, angry at the Fico government, will send 4 million euros to buy ammunition in a few days, but more on that in the next annual report.) So the decision was made that we in Slovakia will not collect money for weapons, but for the Božena 5 demining machine. We opened the collection with our partners Peace for Ukraine on 8 May. We knew that someone in Slovakia was planning a similar collection. It was logical not to split forces and join forces. We went to those people, but the result was that they refused any connection with us and started their tank collection a few days before us with a very similar name. I had a few verbal battles with them on social media, but in the end I had to promise our partners in Slovakia that I would stop. And it was a good thing.

May 14th was the day when we managed to finish raising 2 million euros for the Přemysl missile launcher and 365 missiles. A day later, another collection, called Operation Robert the Devil, was launched. Sound familiar? It's not only the name of the opera, but also a code name for the total destruction of the Mysterious Castle in the Carpathians from Brdeček's brilliant film. Remember Rudolf Hrušínský, who played the mad scientist Orfanik? "Carbonise the dehydrates!" This was a collection for ten tons of "chocolate", as plastic explosives are called in weapons slang. Ten tons is a lot. What was remarkable about this collection was that the chocolate was destined for the KORD special police unit that normally operates on the front lines. I won't explain who KORD is here, believe me you don't want to meet these guys in your dreams. What they did with those ten tons, I really don't know. I don't need to know everything, do I? It makes me sleep better. But when you think about the shenanigans that Russia is doing in Ukraine, it quickly brings you back to reality.

When we learned that the Russians had completely destroyed the fire and rescue station in Kherson, we decided to help. And because we had "Engage Ukraine," it was easy. With the money from this fundraiser we bought several ambulances and medical equipment, which actually planned our trip to Ukraine.

A high-ranking state official who is very involved in military aid to Ukraine once told me that our actions are writing real history. I don't know. When I received a call from the Military Historical Institute asking me to bring them our T-shirts, game, and mat with Putin and the inscription "Leave the dirt outside," I was momentarily surprised. They archived it there and said that once the war is over, they would hold an exhibition on how Czechs supported the Ukrainian army in various ways. I can't wait for that day to come.

To this day, it is unclear whether the Russians intentionally blew up the Kakhovka dam or if it was just typical Russian incompetence. Once again, "Engage Ukraine" came into play; the next collection was aimed at pumps and dryers. Within a few days, we had almost 40000 euros, which we immediately used to purchase and send a truck to Ukraine. It was quite useful there.

Taylor has passed away. I didn't know him personally, but when YouTuber Bratříček interviewed him during our Operation Hope before Christmas 2022, I was speechless. Taylor might have been a bit eccentric; perhaps he really shouldn't have returned to the place where he was hit by Russian artillery. It's hard to say. I believe he was the first Czech to die in this damn war. It was a peculiar funeral. Many people, many uniforms, many closely cropped heads revealing their professions. A great speech by the military chaplain from the 43rd Airborne Regiment in Chrudim—optimistic, energetic, full of hope. A touching memory from his girlfriend Karolína about their meeting at the front. Karolína is still in Ukraine; I think she is now piloting FPV drones and "spreading joy" into Russian trenches.

I disagree with former President Miloš Zeman on everything except his statement that "in every nation, there are 15 to 20% fools." And it is precisely such children of these Czech fools who targeted their Ukrainian classmate and wanted to explain to her that Russia is the best thing in the world and that Ukraine is the worst. They filmed the whole thing on their phones. However, the girl stood her ground; she calmly listened to them and ended the debate with the sentence, "Russia is shit." Later, the parents of the "little fools" apologized to her, and she was received by the president. We put the phrase "Russia is shit" on a T-shirt. Our fantastic designer Dodo created another memorable graphic piece that still finances our Foundation's operations today.

Sometimes someone asks me how weapons are actually purchased. Everyone is surprised when I truthfully respond that it's just like buying ice cream or cat litter. You simply go to a store, choose what they have, and pay for it. The difference lies in finding that store, which we have become quite adept at. And how are weapons paid for? Usually by bank transfer. When we paid for Přemysl, the bank informed us that the amount was too large for an electronic transfer, so Honza had to go to a branch. Honza is a colleague who primarily ensures that we don't all end up behind bars when Babiš is back in power. He stood at the counter and announced that he wanted to transfer fifty million crowns; the clerk silently handed him a transfer slip and pointed to a box in the corner of the room. Honza filled out the slip, checked it twice, and dropped it into that box. That's how arms deals are done.

