Latest news with #68thBrigade
Mint
08-07-2025
- Mint
How old-school tech is rewiring drone warfare in Ukraine
DOBROPILLYA, Ukraine—The drone slipped under a bridge and edged toward a human-shaped object resting on a platform inside one of its cement supports. Through its camera, the Ukrainian pilot saw a sleeping Russian soldier wrapped in a red blanket, apparently oblivious to the deadly machine buzzing beside him. The ambush that killed the Russian last month was only possible because the drone was guided by a fiber-optic cable that allowed the pilot to maintain a direct connection behind the tons of concrete. Such ingenious attacks are taking place across the east of the country, where Ukraine is trying to blunt Russia's grinding advance with a new generation of quadcopters steered by long coils of ultrathin and highly versatile wire. As Russia and Ukraine battle to gain an edge on the battlefield, fiber-optic drones are a distinctly old-school response to the way both sides have used electronic warfare and physical barriers to make most ordinary craft ineffective. Instead of using radio signals that can be easily blocked, fiber-optic drones transmit data back to the pilot through the cable they unspool as they fly. 'If it wasn't for those drones, I'm not sure what I'd be doing right now," said a top pilot with Ukraine's 68th Brigade's Dovbush Hornets, which carried out the bridge ambush that killed several Russians. 'Fiber optics is a lifeline." The rapid pace of technological innovation that has accompanied the war makes the arrival of fiber-optic drones seem like a logical development. A shortage of artillery shells since 2023 has forced Ukraine to increasingly rely on millions of so-called first-person-view—or FPV—drones, which are equipped with a camera and a small explosive to take out enemy soldiers, weapons caches and armored vehicles. But their reliance on radio signals has made them an easy target for electronic-warfare systems positioned all along the 600-mile front line and mounted atop vehicles across eastern Ukraine. A new solution was needed. That is where fiber-optic drones came in. On first glance, they resemble traditional wireless quadcopters. But a box strapped to the fiber-optic drone contains a coiled length of cable, usually up to 20 kilometers long, of the type used to power high-speed internet access. This line forms a link between the drone and a guidance device on the ground. During flight, the cable is unwound and released through a small opening in the box, ensuring an airtight connection between the device and its pilot. The drones can then be deployed at the beginning of a combined attack to disable Russian electronic-warfare systems and pave the way for squadrons of radio-guided drones to decimate the enemy position. Fiber-optic drones are a gamechanger in built-up areas, where walls or ravines interfere with radio signals. A skilled pilot can maneuver a fiber-optic drone around obstacles and strike the enemy where it least expects to be reached, destroying armored vehicles positioned on low ground or deep in the forest. They can also fly into buildings and wait for the appropriate target, or enter a garage or hangar and ambush the first Russian tank that drives in. 'You can park this drone on the ground and simply wait for a vehicle to come," said Michael Kofman, a defense expert at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. 'This is a logical adaptation considering how drones and electronic warfare have been evolving over the course of this war—one countering the other." The Dovbush Hornets, a unit named after an 18th-century Ukrainian outlaw, now fields one of the army's best drone teams. The 32-year-old pilot, who goes by the call sign 'Respected," spent months trying to adjust the frequencies of radio-guided drones to evade Russian electronic warfare, achieving unimpeded flight for brief periods before the Russians tapped the same wave. On missions inside Pokrovsk, a city once home to 80,000 people, the quadcopters launched by Respected's unit barely left the ground before they lost signal and became inoperable. Members of the Achilles Drone Regiment in the Kharkiv region of drones transmit data back to the pilot through the cable they unspool as they fly. The fiber-optic drones they began receiving in the spring had no such issues. Respected, an avid videogamer from Lviv who was mobilized into the army while out walking his dog in his pajamas in the fall of 2022, found that the new drones could maneuver around hard obstacles without losing signal. His unit used them to kill a group of Russians hiding inside a length of metal piping near a construction site close to the front line. In another mission, they flew inside an abandoned school and destroyed vast stores of equipment left by Russian soldiers. One video posted online showed Russian troops using wooden batons in a futile effort to knock out a fiber-optic drone. In another clip, a Russian emerges from a forest hideout after a fiber-optic drone flew past and films himself using heavy-duty scissors to cut the cable, causing the drone to crash. 