You won't find many events in D.C. that carry as much emotional weight and political tension as the Immortal Regiment march. Every May, a group of people gathers to walk from the White House toward the National World War II Memorial. They carry photos of their ancestors. These are the faces of soldiers, nurses, and partisans who fought in what the former Soviet Union calls the Great Patriotic War. It's not just a parade. It’s a massive, living memorial that has managed to survive despite the deep freeze in US-Russian relations.
I’ve watched these gatherings shift over the years. They used to be smaller, almost quiet affairs. Now, they're a flashpoint. People often misunderstand the intent. They see the St. George ribbons—those orange and black stripes—and think it’s purely a modern political statement. It isn’t. At its core, it’s about family. It’s about the fact that almost every family in the post-Soviet space lost someone between 1941 and 1945. When you see a grandmother holding a grainy, black-and-white photo of a young man in a uniform, you aren't looking at a government policy. You're looking at a woman who grew up without a father.
The unexpected scene at the National Mall
If you walked by the National Mall during the march, the first thing you’d notice is the singing. These aren't catchy pop tunes. They're somber, haunting melodies like "Katyusha" and "The Victory Day." The crowd usually moves in a dense column. You see a mix of generations. Kids wear miniature pilot caps. Middle-aged men wear their own old service medals. They all head toward the memorial to lay carnations—always red—at the pillars representing the Atlantic and Pacific theaters.
It feels different in Washington than it does in Moscow. In Russia, the Immortal Regiment is a state-sponsored behemoth with millions of participants. In D.C., it’s a grassroots effort organized by local communities and the Coordinating Council of Russian Compatriots. Because of the current geopolitical climate, the permit process is a headache. Security is tight. There's a palpable sense that the marchers feel they’re defending their history against a world that wants to forget their contribution to defeating Nazism.
The numbers vary. Sometimes it’s a few hundred; other years, it pushes past a thousand. But the size doesn't change the atmosphere. It’s intense.
Why this march creates so much friction
Let’s be real. You can’t separate this march from the current war in Ukraine. That’s where the "better version" of this story lives—in the messy reality of the present. For many Americans and members of the Eastern European diaspora, seeing Russian symbols in the heart of the U.S. capital is provocative. They see it as "soft power" or propaganda.
The marchers disagree. They argue that the sacrifice of 27 million Soviet citizens shouldn't be erased because of 21st-century borders. This creates a bizarre, silent standoff on the streets of D.C. You have the marchers on one side, and often, protesters on the other. It’s a collision of two different versions of history.
One group says: "We saved the world from fascism."
The other group says: "You're using that history to justify new aggression."
Both sides feel they're the ones holding the moral high ground. It makes the air in the city feel heavy. It’s a lot to process for a tourist who just wanted to see the Lincoln Memorial.
The logistics of remembrance in a hostile climate
Organizing an Immortal Regiment march in the U.S. isn't like organizing a 5K. The organizers have to jump through hoops that didn't exist ten years ago. There are insurance requirements, police escorts, and the constant threat of counter-protests.
- Permit navigation: The National Park Service handles the Mall, but the streets belong to the city. Coordination is a nightmare.
- Symbolism: Many participants have started toning down the modern flags to focus strictly on the historical photos to avoid unnecessary conflict.
- The Route: Usually, it starts near the White House on Pennsylvania Avenue. The walk is short, maybe fifteen minutes, but every step is documented by dozens of cameras.
The overlooked stories in the frames
The photos themselves tell the real story. If you look closely at the placards, you see names from across the former USSR. You see Kazakh names, Ukrainian names, Georgian names, and Russian names. This is the irony that most people miss. The Red Army wasn't just Russians. It was a multi-ethnic force.
I remember seeing a man carrying a photo of two brothers. One died in the Battle of Stalingrad. The other made it all the way to Berlin but died a week after the surrender. The man carrying the photo was their grand-nephew who now works as an IT consultant in Virginia. He doesn't care about the news cycle. He cares that his kids know why those two boys never came home to their village.
This is the "why" behind the event. People want to feel connected to a legacy that feels bigger than their daily lives. They want to say, "My family mattered."
Getting the history right
We often forget how lopsided the casualties were in World War II. For every American soldier who died, about 60 Soviet citizens perished. That’s a staggering statistic. When people march in Washington, they're trying to force that reality into the American consciousness. We focus on D-Day—and we should—but for these marchers, the war was won on the Eastern Front.
The Immortal Regiment started in Tomsk, Siberia, in 2012. Three journalists came up with the idea. It wasn't a government project back then. It was supposed to be a non-political way to honor the "silent regiment." The fact that it has spread to cities like New York, San Francisco, and Washington D.C. shows how deeply it resonates with the diaspora.
What you should do if you encounter the march
Don't just look at the flags. Look at the faces in the photos. If you’re a history buff, it’s a goldmine. You’ll see rare uniforms and medals that you’d normally only see in a museum.
If you want to understand the perspective of the participants, talk to them. Most are happy to tell you who is in their photo. They’ll tell you about a grandfather who was a tank commander or a great-aunt who was a nurse in a field hospital. You don't have to agree with their politics to respect their grief.
If you're planning to attend or observe a future march, keep these points in mind:
- Respect the silence: While there is singing, there are also long moments of silence. It’s a funeral procession as much as it is a parade.
- Check the schedule: These events always happen around May 9th, which is Victory Day in Eastern Europe, not May 8th (VE Day in the West).
- Stay informed: Monitor local D.C. news for road closures around the Ellipse and the WWII Memorial.
The Immortal Regiment isn't going away. As long as there are descendants of those who fought, they will keep showing up on the streets of Washington. It’s a stubborn, defiant act of memory in a city that usually focuses on the future.
If you’re interested in the historical context, look up the records of the 1st Ukrainian Front or the 1st Belorussian Front. You’ll see the scale of the operations these ancestors were involved in. It’s easy to judge a movement from a distance, but it’s a lot harder when you’re standing face-to-face with a photo of a nineteen-year-old who died in a trench eighty years ago. History is never as clean as the textbooks make it out to be.