Over the two years that I've been managing the marketing of Weapons to Ukraine and involved in the selection and purchase of all those weapons, I'm constantly learning not to talk unnecessarily. To this day I find it better not to know things, because what you don't know you can't talk about. Not talking about going to Ukraine was quite difficult. So at home I said it. Just as my wife remarked that I wasn't taking her anywhere. I retorted that the furthest I'd been in the past two years was Jablonec, but now we were going with the guys from Team4Ukraine to the front, so she could come with us. And that we can think of the whole thing as a honeymoon, which we weren't on because of the war. Irena said yes, and she became very interested in whether bulletproof vests are made in colors other than green. They do. Blue is good.

During the trip, I kept a little diary. Here it is:

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Diary from Ukraine, part I: We're off.

The last few hours before departure look like a regular family vacation. You just don't buy creams and swimsuits; instead, you're packing food and water supplies, military clothing, and ballistic gear. Together with T4Ukraine, we are bringing several ambulances and ten tons of humanitarian aid. The journey has been prepared for months; now the preparations are peaking. Signing contracts for the last donated ambulance, praying that the purchased medical supplies arrive at the base on time. Picking up some signed papers, attending several meetings for further collections, loading my wife Irena and my friend Zdeněk, and off to the base.Only there do I realize how big this expedition is. Most of the people from T4U we don't know, but it quickly becomes clear that it won't matter at all. We check in journalists; a medic explains how to use a tourniquet to stop massive bleeding from a severed limb; we load leftover equipment and aid. At 6:00 PM, Sully's first command briefing takes place. I'm the only one who arrives late. Our vehicle's call sign is Kodiak. I'll remember that for a long time. Right at the start, I overtake the whole convoy. I have a plan: we'll wait for it and film it nicely. After fifteen minutes of waiting, we find out that the ambulances are already somewhere on the highway while we're somewhere in a field in Central Bohemia. Well, this is how it starts.We set off. We catch up with the convoy at a gas station about ten minutes later. One of the ambulances broke down—the one that looked fine during servicing. There's nothing to be done; it'll go next time; we transfer boxes and packages. The sun sets over the Czech Republic. We have 800 kilometers to the Ukrainian border.

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Diary from Ukraine, Volume II: Anger and emotion.

It's morning and we are in Ukraine. But the ambulances are still stuck in Poland. In a pile of various export permits, there's some document missing that wasn't needed just a month ago. We wait. I'm bored so I check how much my Czech operator charges for data transfer here. It completely heated me up so much that in a car with air conditioning off it's suddenly ten degrees hotter than outside—45 degrees Celsius.In a few minutes, I get a local SIM card; it has 12 GB of data on it which will last me throughout the trip. It cost 80 crowns. The ambulances started sorting out missing permits and are returning to some depot before the border. We set off for Vinnytsia. Our cars are loaded with aid for an orphanage. We'll unload it and wait for the ambulances; it's just 450 kilometers away.We arrive in the evening at our destination—a home where war orphans also live; T4U has been taking care of it for a long time. We unload heaps of clothing, hygiene products, washing machines, dryers, toys, as well as a trampoline and a game console.The home has an enormous uncut garden. Zdeněk asks why there’s so much grass here; their farming is barely sustainable—they don't even have a scythe or money for gasoline for a mower. We don’t have a scythe but Zdeněk reaches into his wallet and they already have money for gasoline.We’ve unloaded everything now; I fall asleep sitting in the car—I haven’t slept for a day and a half. A few hours later my wife Irena wakes me up: The ambulances are in Ukraine! Hooray! I grab my sleeping bag and find an enormous children's playpen under a roof in the garden of the home where we can sleep for five hours.Although it's interrupted by horrible alerts from a special app saying that the region we're in may be targeted by missile attacks, after some cursing at Putin and those who say there’s no war here, we fall asleep quickly.

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Diary from Ukraine, Volume III: To the front!