'They create an effect of terror when you know there is no escape," said Lt. Andriy Kasianenko, a company commander in the Achilles Drone Regiment. 'You can be reached in buildings, in low-lying areas, anywhere." Tethered weapons aren't a new concept. Germany developed wire-guided air-to-air missiles during World War II and wire-guided antitank missiles have been in service for decades. Russia was the first to use fiber-optic drones in the war and deployed them successfully during its offensive to retake parts of the Kursk region last fall. During the fighting, some Russian pilots idled their drones by the roadside, waiting for Ukrainian vehicles to pass by before chasing them down the road and destroying them. Ukraine has raced to catch up with the Russians. It has started training its troops on the new technology, which it had experimented with earlier but never implemented in combat. In an age of wireless connectivity, Ukraine realized the weapons represent both a leap forward and an anachronism because cables make drones more unwieldy and often slower. The wire can veer off course in heavy wind or break if it gets twisted over a tree line or built-up area. Tanks and other vehicles with tracks can snap the cable if they drive over it, severing the drone's connection to the pilot. Before launching one recent flight, Respected's unit asked pedestrians in a busy shopping area to take a circuitous route on their morning errands to avoid interfering with the cable. Respected says the cable still snaps on half the flights he launches. It is also heavy. Most drones can carry a weight of 3 kilograms in flight, but a box containing 10 kilometers of fiber-optic cable spool weighs around 1.5 kilograms, limiting the payload they can carry. 'The longer the cable, the bigger the drone needs to be," said East, a pilot in Kasianenko's unit. 'But the bigger the drone, the easier it is for the Russians to stop and shoot it." When a fiber-optic drone reaches its target and detonates, the wire that trailed it remains on the ground. Miles of fiber-optic cable now cover roads and fields throughout eastern and southern Ukraine. Soldiers have posted videos of themselves tripping over wire as they trek through fields. One photographed a bird's nest made out of discarded fiber-optic cable. It isn't just a long-term environmental issue. Ukrainian soldiers say enemy troops can fly reconnaissance drones and track a line of cable back to the position from where it was launched. 'With fiber optics, it is better to launch a drone and move from the location after the operation is done," said East. 'It is far too easy to track." The introduction of fiber-optic drones has had such an impact that both sides are scrambling to increase their production while seeking to hobble each other's ability to do so. Sparrow Avia, one of the largest Ukrainian drone factories, says it is overwhelmed with orders from the military. 'Demand is colossal," said Nikolai, the director of the enterprise, whose 220 employees work from a secret location west of Kyiv. That is despite the fact that fiber-optic drones cost around double the price of normal FPV drones, which are priced at around $500. Sparrow Avia produces 12,000 fiber-optic drones a month, Nikolai said, and is working to fulfill orders placed a year in advance. 'We're not keeping up," he said. He plans to be producing 20,000 by the end of the year. In a large section of the plant, automated machines wind spools of fiber-optic cable that are then placed inside cylindrical boxes. The process is becoming more streamlined. It used to take 60 minutes to wind 15 kilometers of cable, Nikolai said—now it takes 20. Sparrow Avia is also experimenting with green fiber-optic cable that will blend into the verdant surroundings of eastern Ukraine during summer and fall. His company has invested in pioneering the production of optical cable in Ukraine, using machine tools ordered from abroad. But for now, the company's reliance on China makes it vulnerable. 'If China was to stop deliveries of this cable to us, then all fiber-optic flights in Ukraine would instantly stop," he said. Meanwhile, Ukraine is trying to level the playing field with Russia. Twice this year, it has struck Russia's only factory producing fiber-optic cable in Saransk, according to Ukrainian officials and open-source intelligence analysts. Russia hasn't confirmed the attacks. Kasianenko, the Achilles company commander, said these drones will continue to be used for specific targets ordinary drones cannot reach, paving the way for radio-controlled munitions to attack. To counter them, he and other Ukrainian commanders envision a future where fields near the front line are dotted with scissor-like devices jutting out of the ground and primed to cut through any fiber-optic cable that falls between their razors. But by that point, the technological revolution will likely have moved on with AI-guided quadcopters locking on to targets on their own and changing frequencies to ensure they are not disabled. 'All radio-controlled frequencies for most drones will eventually be completely jammed," Kasianenko said. 'Soon, auto-guidance systems will be the future." Until then, the telltale wisps of fiber-optic lines will blanket swaths of the front line, enveloping fields and devastated towns like a vast spiderweb glistening under the sun. Write to Matthew Luxmoore at
