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Yahoo
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Real fighting, first-person footage – is this the greatest war film ever made?
The lights go down in the cinema, the curtain parts and we are in a dug-out on the eastern front line in Ukraine. 'Are you filming?' asks one soldier. 'Yeah,' replies his comrade, Bors. 'Film how beautiful I am,' the soldier says, blowing a kiss. Then all hell breaks loose. A Russian missile thumps into the earth feet from the men's position. 'FPV!' screams Bors, raising his rifle to shoot down an incoming first-person view drone. Suddenly a second missile lands, showering the men with mud and debris. Bors decides to move before another missile strikes and enters a landscape of hellish devastation: splintered tree trunks jut out of the mud. Lightning flashes. Smoke rises from craters in the ground. There is another blast. This time, the Russian missile knocks Bors to the ground, breaking both his legs and leaving him gazing up, in agony, at the sky. 'Don't even think about blowing yourself up,' a comrade begs. This is the opening scene of 2000 Metres to Andriivka, the latest film from Mstyslav Chernov, the Ukrainian director who won an Oscar for 20 Days in Mariupol and a Pulitzer prize for his reporting from that city under attack. It would be dramatic enough if it were a feature film or a video game, but this is a documentary, much of it culled from footage shot by soldiers on the front line. The result is a viewing experience unike any other in cinema, and the closest the comfortable world will come to the terror, agony and mad-eyed courage of the men holding back the army of Vladimir Putin. A masterpiece of story-telling, it's one of the most impactful war films ever made; never before has a European land war, as intense as 1914 or 1939, been captured like this. An establishing shot filmed by drone shows a narrow strip of forest leading to Andriivka, a tiny village in Ukraine held by Russian forces. The Ukrainian counter-offensive of 2023 is underway and the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade has been ordered to retake the village, severing a crucial supply route for Moscow's forces in the blood-drenched city of Bakhmut. For three years, the world has watched grim, grainy footage of the war in Ukraine. The battles are fought by nameless men for often nameless places. In 2000m, Chernov reverses the equation: he captures the humanity of the university students, engineers and IT workers who are called upon to fight and die for every metre of land on the way to Andriivka. The battles take place only a few hours' drive from Chernov's birthplace of Kharkiv, a city he says only remains free because of the sacrifices of soldiers like those he follows here. 'They are the only reason the places of my childhood still exist,' he says. Distance matters intensely to the platoon. In the film, their battles in the forest over the course of three months are introduced in terms of the distance remaining to reach Andriivka; 1000m, 600m, 300m. But traversing another distance was also on Chernov's mind. 2000 Metres to Andriivka 'I wanted to shoot something that will express how different it feels to be there on the frontline, but at the same time, how close it is to the normal world we all know,' Chernov, 40, says when we speak over Zoom ahead of the film's release. During filming, he flew from premieres of 20 Days in Mariupol in London to the front line in Ukraine in under 24 hours to embed with the soldiers. 'That transition was so striking and dramatic for me. Like going back 100 years, or to another planet.' Western audiences might have a sense of the counter-offensive raging to the east, but it is inevitably filtered through scraps of deracinated footage. 'We keep seeing this footage on YouTube, Telegram and Instagram,' says Chernov. 'I can see how people are detached from the violence, watching through their small screens without context, without connecting to the people who are doing it. I want to make sure people don't look at battlefield footage like it's a video game.' Displaying the same bravery that saw him remain in starving Mariupol for 20 days after Russian forces entered the city, Chernov decided to join the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade on its final push for Andriivka, linking up with Fedya, a 24-year-old sergeant and unit leader tasked with raising the Ukrainian flag over the village. In his voiceover for the film, Chernov admits that one commander 'tells us we are idiots for wanting to go.' The forest is a death-trap. Russian snipers, mortar teams and drones have wiped out dozens of men, and those sent in are filmed visibly shaking ahead of their deployment. But Chernov's reward for putting his life in danger are powerful interviews conducted off-the-cuff with soldiers who know they are only ever moments from death, hiding under trees or crammed into dug-outs. Sometimes the camera will lie on the floor while the men open up in a way that would be impossible in the formal sitdown interviews typically used in documentaries. Throughout the film's 106 minutes, the viewer never leaves the battlefield, unlike spiritual predecessors such as Sebastian Junger's Restrepo (2010), which covered a platoon's deployment to Afghanistan's deadly Korengal Valley, or Mosul (2017), depicting the war against the Islamic State. And its characters shine through. First, we meet 'Freak', a 22-year-old radio operator who has been tasked with ferrying Chernov and his second cameraman to Fedya. The men realise they went to rival universities in Kharkiv. In between puffs on a Lost Mary vape, Freak breaks into a huge smile as they joke about whether he should move to a separate dug-out. 