It's morning again; in Vinnytsia our whole convoy splits up—two ambulances head towards Kherson and Mykolaiv carrying lots of necessary equipment for military units T4U works with—such as drones but mainly medical supplies.The ambulances will stay there to transport injured soldiers to field hospitals while we continue to Kremenchuk. After seven hours we’re there; more cargo is unloaded destined for a local hospital which also takes care of injured soldiers.We get lunch—I’m not entirely sure what it was but both courses had dill in them and they were great! We're heading to Dnipro now; two hours later we're there—Dnipro takes my breath away; this river is enormous.The entire city seems to adapt its architecture to the river; we easily find where we need to leave ambulances for local city administration as replacements for those destroyed by Russian missile attacks at the end of May.The officials from city hall are happy—and so are we! Now we split up again—a small group will go to the front near Kharkiv while others will wait in Poltava.My wife and friend Pažout spent the last hundred kilometers repacking my grab bag (an emergency bag) in our van so actually I don’t know where anything is anymore; Pažout even removed my hair gel!I take high sturdy boots with me into a van nicknamed Vidma (which means "witch"), loading my helmet, bulletproof vest, and backpack into it—I get in but immediately get back out handing over keys of Kodiak to Irena who will drive it to Poltava.It's only 200 kilometers to Kharkiv—but along by far the worst highway that exists in this universe! On our way we learn that our president is currently speaking about "Gift for Putin" at a joint press conference with President Zelenskyy.We’re glad that Ukrainian President has personally experienced Czech irony—Zdeněk and I replay that unique moment several times.Kharkiv is engulfed in total darkness—the second largest city in Ukraine is relatively close to the front line but even there you can find hotels—albeit one with an elevator whose doors try to kill you—but it's a safe concrete building with showers.A few hours later we set off towards the front lines.

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Diary from Ukraine, Volume IV: At Headquarters.

Kharkiv is an enormous city—it used to be Ukraine's capital after all—but during daytime it doesn't look like there's fighting just dozens of kilometers away.We get into Vidma and drive on—about an hour later you start feeling war around you—we turn off our phones and put them into special bags which perfectly shield them from signals.There are destroyed bridges occasionally some collapsed buildings—on most vast fields nothing is sown—the local farmers fear mines which abound around here.“Whenever you need to pee make sure you stay on asphalt at all costs,” warns Sully from Team4Ukraine... We're heading towards 41st Independent Mechanized Brigade whose commander Oleg arrives at our meeting point in an old gray off-road vehicle.“We're not going to stand on the road,” he smiles “let’s go have coffee.” We drive back about a kilometer park our cars under trees and head towards a ruined motor inn.Only now do we see soldiers hidden around us buried satellite antennas masked solar panels—we go down into a basement—that's where brigade headquarters is located.Officers turn off plasma screens operational maps on tables are covered with blankets “Welcome to HQ” Oleg laughs—we negotiate for about an hour while phones ring on tables soldiers whispering commands into them.We agree—we're outside—we hand over an ambulance medical supplies drones and some other items—a photo as a keepsake—“You should leave,” Oleg says “Russian drones have been flying over here since yesterday one was quite close just now.”“As soon as you disappear we'll disappear too—we’ll pack up here again headquarters will be somewhere else again for several days.” We say goodbye—everyone meets again in Poltava—it’s 400 kilometers to Kyiv—we’re all looking forward to being there.Later "Dnipro group" will tell us what they experienced—these following sentences were written by Irena—the woman who has never been in a country at war:

“What I see upon entering hotel lobby in Dnipro are doors with sign ‘shelter.’ A strange feeling—I don’t know this from hotels in Czechia—we throw our bags into rooms go buy something to eat and some alcohol at supermarket—I know these stores intimately—I manage one like this back home—but here it's new feeling.”Suddenly all shoppers’ pockets and bags emit siren sounds which terrified me during first night spent in Vinnytsia—missiles are airborne—the guys from T4U explain that goose-stepping along walls can save lives when they come down—the wall will collapse on you possibly allowing you survive under it.I never thought I'd ever test this advice—we're at hotel—in lobby bar eating drinking what we've brought—conversation flows—we feel good time flies by—in morning I wake up check app—the alert ended just before dawn while I was sweetly sleeping—it lasted five-and-a-half hours—the sky is clear—we have breakfast—it could sound any moment again—I understand why locals live normal lives during this fucked-up war—we move on Team A is on their way back from front ahead lies Kyiv traffic river bridges guys plead through windows asking drivers let us through.”After sixty minutes we're where we were an hour ago—a wonderful honeymoon trip! We're back at hotel—not widowed!

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Diary from Ukraine, Volume V: Hello, Ukraine.

We're leaving Kiev. We're leaving Kiev for Kiev. Sully describes how a few dozen soldiers defended the road to Kiev from the Russians. There's a lot of building and repairing going on here, but you'll find traces of the war very often. Next stop is Lviv. A few days ago, a rocket fell here. It killed eight people. The city lives a normal summer tourist regime. The rumours that the military pub there is absolutely fantastic were not true. In the souvenir shop, I bought a plush tank and a copy of General Zaluzhny's driver's license. This is truly the land of unlimited possibilities. I can't wait to come back.

