Braniewo: The forests surrounding Braniewo, a small town lying just six kilometres from the Russian border, are no longer just quiet landscapes. They have become the backdrop for a civic surge, as thousands of Polish men and women don military fatigues and learn combat basics. For many, the drills are less about military enthusiasm and more about ensuring security in an era of heightened anxiety over Moscow’s intentions.
Among the volunteers is Agnieszka Jedruszak, an office administrator and mother of a 13-year-old boy, who has swapped her office chair for a spade, digging trenches during training. “I’d do anything to keep my child safe. And I would definitely want to fight to protect him,” she said, reflecting the deeply personal motives driving many Poles into training camps.
Her determination captures a wider national mood: one of vigilance and preparation in the face of mounting tensions across Europe’s eastern flank.
Poland’s Defence Ministry reports that more than 20,000 citizens enrolled in voluntary military training in the first seven months of 2025 on track to reach 40,000 by the year’s end. This would more than double the number who volunteered in 2022, signalling how rapidly national sentiment has shifted since the war in Ukraine and subsequent drone incidents spilling into Polish airspace.
The rise reflects both patriotism and fear. The recent downing of Russian drones by Polish air defences the first time a NATO member has fired shots since the Ukraine conflict began has underlined the fragility of regional security and reinforced public determination to prepare.
The surge in civilian training dovetails with Poland’s wider defence overhaul. The government has lifted military spending to 4.7% of GDP, the highest proportion within NATO. Major initiatives include the building of the “East Shield”, a fortified defensive belt along the borders with Belarus and Russia’s Kaliningrad enclave. The project features anti-tank barriers, surveillance networks, and rapid-deployment points designed to deter incursions.
Additionally, military units are being redeployed eastwards, closer to potential flashpoints. Authorities are also encouraging local recruitment to strengthen the bond between communities and their defenders.
Voluntary training does not commit participants to full-time service. Instead, Poles have multiple pathways: joining the professional armed forces, serving in the Territorial Defence Forces (WOT), or becoming part of active and passive reserves. The WOT, in particular, allows citizens to serve part-time, usually close to home, providing both national security and disaster-response capabilities.
This flexibility has made participation accessible to parents, students, and professionals who want to balance civic responsibility with everyday life.
For many Poles, the mobilisation reflects a historical reflex as much as a present-day necessity. Memories of Soviet domination still cast long shadows, and the fear of renewed aggression is never far from mind. The civic enthusiasm to train reveals a society determined not to be caught unprepared again.
With 216,000 professional personnel, Poland now fields the third-largest army in NATO, after the United States and Turkey. Yet demographic decline and an ageing population present looming challenge. The current wave of civic volunteering is helping to offset these issues, but military planners warn it may not sustain long-term readiness without broader policy adjustments.
Prime Minister Donald Tusk’s government has also argued that Europe must shoulder more responsibility for its own defence, given uncertainties about external guarantees. Poland’s military reforms, therefore, aim to signal both self-reliance and deterrence.
Whether on training grounds or in policy debates, one message is clear: Poland is bracing for an uncertain future. For ordinary citizens like Jedruszak, the act of volunteering is more than symbolic it is a personal commitment to sovereignty and security.
“It’s always somewhere in the back of my mind: the thought that something could happen,” one trainee admitted. That thought, now widely shared, is reshaping Poland’s defence landscape one trench, one recruit, and one determined citizen at a time.