Telegraph
04-06-2025
- General
- Telegraph
Down the road of death, littered with burning vehicles and covered with drone nets,
Fermín Torrano travels into Pokrovsk, home to the most intense fighting of the war. The flames of a burning car illuminate the roadside, and Andrii puts his foot down: Seventy. Eighty. Ninety-five miles per hour. Two of his comrades lean out the windows, scanning the darkness. A fourth Ukrainian soldier rides in the truck bed, with an AKS-74U in hand. A sharp beep cuts through the air as the anti-drone system flashes on the screen: it's the second warning we've had. 'If you see a drone, jump and run after me. Forget your stuff. Understood?' Femida, a drone pilot with the 68th Ukrainian Brigade, said before we climbed into the vehicle. No one speaks now. The roar of artillery, the rush of wind through open windows, and the steady hum of the tires fill the silence. The road narrows ahead and is lined by the charred skeletons of cars that never made it through. The anti-drone nets cover just a short stretch of this route. The rest is down to luck. This is the entrance to Pokrovsk. The Telegraph entered the city to spend 24 hours with a Ukrainian unit defending what is mostly ruins. Few journalists are allowed into the most violent part of the front line at such a critical time. Ukraine is fighting tooth and nail here to prevent Moscow from taking what would be its biggest prize since capturing Bakhmut in 2023. At stake is a launchpad for Russia to push further west as part of a summer offensive that is already gaining momentum. The city itself has been all but destroyed after almost a year of fighting. The attrition rate is high, but the soldiers continue to hold on. Entering Pokrovsk 'Son of a b----!' Andrii slams on the brakes. The 4x4 stops dead on the edge of the city where an abandoned car blocks the road ahead. Andrii punches the steering wheel, then swerves and drives around the blockage to take another route. The tires kick up rubble and shards of metal as we proceed past pockmarked houses and tall apartment blocks, some caved in by Russian air strikes. What is left of Pokrovsk no longer has traffic lights or signs. The drone detector beeps again. Once. Twice. A third, after a pause. Andrii veers off the road and pulls up between two buildings. Our team is receiving live orders through the Starlink satellite uplink fixed to the roof of the pick-up. Under the canopy of some trees, two civilians grill meat. Graves have been dug in nearby gardens for neighbours with no other place to be buried. Remarkably, between 2,000 and 3,000 people still live here, less than 5 per cent of the pre-war population. Water, electricity and gas were cut off months ago. This devastated city still matters to its last weary people, many of whom have nowhere else to go. It also matters strategically, and to the military units embedded in the debris, perhaps more than ever. Once a key logistics hub for Ukrainian forces in the Donetsk region, the fall of Pokrovsk would open the gate to Dnipro and give Russian forces a path north. Its capture is a step closer to full control of Eastern Ukraine, Putin's main goal since his armoured columns were forced to retreat from Kyiv in March 2022. Five major cities still stand in the way of the conquest of Eastern Ukraine: Sloviansk, Kramatorsk, Druzhkivka, Kostiantynivka, and Pokrovsk. But all of them are now less than 14 miles from Russian-held territory. Pokrovsk's city centre is just three miles from the trenches. Relentless Russian artillery has shredded what lies between. And among the twisted concrete, small teams like ours offer their colleagues on the front line valuable cover. Entering the bunker Andrii drops us at our destination, an unremarkable building with a basement acting as a hub for drone warfare. As we arrive, our driver picks up other soldiers rotating out, away from the heat of battle. Our team moves quickly, unloading backpacks and supplies, shaking hands with their comrades. Like substitutes in a football match, three go in as three come out. This happens every four days, if conditions allow. As we enter the bunker, Femida, a big, bald former police officer from Western Ukraine, sighs, finally safe underground. 