'We'll get back and settle it,' he says, as a missile lands nearby. 'Who's better.' Then comes the call to move up and out. 'Yes, the film could exist entirely edited from bodycam footage and drone footage,' says Chernov. But he felt compelled to walk alongside the soldiers to bring their stories to life. 'Partially, that comes from my civilian perspective as being Ukrainian,' he explains. 'I'm a journalist, I'm a film-maker… but just having that guilt of not doing enough in my head also pushes me to step in and to be closer to these men.' Further up the forest we see Sheva, an older man who at first asks not to be filmed. 'I haven't done anything yet,' he says, hunched in a corner of a dug-out. 'Do you smoke?' asks Alex Babenko, Chernov's second cameraman. 'I smoke like a freight train,' replies Sheva, before speculating on what his wife is doing at that moment, and remembering that he has not, as he promised to, fixed the toilet. 'Maybe I shouldn't say that I'll quit smoking [after the war],' he says. 'But maybe I'll smoke just a normal amount, without all these extra smoke breaks.' 2000 Metres to Andriivka It is a funny, out-of-place exchange, almost ecstatic in its mundanity. And then, comes terrible news. A few months after the battle for Andriivka, explains the voice-over, Sheva is wounded and killed. The laughs in the cinema turn to gulped-down sobs. 'When you talk to someone on the front line, there is always this fear that this might be the last conversation you're having with that person,' Chernov says. In Sheva's case, these few minutes of film are also the last recording of him alive. At a premiere for family members of the brigade earlier this year in Kyiv, Chernov met with Sheva's wife. 'Every second of it was a treasure,' she told him, and would be too for their daughter and grandson. The brutal toll of the push for Andriivka colours the film. There are strategic debates about why the counter-offensive failed that Chernov deliberately avoids: was it right to fight so long for Bakhmut? Did the Americans push too hard for a full-frontal assault on hardened Russian lines? Instead, 2000m focuses on the narrow experience of the soldiers, and poses deeper, more existential questions. In essence, the film records a Pyrrhic victory: Fedya raises the flag above Andriivka, but within months that village – no more than a pile of bones and rubble – is recaptured by Russian forces. Chernov wonders in the film how long Ukraine can keep fighting a war like this, and at least leaves open the question of whether anything can be worth such loss. The death of many of the men featured in the film posed challenges to Chernov, changing the tone of the final product. 'We spent a lot of time thinking, 'How do we do this right? How do we do this respectfully?'' His answer was that the film, in effect, would serve as a living memorial: 'I need to make sure this man will be heard and seen,' he says. At a funeral for one of the members of the brigade, a crying woman laments that all the country's young men will soon be dead. But 2000m is not a lecture. Fedya himself provides a constant shot of optimism, leading his men into battle with what is, quite simply, an indomitable spirit. 'I think this is the power of cinema, especially for modern audiences who are bombarded with radical opinions and ideologies,' says Chernov. 'It is very important for film-makers to step back a little bit and let the audience decide how they feel.' A former Associated Press photographer, who has covered wars in Gaza, Libya, Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq, Chernov does have one agenda: to bring the suffering of his countrymen to the attention of a wider, and potentially influential, audience. As we speak, he is hoping to arrange a screening for senior Republicans, a route perhaps to Donald Trump, on a US tour. Some viewers may be drawn to the film by the ground-breaking technology it employs. To capture the battle at 600m, footage is spliced together from seven different helmet cameras: the effect is immersive to the point of whiplash, a real-life version of the D-Day scene in Saving Private Ryan. (It was 'simply unheard of even a few years ago' to be able to film something like this, says Chernov.) But the director also employs techniques lifted from fictional films to lure in an audience that might be more comfortable watching Dune than events in the Donbas. Deep, stomach-churning bass accompanies 2000 metres, scored by Sam Slater, the producer of soundtracks for Sicario and Joker. An insistent, military drumbeat similarly drives the men forward. The combined effect is one of ferocious, blood-stained momentum. 