I will admit without torture that I speak virtually no English. I mean, I do, but they only understand me in the Bronx, which I've experienced firsthand. I learned Russian in high school, but the presence of a Ukrainian family at our cottage has made me quite talkative. We communicated in a strange language that was a brutal combination of Czech, Russian and English. Linguists would have freaked out, but we understood each other perfectly. When I handed over the ambulances in Dnipro, I apologized to the clerk there for speaking Russian. She looked at me and said, "Don't apologize, I speak Russian sometimes too, it's important to know the language of our murderers."

As much as we can, we try to support other organizations that help Ukraine, and we organize "small" quick collections with a specific goal. We were very happy to get Oleg a mobile workshop. Oleg used to work in Ukraine for Jablotron, and when the war started, he called Dalibor to say he was taking a vacation and went to drive out the Russians. Dalibor Dedek poured many millions of his own money into the unit he serves in. Oleg is his personal affair. And ours.

In mid-July, we closed a collection for ten tons of "chocolate". And we opened a new one called Two Dose. Ukrainian special forces asked us for high-capacity magazines for rapid-fire weapons. What's that? A normal magazine holds 30 rounds, then you have to replace it. A high-capacity magazine can hold 60 rounds. Opinions vary among shooters about this kind of magazines, but the moment Ukrainian military intelligence asks you for them, you don't discuss it much.

What we do is called crowdfunding. The essence of it is that you show donors where their money has ended up. Which, in the case of guns, isn't exactly easy. There are ways to find out where each particular weapon is, but such processes are quite lengthy and put an unnecessary burden on the Ukrainian administration. That is why we are delighted when some of the 'stuff' we have sent there turns up. In the middle of the summer, footage of victors appeared on social media. Three toyotas with mounted machine guns stood in a meadow near a forest and fired at Russian drones. It felt good.

Have you ever wondered what it would have looked like if Czechoslovakia had militarily resisted the invasion of the Warsaw Pact countries in 1968? Is that a crazy idea? That it would have ended in an absolute massacre? We tried to simulate the August 1968 Czechoslovak TV broadcast in case we resisted. We built an approximate replica of a TV studio at the time, put a female anchor in it who looked like she was from the 1960s, and had her read this text:

"To all the people of the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic!

Yesterday, on August 20, 1968, at around 11 p.m., the armies of the five Warsaw Pact countries crossed the borders of our Republic.

We will not give in to this aggression, which is a brutal denial of the basic norms of international law. In the first hours, the occupying troops encountered massive resistance from the domestic population and from pro-democracy-minded army units, which are busily defending our territory against the occupiers. Their struggle has already brought the first casualties, but also immeasurable determination and displays of heroism.

We therefore call on all citizens with combat experience, soldiers and reserve officers, as well as supporters and members of the renewed Sokol and Scout movement and other organisations to come to their aid. Support our military and our fighting civilians! A new General Staff is currently being formed to coordinate the defense in the coming hours.

We are facing unprecedented odds, but let us not succumb to fear and let us fight. Do not be manipulated by the collaborators and minions of the occupiers, surrender is not an option.

Our efforts will not leave the world indifferent, it will come to our aid. Truth and victory are on our side.

We are with you, be with us."

As the presenter was coming to the end of the text, the camera slowly started to rise and it suddenly became clear to the viewer that he was not in a TV studio, but in a small square where dozens of people were standing around the presenter with Ukrainian and Czech flags in their hands, silently looking into the camera...

I was so close to the subject and the filming itself that I cannot praise the result. But what I can praise is the fact that we managed to get this spot on Czech Television. On August 21, it appeared a total of eight times across all ČT channels. And that counts.

In August, we also successfully closed a collection for high-capacity magazines and launched a campaign to support the 41st Independent Mechanised Brigade. When we visited them, they complained about a critical shortage of anti-tank small arms. And because the Moravian company Zeveta produces very high quality RPGs and was willing to let us have some, the collection was born. It was given a rather stupid name - 1000 RPGs against the CCCP. Two incomprehensible abbreviations in one name really isn't the best idea.

August 21 was also an important day because Dalibor Dědek, the founder of our Foundation for Ukraine, chose it as his wedding day. I've never been to the wedding of a billionaire, but Dalibor is not just any billionaire... It was full of cousins, aunts and friends. They ate sirloin steak and drank mostly beer. And my wife's BMW was probably the most expensive car parked in front of the Presidential Chalet in Jizerky that day.