'The dictator [Putin] bombs schools, kindergartens, hospitals... I don't get how anyone can seriously talk about negotiations," he says, referring to stalled peace talks in the gilded Ottoman halls of Istanbul. "It's like a thief breaking into your house, pointing a gun at your head and saying, 'Give me your money'. And when you finally get a weapon to defend yourself, he proposes, 'Well, let's split it fifty-fifty and call it peace'.' The building we are in has several floors. Above ground, there's ammunition and a table to prepare drones. Below, a small white-brick room with old cobwebs, three cots, two drones hanging on the wall, a shelf, a stove, 15 DJI drone batteries charging and a controller dangling from a cable. Our team's mission is to fly the Mavic quadcopters that have become so central to the defence of Ukraine. These tiny drones were once an oddity in this war; now they are the war. Today alone, they will send their drone up more than 16 times, despite the rain and wind. They monitor Russian movements and drop mines and grenades over the grey zone no-man's land to stall any advance. Jamal, with the AK-47, has a patch on his arm that reads: death from above. 'We're fairly safe down here,' says Femida, wiping sweat from his brow. 'But if a KAB (laser-guided bomb) hits, that's it. We'll end up under the rubble.' We hear the boom of rockets hitting nearby, but not on our position. 'They fire a lot of Grads (Soviet missiles) now to cover a wider area. But the truth is, they don't really know where we are,' says Bandera, 22, a father of two from the safe city of Lviv in the far West of the country.. The position is part of a flank holding back the Russian push westward. If this sector falls, the city could be encircled. Summer offensive Moscow is attempting a simple pincer – advancing from both the south and the north of Pokrovsk. It has forced Ukraine to bolster its troop numbers, pull elite reinforcements from Kursk, and split logistics under constant fire. While the most pessimistic analysis predicted both Pokrovsk and neighbouring Kostiantynivka would fall before 2025, the Ukrainian flag still flies. Russia's gains since 2023 have been limited, roughly one city of 70,000 inhabitants per year. That's enough to pin down Kyiv's forces while spreading fear through bombing and death across the country. But still not sufficient to fully control Eastern Ukraine. However, Russia's advance is now accelerating at its fastest rate for months, and villages are falling by the day – one reason why Putin is in no rush to accept a ceasefire. Before the full-scale invasion began, Russia already held 30-35 per cent of the Donetsk and Luhansk regions. Today, despite making it their primary objective for three years, they control about 85 per cent. As Russia's long-awaited summer offensive gets underway, the Kremlin will soon have to decide which part of the front to prioritise. In many ways, tactics have not changed. Men are sent to their deaths with wanton disregard to gain the smallest slivers of territory. Femida lays out the grim reality of the battlefield in our small corner of the war, asking that we look at a screen in front of him. 'To reach our positions, they first have to cross a kilometre of open ground. There's no other way in,' he says, reassuringly. 'They send one with a rifle and grenades. You kill him. Ten minutes later, another. You kill him. Then a third, a fourth... You kill them all. Losing people like that is stupid.' In different positions along the front, his comrades and soldiers from other Ukrainian units also operate FPV drones, 'Vampire' quadcopters, and fibre-optic cable drones, which have added yet another dimension to the war in the skies. Together, they form a silent force that watches, penetrates, and kills around the clock. Drones and their operators are so precise that many call them the snipers of modern warfare. Yet they are still not enough to stop Moscow's Soviet-style tactics of throwing endless bodies over the top. 'For the Russians, their own people are like barrels of oil,' says Femida. 'If they have to sell them, they sell them. If they need to get rid of them, they get rid of them.' Pinned down Jamal loads the ammunition into a drone's belly and shouts for Femida to take off. With the skies under relentless watch, launching and landing a drone is when these soldiers are most at risk of giving up their location. Between missions, Jamal, 26, a shy but good humoured carpenter also from Western Ukraine, charges batteries, cooks, scrolls through his phone, and smokes. He smokes a lot. Far more than he talks. As he puffs on a cigarette, Femida keeps piloting and Bandera snores. The three soldiers take shifts to keep the system running day and night, like an assembly line operating a well-oiled killing machine. 