'The film has a very raw, visual language,' says Chernov. 'But we use all the instruments of dramatic structure, music and editing, to make sure the audience will not walk away. Because we are inviting the audience into extremely tough conditions. We are basically inviting the audience to experience war.' At a preview screening of the film in London, Chernov was met with a long standing ovation. He is already working on a third film on the war in Ukraine, having taken on the role as its great documentarian, an empathetic eye in a morass of dehumanised news. 'Once this war is over, maybe I'll just make nature films,' he says. 'Very peaceful films somewhere quiet.' 2000 Metres to Andriivka is in cinemas from today Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Yahoo
01-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Ukraine is losing its drone supremacy
Credit: Social Media In an undisclosed location near the front line, Vanya, a Ukrainian soldier, traverses through a field covered in the traces of a deadly Russian weapon. It's not unexploded ordnance or landmines beneath his boots, however, but an endless stream of razor-thin fibre-optic cables, glistening in the sun while spooled out across the landscape. These are the lifelines of Russia's most effective weapon – fibre-optic guided FPV drones. Once an obscure experiment, these drones have become one of the defining weapons of the battlefield in recent months, impervious to jamming and able to strike targets far behind enemy lines with chilling precision. X/@GrandpaRoy2 What's more, while Ukraine first pioneered drone warfare, it's Russia that appears to have mastered this next phase. 'Our advantage in drones, which we have held since 2023, has been surpassed by the Russians,' a senior non-commissioned officer with Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade, call sign 'Jackie', told The Telegraph. 'We did all the work of innovating drones as a weapon, but we did not scale this weapon fast enough on an industrial level for it to have a meaningful strategic effect. We were too slow.' The dominance of fibre-optic drones marks a pivot in drone warfare. In 2024, Ukrainian and Russian production of traditional, radio-controlled FPV drones surged. But these drones relied on radio frequencies, meaning they increasingly fell prey to electronic warfare (EW) jamming. In fact, by the end of last year, up to 75 per cent of drones fired by Russia and Ukraine were being knocked out by jamming, according to military expert Pavlo Narozhny. Enter the fibre-optic drone – a wired throwback to Cold War-era anti-tank missiles like the US-made TOW (Tube-launched, Optically tracked, Wire-guided), but refashioned for modern aerial warfare. The drones themselves appear unremarkable – quadcopters rigged with explosive payloads – except for a large, cylindrical spool mounted underneath, feeding out a strand of fibre-optic cable as they fly. This physical tether between pilot and drone makes them impossible to knock out using jamming. The tactical implications are vast. Fibre-optic drones can fly into hangars, bunkers, dense urban terrain or tree cover with no loss of signal. Their camera feed is clearer. They don't emit detectable signals, meaning typical radio frequency detectors can't pick them up. And they don't expose the operator's location. 'They're really great when you need to fly into some kind of building, like a large shed or hangar, to have a look inside if there is something there with the ability to strike it straight away,' Oleksandr 'Skhid,' an FPV drone team commander in Ukraine's Achilles Strike Drone Regiment, told the Kyiv Independent. 'The same goes for other types of cover, and flying in forested areas.' The drones can typically travel up to 25km, comparable to the range of the most commonly used radio controlled FPVs, with a prototype developed by Ukraine's '414th Strike UAV Battalion' reaching up to 41km. The technology itself isn't new. In fact, Russia began deploying these makeshift drones after Ukraine launched its daring incursion into Kursk last August. But what makes the Russian deployment of these drones so dangerous is the recent increase in scale. Once seen as clunky and niche, they are now being mass-produced and have been deployed along key front lines. 'You can barely walk through the fields after fibre optic drones have flown through,' Pasha, a senior instructor at Kyiv's Dragon Sky UAV training centre, told the Telegraph. Russia's ruthless deployment of the drones was on full display during the recent intensive push to drive Ukrainian forces out of Kursk in an effort led by Russia's elite 'Rubicon' drone unit. Footage captured in March showed a Ukrainian vehicle packed with soldiers hurtling along the R200 road, which linked Ukraine to the town of Sudzha, its last remaining stronghold inside the Russian border region. Credit: Telegram/@Brigada83 It was hunted down and destroyed by a Russian fibre-optic drone, which was lying in wait on the side of the road. Within weeks, that same road was littered with the carcasses of vehicles destroyed in a similar fashion. The drones have also been responsible for the destruction of Ukrainian armoured vehicles and key weapons – often deep behind the front line in locations radio-controlled drones would struggle to reach because of jamming and radio horizon. In Chasiv Yar, for example, the Rubicon unit destroyed one of Ukraine's precious US-made Himars using a fibre-optic drone 10km behind the front line. 