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Raising EUR 650 000 in Slovakia for the Božena 5 demining machine was an idea that we discussed for a long time. We did not really believe in it, we simply did not think that the Slovaks would be willing to contribute to any weapons. That is why we opted for a demining machine. But in September 2023, our eastern neighbours had Ludovit Odor as Prime Minister, and this official government supported Ukraine in its fight against the Russians. Just before the election, we raised money for Bozena. Taiwan helped us a lot; its embassy announced that it would double any donation to our fundraising, specifically up to a total of 100,000 euros.

Fico won the elections. It was clear to both us and our Slovak friends that their country was changing course. Now I realize that I couldn't have imagined how rapid those changes would be and what they would lead to in Slovakia. And I never would have thought that just a few months after these elections, we would be part of the fastest fundraising campaign in Slovakia's history. But more on that next year.

First, you create fear (poverty, war, Ukraine). Then you label the enemy (liberals, media, NATO), and finally, you serve up the solution (order, peace, Putin). All of this is done with the help of lies and half-truths. It works excellently. We are also slowly walking down this path, like a pig to slaughter. What am I writing about here? About disinformation. That's why Mikeš was created—an information superhero; that's why we launched a campaign on Donio against disinformation. We knew we would find many people here who share the same goal: not to tell people what to think but to show them how easily truths can be twisted into half-truths and half-truths into lies today. We have raised almost 80 000 euros for this. You will see what we spent it on soon enough.

"We are waiting for you at two o'clock in the afternoon in our villa in Prague 6," was Honz's text message. "But I know when, but I still don't know where," I replied for about the fifth time. Getting a commemorative medal from one of the Czech secret services is quite an experience, especially when the service finally tells you the address where you should receive it. Dalibor and I found it quite easily. And I can assure you that the house looked just like all the others in the area - I never would have guessed that this was the house. We got coffee, a diploma and a medal. But seriously, talking to the head of this organization was a great experience. I still think a lot about what he said to us, "We all made the mistake of not believing for years that Putin would actually do what he talks about between the lines," and he was referring to the whole Western world. Coincidentally, a few days after this meeting, Putin gave a big speech in Sochi, where, among other things, he said: 'We are faced with the task of building a new world. Russia has overcome the crisis that arose after the collapse of the Soviet Union and hoped to join a 'just world order', but this readiness to cooperate has been taken by some as a signal that Russia is ready to submit to foreign national interests... All these years we have not only warned that such an approach leads to a dead end, but also increases the threat of military conflict. But no one wanted to listen to us."

Is there anything else unclear about Vladimir Putin's future plans?

By the way, I'm not exactly the medal type. I take it that any such award is primarily for donors, without whom we could do without. That's why, as the General was leaving, I asked, "Do you mind if I put this on social media?" "It won't matter," the good man replied, "but it will look like you're snitching a little."

By the way, I'm totally the glorifying type. And my favorite thing to do is celebrate birthdays, except mine, of course. And in October 2024, our designer Dodo Dobrik and I were invited to one together. The birthday girl had a round birthday and she wanted any gifts to be money that would go into the Weapons to Ukraine account. That's all I'll say - what happened at Jana Chernochova's birthday party will stay at Jana Chernochova's birthday party.

At the beginning of November, we knew a few things. That our partners from Ukraine wanted a Black Hawk UH-60 helicopter. That such a helicopter is available for purchase in the Czech Republic and costs just over 100 million. And we also knew that it wouldn't be possible to land it at Vítkov in front of the statue of Jan Žižka because we would likely knock down not only the eternal memorial flames but also several trees in the vicinity.

We suspected that this campaign would provoke controversy. That there would be people claiming it was expensive, and they might be right. But how can you determine the correct price for such a machine when no other is for sale in Europe? Yes, you can buy a similar machine at an auction in South Africa for “only” just under two million dollars, but what do you do with it? How do you get it to the Czech Republic, and who will “get it flying”? What really surprised us was the number of people claiming that Ukraine does not need a Black Hawk. Dozens of armament experts advised us on social media about what the Ukrainian military intelligence needs more than Čestmír. The campaign stalled halfway. It is fully in the hands of our Ukrainian partners what will happen next. All options are open. We have been discussing this with them since early summer. But back to the beginning of November.