'Many Russians surrender, too. They know that if they're wounded, they'll be used as bait. They fear being killed by their own people,' Femida says, shaking his head. According to the independent Russian outlet Mediazona, more than 109,000 Russian soldiers have been confirmed dead, as of its latest update in May. But the real toll is believed to be far higher. Moscow sustains its war effort by offering large enlistment bonuses, turning to foreign recruits, and mobilising relentlessly. Russia brings in around 40,000 new soldiers each month, compared to 25,000 on the Ukrainian side, according to president Volodymyr Zelensky. Jamal crouches to retrieve the drone as it lands again, just back from dropping another explosive into the black soil of Donetsk. But the buzz of another drone outside stops him, this time a Russian one. 'F---, the b------s!' he shouts. We won't move from our basement for several hours now. The mission to move through the city is called off. Walking in Pokrovsk is no longer safe. The weather turns foul. Rain mixes with artillery fire. A little over 24 hours inside our position, the order finally comes. Femida puts on his vest and helmet. 'It's time to move out,' he says. Exit plan Instructions from the command are clear: transfer to the meeting point and wait. Any open building will be a good refuge to take cover and avoid detection. We find one and get inside. Orange lights spill through the door. Seconds later, the detonations begin. 'That's our artillery,' Femida says with a brief smile, which vanishes as the ground shakes. More Russian Grad rockets fall into Pokrovsk. Then, an aerial bomb. Femida starts to sweat again, and my eyes are drawn to the patch on his chest: 'This heart is protected by a loved one.' It's no empty phrase. He has a wife and two children. And heart problems, too. Minutes drag on, and the silence grows heavy. No one has come. As the first hour ticks, a question hangs in the air: should we stay or turn back? With no internet and the radio off for security, we are completely cut off. Seventy-two minutes later, the horn of a skidding car breaks the silence. That's the signal. We bolt outside, jumping into the pick-up. Another man, Yariy, is now at the wheel. He wears night-vision goggles and is ready to floor it. 90... 100... 110 miles per hour. The car bounces through puddles, the anti-drone system keeps beeping. Yariy drives without fear or delay through the empty streets. A burning house lights up the night once again. Helmets bang against the roof. When he finally switches on the headlights, he turns back and smiles like a tour guide: 'Did you like the city?' Laughter fills the car. Pokrovsk holds.
Yahoo
27-02-2025
- Yahoo
Ukrainian drone operator Viktor "Saba" Stelmakh posthumously awarded Hero of Ukraine title
Junior Sergeant Viktor "Saba" Stelmakh, who became famous as one of the best UAV operators in the 68th Brigade, was posthumously awarded the title of Hero of Ukraine. Source: decree on the website of the Presidential Office Quote: "For personal courage and heroism displayed in the defence of state sovereignty and territorial integrity of Ukraine, selfless service to the Ukrainian people, I hereby decree: To award the title of Hero of Ukraine with the Order of the Golden Star to Viktor Stelmakh, Junior Sergeant (posthumously)." Background: On 18 October 2024, Junior Sergeant Viktor Stelmakh, known as "Saba", who was considered one of the best UAV operators in the brigade, was killed in action. The warrior was killed on the Pokrovsk front. Support Ukrainska Pravda on Patreon!
Yahoo
28-01-2025
- Yahoo
Russian drones swarm in Pokrovsk: up to 30 FPVs hit one position
The situation on the Pokrovsk front remains difficult, as the Russians are continuing to use the cover of fog to launch repeated attacks on Ukrainian positions. Source: the commander of the UAV platoon of the 2nd Battalion of the 68th Jaeger Brigade, who goes by the alias Furiia (Fury), during the national 24/7 newscast, as reported by Army Inform Details: The serviceman said that Russian forces have recently been using less equipment. In the area under the 68th Brigade's responsibility, the Russians are advancing primarily in small infantry groups. However, they have substantial reserves of personnel and drones. There have been cases where a single position was hit by up to 30 FPV drones. Despite this, the 68th Brigade successfully killed around 150 Russians and destroyed 280 pieces of weaponry and equipment over the past week. Quote: "I believe we are at the forefront when it comes to technology. However, the major issue is that whenever we develop something new, the occupiers manage to replicate it within two to three weeks. The problem lies in how heavily we publicise our technological advancements. As soon as we introduce something new, it's only a matter of weeks before they not only adopt it but also deploy it on a much larger scale." Support UP or become our patron!