'They have pushed the safe zone to 10-15 km away from the front line, have made logistics and troop rotation more complicated and forced us to double down on digging deep down and disguising the locations and bunkers,' a spokesperson for the Khartia Brigade of the Ukrainian National Guard said. 'They're a game changer,' agreed 'Uncle Sasha', a front-line FPV instructor and officer in Ukraine's National Police Aviation Division. 'Everyone is trying to find countermeasures to fibre-optic drones – we don't have them, and neither do the Russians.' Credit: Russian Ministry of Defence / 'Rubicon' drone unit Despite their battlefield success, fibre-optic drones are no silver bullet. They're expensive – just one fibre spool can cost $700 (£520), enough to buy two conventional drones – and their range is limited by the cable length. They are also heavier, and therefore often slower. To achieve the same speeds as a radio-controlled drone, a heavier fibre-optic drone must expend more battery power, limiting its range. As a result, most pilots flying fibre drones typically fly them at much slower speeds. They also have much lower manoeuvrability, due to the trailing cable, which must be precisely spooled to avoid tangles, and a strong wind can upend a stationary drone hunting its prey mid-mission. 'Fibre optic drones are very, very, very slow,' explained Mr Narozhy, whose Reactive Post NGO provides spare parts to the Ukrainian military. 'At the start of the flight, the weight is well-centred, but by the end, it's often off-balance.' There are signs that both sides are developing countermeasures, however rudimentary. 'In one case, a group of Ukrainian soldiers saw a Russian drone fly past them,' recalled Pasha. 'They realised it was a Russian drone so just went out and snapped the cable.' Ukraine is also experimenting with drone-catching fishing nets, wooden decoys, and even placing soldiers with shotguns near artillery systems, a solution so manpower-intensive it is near impossible to sustain. High-tech radar systems that can detect fibre-optic drones up to 20km away do exist but cost over a million euros each. 'Ukraine cannot afford to put this on every artillery station,' Mr Narozhy said. Such systems also produce emissions that are easily detected by Russian radar detectors. Credit: Telegram/@Brigada83 Ironically, Ukraine may have had the head start. Fibre-optic drones were reportedly first conceived by Ukrainian engineers but shelved early on due to the effectiveness of cheaper, more agile FPV drones, and the absence of effective Russian jamming. Now, at least on the fibre optic front, Kyiv is playing catch-up. 'While Ukrainian drone teams and innovators have achieved great success at the tactical level, we have failed to leverage our tactical advantage into strategic success,' said 'Jackie' of the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade. 'The window of time we held this tactical advantage has now closed.' 'It's possible we will achieve another level of technological innovation during this war,' he added. 'But it's not important that it works. It's important that we can scale it up so fast that the enemy cannot react to it.' For Russia, the Rubicon-led development of fibre-optic drones is part of the Kremlin's wider push to gain the upper hand in the battle for drone supremacy. Following the successful Kursk counter-offensive, Rubucion's drone pilots now operate in at least seven specialist detachments across eastern Ukraine, carrying out complex, decentralised missions. The Russian defence ministry has also established its own version of Ukraine's unmanned systems forces to boost the use of all types of drones by Russia's armed forces, with Andrei Belousov, the Russian defence minister, announcing the creation of a new military unit planned to be completed by July 1 this year. It is also worth noting that Ukrainian drones, both radio-controlled and fibre-optic, still retain their brutal effectiveness. With Russia currently on the offensive, Ukrainian drone pilots have an easier time striking infantry and armoured vehicles, while Ukraine's own elite drone teams regularly strike Russian logistics vehicles, air defence systems, and artillery pieces deep behind the front line. In any case, the implications, as with many new developments in the war, extend beyond Ukraine. Western militaries, reliant on jamming and electronic warfare to counter drones, would be 'completely and totally vulnerable to fibre optic FPV drones,' one Ukrainian source warned. 'All current counter-measures used by Western militaries, such as electronic warfare systems, are useless against such drones, and they have no experience operating in an environment where FPVs saturate the battlefield.' In the meantime, Ukraine is racing to find an effective countermeasure that extends beyond using wooden decoys and shooting drones down with shotguns. This is a technological arms race and Russia, even if temporarily, has the lead. 'We were laughing at them before,' said Pasha. 'But now it's not funny.' Still, hope persists. 'This is a big problem for us,' said Uncle Sasha. 'But it's a problem for the Russians too, and I think we will solve it. We will find a solution to protect us from this technology.' Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