We had been organizing the fundraising for the purchase of the Black Hawk helicopter since early summer. Since September, we had been figuring out how and where to land it and show that it exists and can fly. Landing on November 17 seemed like a natural choice. To land this American machine in Prague on this significant date was a unique vision. What do you need for such a landing? Not to be in the no-fly zone above Prague Castle (which ends at the edge of Letná), permission from the landowner, and a stack of stamps. You arrange everything in advance, and then a week before landing, one important institution throws a wrench into the works. So you run around explaining things again. And then good people who know Gift for Putin and support all the things you do help you out.

And on November 17 at 11:40 AM, the Black Hawk lands on Letná Plain. Great! Then you receive news that Ukraine has received high-capacity magazines that you purchased with money from a special fundraising campaign. And that Gift for Putin has won the Crystal Lupa award for Project of the Year for the second time. And because you have some leftover money from selling T-shirts, you buy three SUVs for the brigade where Oleg is fighting.

You realise that everything you're doing is to make this brand finally cease to exist. That the better you do this "work", the faster the moment will come when there will be peace in Ukraine and collections like ours will no longer be needed. In November 2023, I thought that moment was approaching, now, in September 2024, I feel it is rather receding.

We're putting a new t-shirt on the e-shop. It features a message that Petr Pavel wrote on a rocket launcher in Ukraine in the spring. It's in English, and in Czech it can be translated as "Russians, go home before it's too late." We want to use the proceeds from the sale of this T-shirt to purchase a manual car, which will be donated to the Rehabilitation Institute in Lviv. They desperately need a fully manual car for their driving school, which will be used to teach former soldiers who lost their lower limbs in combat how to drive. We hope that the T-shirt might sell well, as it will soon be Christmas...

A little prematurely, we receive a gift for Christmas. The campaign for 1,000 hand-held anti-tank missiles ends in mid-December, precisely when donations from large companies start coming in, which take advantage of the opportunity to deduct such contributions from taxes.

I have an invitation to Kramar's villa. As usual, we're leaving late because my wife... we're just leaving late. "Can you please take it on the rails?" I ask the taxi driver. "You know, my husband is supposed to get something from the Prime Minister," Irena explains. Driver: "I've heard a lot of interesting justifications for driving fast, but not this one yet." We are on the tracks and arrive at the villa above Prague on time. I've been there a few times as a journalist, so I know that all those photos of important statesmen are taken on the small first floor balcony, which offers a really cool view of Prague. The Kramář awards are presented, followed by the social part of the evening - snacks, wine and casual conversation. I always feel like starting a conversation at such moments with the sentence, "The boy downstairs was mixing my mortar so thin yesterday that it kept falling back onto my spoon."

We're going for a smoke. There's a balcony around here somewhere. The ladies of the Prime Minister's Protocol are eager to unlock it. The view from there is truly magnificent. Soon a waiter appears with a crystal ashtray. "Nobody has smoked here for a long, long time," he smiles and places the ashtray on the railing.

Christmas Eve is dozens of hours away, and we meet early in the morning at the Mánes in Prague. Ten hours of live coverage and 22 different guests are ahead of us. It's the start of Operation Hope - a day-long social media broadcast during which we raise money to buy IFAKs - special military first aid kits that include a tourniquet that can save lives. Světlana Witowská and Jindra Šídlo are hosting like clockwork, the guests take turns, the collection is growing... it's going great. Around noon, I place a large Kremlin-shaped candle on the table. "If we break two million crowns, shall we light the Kremlin?" I ask the moderators. The room from which we broadcast is very nice, the glass wall behind the presenters offers a view of the waterfront and the National Theatre. 

In the afternoon, the traffic outside the giant window gets very thick. Ambulances, police and civilian cars with beacons are making their way through the traffic. A report comes in that some nutter has shot a few hundred metres away, at the philosophy faculty. Many wounded, many dead. We cut Operation Hope short and finish around 6:00 p.m. We've raised well over two million, but none of us are in the mood for jokes. The Kremlin won't be burning that evening.

After that, it's just a few days of counting. 93,803 donors have sent us a total of 290,852,352 crowns (approximately €11,5 million). We sent a rocket launcher and 365 rockets for it, 1,000 PRG-75Ms, 10,000 MAG GORDS magazines, ten tons of plastic explosives, 2,000 IFAK medical kits, hundreds of drones, several ambulances and a number of cars, and a lot of other things to Ukraine.

We could only do this because you donate to us. We are extremely grateful to you. Thank you.

Income Statement‍