Russian soldiers on motorbikes speed across dirt fields, kicking up plumes of dust as artillery shells slam into the earth around them.
These kamikaze-style assaults, backed by drones overhead, have become a hallmark of Moscow’s grinding advance at the junction of Donetsk and Dnipropetrovsk oblasts.
The modern-day cavalry charges mark a shift from the early days of the full-scale invasion, when heavy armor was vital. The battlefield now is characterized by relentless rounds of drone fire, close-contact infantry fighting, and suicidal assaults. In this part of the front, both Russian and Ukrainian drones dominate the skies, turning a 10-15km (6-10 mile) zone near the zero line into a deadly kill zone.
For Ukraine, the frontline is also a constant test of endurance and ingenuity against an enemy that shows little regard for the lives of its own troops.
Under the cover of night, Drunya drives a pickup truck, loaded with fresh First-Person View (FPV) drones and explosives, towards the front to resupply an FPV bomber crew from the Unmanned Systems Battalion of Ukraine’s 110 Separate Mechanized Brigade.
A soldier rides beside him with a rifle in his hand, eyes scanning the sky, ready to shoot down incoming threats. We pass a steady stream of trucks and heavy armored vehicles, many fitted with makeshift cages and added plating, looking like a scene from a Mad Max movie.
The trucks have electronic warfare systems in the hope of protecting them from enemy drones, but the additional improvised armor has become a necessity against the constant threat from above.
“If the truck stops at any point, even for a brief moment, leave your gear and run for cover under a tree,” Drunya warns. After a certain point, the driver switches off the light and turns on his night vision goggles. This is where the enemy drones present the greatest threat.
Any mistake by the driver could mean being spotted — and hit. The route to the position is a rough dirt track, and the truck moves fast over the broken path, sending the passengers’ helmets bouncing against the ceiling.
Along the way, scorched patches of earth are still burning from a recent Russian glide bomb strike. Once we reach the position — a few kilometers from the zero line — supplies are unloaded in seconds, and we sprint for the cover of the trench.
Shortly afterwards, over the radio, we hear that the driver was ambushed by a Russian drone and only narrowly survived. The soldiers say the most nerve-racking part is always the drop-off and pickup, when the position is most exposed to attack.
In the dug-out, Bohdan is the drone pilot conducting FPV bombing missions as the Russians begin a meatgrinder-style assault, sending waves of infantry on foot across open fields in a bid to breach Ukrainian positions in nearby villages.
“Their chance of survival is near zero,” says Bohdan. “They’re here because they’re drug users, convicts, or people drowning in debt.”
Andrii sets up the range extender for Bohdan and supports coordination while Serhii grabs the FPV drone and arms the detonator above ground. Bohdan straps on his goggles and launches.
“They’re sending expendable infantry just so a Mavic drone can spot where our artillery is firing from,” Bohdan says as he guides the FPV away from the unit’s position.
Bohdan says Kyiv is properly committed to increasing drone production after the long and bloody battle for Avdiivka, which saw Russian forces take the city in February 2024. If Ukraine had access to more artillery, it wouldn’t have needed to rely as much on drones, he says.
“But the two complement each other — reconnaissance with drones, then strikes with artillery,” he says. “Artillery can hit sectors, but it can’t chase someone into a basement. Drones can’t do much in a forest, but artillery can flush people out.”
By early afternoon, Bohdan had already killed and wounded several Russian infantrymen. It is then that the Russians begin their motorcycle assaults. The mood among the soldiers shifts as they grow more alert. Bohdan pilots drone after drone without pause as the bikers keep coming.
Just five days earlier, a Russian soldier on a motorcycle breached their dugout. The troops grabbed their rifles and shot him at point-blank range.
Nearby, a reconnaissance unit’s Mavic drone provides a live video feed and spots a badly camouflaged enemy Starlink terminal, likely being used by a Russian drone unit. Bohdan flies the FPV towards it and destroys it.
On the screen, several Russian soldiers on motorcycles tear through the dirt fields, kicking up pillars of dust as they close in. “They’re about five kilometers away from us now,” Andrii says, eyes fixed on the feed. “If the stream holds, we can manage.”
Amid the swarm of Russian riders, artillery explosions ignite the fields, and smoke slowly engulfs the drone feed. From the Mavic’s view above, the landscape resembles hell, charred earth, craters, and rising plumes of fire.
Bohdan spots a Russian soldier sprinting beneath the smoke, using it as cover. As he brings the drone closer, the connection cuts in and out, but he steadies it, circling around the soldier to get a clearer view. Once the path is clear, he locks onto the target and sends the drone hurtling straight towards him.
Serhii rushes outside to prepare the next FPV drone, then returns to the dugout. Bohdan locks back onto the position where the Russian motorcycles were last spotted, while Andrii guides him toward specific streets in a nearby village. Bohdan manages to hit two soldiers. Several others scatter, some slip into houses, and others vanish into the tree line.
The hunt continues, but then the command center loses visual, possibly due to enemy jamming. Bohdan flies back to the area but eventually runs out of battery.
“We won’t be able to clear it anymore,” Andrii says of the nearby village. “If they’ve entered, then either the guys holding the position fight them off completely, or a new offensive is launched. Our assault troops will need to take it back.”Ukrainian soldiers in the village still remain in defensive positions. “The Russians will carry out a sweep — house by house,” Andrii explains. “If they come under fire, they’ll either shoot back, retreat, or die.” The Ukrainian infantry there will “either hold to the end or fall back.”
Bohdan reflects on the difference between being on the ground and directing drones from a distance:
“The emotions are completely different when you kill someone with a rifle versus doing it from afar,” he says. “When you’re hovering six kilometers away, you don’t hear their last breath or how they scream.”
Throughout the night, it’s difficult to get any rest as the position comes under constant artillery bombardment, with Russian forces launching periodic storm assaults. “They’re taking land, but at such a cost that no army can afford it,” Andrii says. (Russia is now estimated to have lost at least 220,000 men killed, and the number continues to rise without pause.)
When it’s finally time to rotate out after several days in position, the soldiers pack their gear and wait for the call over the radio. The driver arrives, and the incoming crew rushes in, tossing their supplies to the ground.
Moments later, the distinct buzz of an FPV drone cuts through the air. Every soldier scrambles, grabbing rifles, preparing to run and fire at it. But the drone passes.
Without wasting a second, they pile into the pickup truck for the drive through the kill zone, with each bend a potential ambush point.