01-06-2025
- Politics
- Telegraph
Ukraine is losing its drone supremacy
In an undisclosed location near the front line, Vanya, a Ukrainian soldier, traverses through a field covered in the traces of a deadly Russian weapon. It's not unexploded ordnance or landmines beneath his boots, however, but an endless stream of razor-thin fibre-optic cables, glistening in the sun while spooled out across the landscape. These are the lifelines of Russia's most effective weapon – fibre-optic guided FPV drones. Once an obscure experiment, these drones have become one of the defining weapons of the battlefield in recent months, impervious to jamming and able to strike targets far behind enemy lines with chilling precision. What's more, while Ukraine first pioneered drone warfare, it's Russia that appears to have mastered this next phase. 'Our advantage in drones, which we have held since 2023, has been surpassed by the Russians,' a senior non-commissioned officer with Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade, call sign 'Jackie', told The Telegraph. 'We did all the work of innovating drones as a weapon, but we did not scale this weapon fast enough on an industrial level for it to have a meaningful strategic effect. We were too slow.' Pivot in drone warfare The dominance of fibre-optic drones marks a pivot in drone warfare. In 2024, Ukrainian and Russian production of traditional, radio-controlled FPV drones surged. But these drones relied on radio frequencies, meaning they increasingly fell prey to electronic warfare (EW) jamming. In fact, by the end of last year, up to 75 per cent of drones fired by Russia and Ukraine were being knocked out by jamming, according to military expert Pavlo Narozhny. Enter the fibre-optic drone – a wired throwback to Cold War-era anti-tank missiles like the US-made TOW (Tube-launched, Optically tracked, Wire-guided), but refashioned for modern aerial warfare. The drones themselves appear unremarkable – quadcopters rigged with explosive payloads – except for a large, cylindrical spool mounted underneath, feeding out a strand of fibre-optic cable as they fly. This physical tether between pilot and drone makes them impossible to knock out using jamming. The tactical implications are vast. Fibre-optic drones can fly into hangars, bunkers, dense urban terrain or tree cover with no loss of signal. Their camera feed is clearer. They don't emit detectable signals, meaning typical radio frequency detectors can't pick them up. And they don't expose the operator's location. 'They're really great when you need to fly into some kind of building, like a large shed or hangar, to have a look inside if there is something there with the ability to strike it straight away,' Oleksandr 'Skhid,' an FPV drone team commander in Ukraine's Achilles Strike Drone Regiment, told the Kyiv Independent. 'The same goes for other types of cover, and flying in forested areas.' Technology isn't new The drones can typically travel up to 25km, comparable to the range of the most commonly used radio controlled FPVs, with a prototype developed by Ukraine's '414th Strike UAV Battalion' reaching up to 41km. The technology itself isn't new. In fact, Russia began deploying these makeshift drones after Ukraine launched its daring incursion into Kursk last August. But what makes the Russian deployment of these drones so dangerous is the recent increase in scale. Once seen as clunky and niche, they are now being mass-produced and have been deployed along key front lines. 'You can barely walk through the fields after fibre optic drones have flown through,' Pasha, a senior instructor at Kyiv's Dragon Sky UAV training centre, told the Telegraph. Russia's ruthless deployment of the drones was on full display during the recent intensive push to drive Ukrainian forces out of Kursk in an effort led by Russia's elite 'Rubicon' drone unit. Footage captured in March showed a Ukrainian vehicle packed with soldiers hurtling along the R200 road, which linked Ukraine to the town of Sudzha, its last remaining stronghold inside the Russian border region. It was hunted down and destroyed by a Russian fibre-optic drone, which was lying in wait on the side of the road. Within weeks, that same road was littered with the carcasses of vehicles destroyed in a similar fashion. The drones have also been responsible for the destruction of Ukrainian armoured vehicles and key weapons – often deep behind the front line in locations radio-controlled drones would struggle to reach because of jamming and radio horizon. In Chasiv Yar, for example, the Rubicon unit destroyed one of Ukraine's precious US-made Himars using a fibre-optic drone 10km behind the front line. 'They have pushed the safe zone to 10-15 km away from the front line, have made logistics and troop rotation more complicated and forced us to double down on digging deep down and disguising the locations and bunkers,' a spokesperson for the Khartia Brigade of the Ukrainian National Guard said. 'They're a game changer,' agreed 'Uncle Sasha', a front-line FPV instructor and officer in Ukraine's National Police Aviation Division. 'Everyone is trying to find countermeasures to fibre-optic drones – we don't have them, and neither do the Russians.' No silver bullet Despite their battlefield success, fibre-optic drones are no silver bullet. They're expensive – just one fibre spool can cost $700 (£520), enough to buy two conventional drones – and their range is limited by the cable length. They are also heavier, and therefore often slower. To achieve the same speeds as a radio controlled drone, a heavier fibre-optic drone must expend more battery power, limiting its range. As a result, most pilots flying fibre drones typically fly them at much slower speeds. They also have much lower manoeuvrability, due to the trailing cable, which must be precisely spooled to avoid tangles, and a strong wind can upend a stationary drone hunting its prey mid-mission. 'Fibre optic drones are very, very, very slow,' explained Mr Narozhy, whose Reactive Post NGO provides spare parts to the Ukrainian military. 'At the start of the flight, the weight is well centred, but by the end, it's often off-balance.' There are signs that both sides are developing countermeasures, however rudimentary. 'In one case, a group of Ukrainian soldiers saw a Russian drone fly past them,' recalled Pasha. 'They realised it was a Russian drone so just went out and snapped the cable.' Ukraine is also experimenting with drone-catching fishing nets, wooden decoys, and even placing soldiers with shotguns near artillery systems, a solution so manpower-intensive it is near impossible to sustain. High-tech radar systems that can detect fibre-optic drones up to 20km away do exist but cost over a million euros each. 'Ukraine cannot afford to put this on every artillery station,' Mr Narozhy said. Such systems also produce emissions that are easily detected by Russian radar detectors. Ironically, Ukraine may have had the head start. Fibre-optic drones were reportedly first conceived by Ukrainian engineers but shelved early on due to the effectiveness of cheaper, more agile FPV drones, and the absence of effective Russian jamming. Now, at least on the fibre optic front, Kyiv is playing catch-up. 'While Ukrainian drone teams and innovators have achieved great success at the tactical level, we have failed to leverage our tactical advantage into strategic success,' said 'Jackie' of the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade. 'The window of time we held this tactical advantage has now closed.' 'It's possible we will achieve another level of technological innovation during this war,' he added. 'But it's not important that it works. It's important that we can scale it up so fast that the enemy cannot react to it.' For Russia, the Rubicon-led development of fibre-optic drones is part of the Kremlin's wider push to gain the upper hand in the battle for drone supremacy. Following the successful Kursk counter-offensive, Rubucion's drone pilots now operate in at least seven specialist detachments across eastern Ukraine, carrying out complex, decentralised missions. The Russian defence ministry has also established its own version of Ukraine's unmanned systems forces to boost the use of all types of drones by Russia's armed forces, with Andrei Belousov, the Russian defence minister, announcing the creation of a new military unit planned to be completed by July 1 this year. It is also worth noting that Ukrainian drones, both radio-controlled and fibre optic, still retain their brutal effectiveness. With Russia currently on the offensive, Ukrainian drone pilots have an easier time striking infantry and armoured vehicles, while Ukraine's own elite drone teams regularly strike Russian logistics vehicles, air defence systems, and artillery pieces deep behind the front line. Warning for the West In any case, the implications – as with many new developments in the war – extend beyond Ukraine. Western militaries, reliant on jamming and electronic warfare to counter drones, would be 'completely and totally vulnerable to fibre optic FPV drones,' one Ukrainian source warned. 'All current counter-measures used by Western militaries such as electronic warfare systems are useless against such drones, and they have no experience operating in an environment where FPVs saturate the battlefield.' In the meantime, Ukraine is racing to find an effective countermeasure that extends beyond using wooden decoys and shooting drones down with shotguns. This is a technological arms race and Russia, even if temporarily, has the lead. 'We were laughing at them before,' said Pasha. 'But now it's not funny.' Still, hope persists. 'This is a big problem for us,' said Uncle Sasha. 'But it's a problem for the Russians too; and I think we will solve it. We will find a solution to protect us from this technology.'
Yahoo
06-05-2025
- Yahoo
A night with the medics of Ukraine's 3rd Assault Brigade on Kharkiv Oblast front
Yahoo is using AI to generate takeaways from this article. This means the info may not always match what's in the article. Reporting mistakes helps us improve the experience. Yahoo is using AI to generate takeaways from this article. This means the info may not always match what's in the article. Reporting mistakes helps us improve the experience. Yahoo is using AI to generate takeaways from this article. This means the info may not always match what's in the article. Reporting mistakes helps us improve the experience. Generate Key Takeaways Editor's Note: Due to the security protocols of the brigade featured in this story, Ukrainian soldiers and military medics mentioned are identified by their callsigns only. KHARKIV OBLAST – As is usually the case at stabilization points across Ukraine in the fourth year of Russia's full-scale war, peak hour for the arrival of the wounded comes at sunset. Three members of one of the heavy bomber drone teams have been evacuated, two of whom are carrying nasty burns after their dugout was spotted and set on fire by a Russian drone-dropped incendiary munition. In Ukraine's military medical system, these are all considered light wounds. Still, dressing these bad burns is painful enough to justify putting them under, if briefly. Military medics of Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade tend to wounded soldiers at a stabilization point near the front line in Kharkiv Oblast, on April 23, 2025. (Francis Farrell/The Kyiv Independent) This stabilization point belongs to Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade, which, along with other attached units, has been serving for around a year on the front line in eastern Kharkiv Oblast, holding territory that was first liberated from Russian occupation in autumn 2022. While less intense and largely more stable than other hotspots of the front line in Donetsk Oblast, this area saw a gradual uptick in Russian attacks over autumn and winter, with Moscow's forces looking to take back the territory east of the Oskil River. While the others are having their wounds dressed, the soldier who managed to escape with the lightest burns — callsign "Rebro" — must grapple with a painful truth. There was a fourth member of the team, callsign "Chornyi," or "Black." Losing consciousness and falling to the ground inside the dugout, and wearing body armor on top of his already heavy frame, Chornyi could not be carried out of the inferno. "My brother-in-arms, the one I was trying to drag out, he fell right before the entrance," said Rebro. "I couldn't carry him." After making it out, Chornyi's team members made a final attempt to go in and save him. "After we scattered across the treeline, I understood that one of us was left behind; he must have lost consciousness," said Rebro. "We tried to go back and get him out, but everything was burning already." "One was left behind... my mate..." Rebro trails off, breaking into tears as a nurse attempts to console him. A wounded soldier of Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade at a stabilization point near the front line in Kharkiv Oblast, on April 23, 2025. (Francis Farrell/The Kyiv Independent) Since forming in 2022, the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade has become not only one of the Ukrainian military's largest formations but also one of its most well-known, thanks to a public media presence and recruiting campaigns unprecedented for a single brigade. As part of reforms to the Ukrainian army's command structure, the 3rd Assault was one of the few brigades selected to take the responsibility of leading one of the newly formed army corps. One of the unit's biggest sources of pride is its highly professional medical service, bringing cutting-edge equipment and a broad range of specialists to stabilization points like this close to the front line. Military doctor, callsign "Zelenyi," of Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade at a stabilization point near the front line in Kharkiv Oblast, on April 23, 2025. (Francis Farrell/The Kyiv Independent) Getting the best care possible, as soon as possible, is crucial — both for saving lives and for giving patients the best chance of a full recovery. This is especially true when the swift evacuation of wounded, particularly from infantry positions on the zero line, has grown practically impossible in many parts of the front line. The high saturation of enemy drones in the air means that even moving around on foot, let alone on a vehicle, makes one a target for a high-precision drone strike within a few minutes. As a result, soldiers, especially infantrymen, must often wait for days at front-line positions for the right conditions to arise and make evacuation possible. "The wounds are mostly from drones now," said one of the brigade's surgeons on the shift who goes by the callsign "Zelenyi" (Green). "It could be a light wound, but when (Russian) drones don't let us get (the injured) out, the wounds get infections, we see abscesses and the like develop." Often, antibiotics and painkillers can be delivered by drones to try and help relieve the situation at a distance, but it's only a temporary solution. In the event of a wound leading to a critical bleed and the application of a tourniquet, waiting several days before evacuation usually means that the limb cannot be saved. The result: loss of blood circulation, gangrene, and many more amputee veterans on Ukrainian streets for decades after the end of the fighting. Military medics of Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade tend to wounded soldiers at a stabilization point near the front line in Kharkiv Oblast, on April 23, 2025. (Francis Farrell/The Kyiv Independent) Not long after the group is taken out for further treatment, a pair of two more wounded soldiers is brought in. It's one of the brigade's artillery teams, this time with light shrapnel wounds. Once again, they were the target of a Russian drone strike, and once again, one of them didn't make it out alive. Both of the soldiers are conscious and on their feet, but one has suffered a shrapnel wound right under his right eye. It's not immediately clear whether the red, swollen eye has sustained direct damage, but after careful cleaning of the wound, the doctors are relieved to find that it hasn't. A wounded soldier of Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade at a stabilization point near the front line in Kharkiv Oblast, on April 23, 2025. (Francis Farrell/The Kyiv Independent) Military medics of Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade tend to wounded soldiers at a stabilization point near the front line in Kharkiv Oblast, on April 23, 2025. (Francis Farrell/The Kyiv Independent) The fact that those brought in to the stabilization point were from Ukrainian artillery and drone teams was no coincidence: their working positions, while also getting more dangerous with every passing month, are at least slightly further back from the zero line, making timely evacuation possible. Meanwhile, for wounded infantry, already living and fighting in the most difficult conditions of any soldier, the wait times are only getting longer and longer, with no light at the end of the tunnel. Military therapist "Luna" of Ukraine's 3rd Separate Assault Brigade at a stabilization point near the front line in Kharkiv Oblast, on April 23, 2025. (Francis Farrell/The Kyiv Independent) For military therapist "Luna," finding the strength to continue is not a matter she has a choice in. "There is no one of us in this war — whether it's for three years, two, or even just one — who hasn't been deeply changed by it," she said, after finishing the dressing on the last artilleryman's shrapnel-speckled leg. "Can we continue? It's not the right question, we simply must." You can watch the video version of this story on the Kyiv Independent's YouTube channel: Note from the author: Hi, this is Francis Farrell, the author of this piece. There are some moments in our line of work that make you just stop in your tracks, confronted with the scale and intensity of the horror before you. Seeing a grown man break down in tears as the adrenaline wore off because of his teammate that they couldn't drag out of the burning dugout, yes, that was one of them. Ukrainians are tired, hurt, and sick to their stomach of this war, everyone here wants peace, but Russia's goal remains this country's annihilation, and sometimes it feels like people in the West forget about this. We could just stay in Kyiv and report from there, but we go to the war regularly, to bring this clarity back to you, before the war itself comes knocking. Please consider supporting our reporting. We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.
Russia Today
05-05-2025
- Russia Today
Russian glide bombs pound Kiev's troops (VIDEOS)
Multiple new videos emerged online over the weekend, highlighting the continuing active use of free-fall aerial bombs fitted with winged upgrade kits. Russian aircraft have been deploying glide bombs to destroy Ukrainian forces' positions, as well as military installation in the near rear beyond the frontline. The Russian military has been actively using FAB bombs fitted with Universal Correction and Guidance Modules (UMPK) winged upgrade kits since early 2023. The winged module turns old free-fall bombs into guided high-precision munition, as well as drastically expands their range, allowing war planes to deploy the bombs without getting in the reach of anti-aircraft defenses. The UMPKs were initially used with smaller high-explosive bombs such as FAB-250 or FAB-500, making it to larger munitions, such as FAB-1500 and FAB-3000 later into the conflict. The upgrade kits have been also used with including thermobaric ODAB-1500 and cluster RBK-500 bombs. In one of the fresh videos, a purported massive FAB-3000 bomb is seen leveling a temporary deployment point of Ukrainian troops in the town of Kupyansk in Kharkov Region. The bomb is one of the most powerful in the series, weighing more than three tons. More footage, also from Kupyansk, purports to show a winged FAB-3000 bomb striking a building used as a command post by the Ukrainian military. Another drone video, filmed in the village of Borovaya, Kharkov Region, apparently shows a smaller-caliber winged bomb in action, likely a FAB-1500. The strike reportedly destroyed a temporary deployment point of the Ukrainian 3rd Separate Assault Brigade, a neo-Nazi unit formed from the remnants of the notorious Azov regiment.
