As a Russian soldier slips out from the tree line, a Ukrainian reconnaissance drone detects movement, zooms in, and an enemy vehicle appears on the operator’s screen.
Heorhii Volkov, commander of Yasni Ochi (Clear Eyes), a drone unit with 13 Khartiia Brigade, orders a strike. A drone, equipped with AI targeting, launches about 20km (12 miles) from the target, and a red marker bounces on the screen as it closes in.
The link is spotty, but the target lock is not. The system zeros in on the vehicle, and the strike drone dives. Follow-on drones then confirm the hit and clear the area.
That sequence: detection, AI identification, long-range strike, and follow-up, captures the way some units now fight as the war’s relentless race for better technology rages on.
“Right now we mostly work along what I’d call the middle line — not quite a deep strike, but not the frontline either,” Volkov says. The unit’s mission is to disrupt logistics and deny Russian formations the ability to mass and fight.
“Technology has advanced very quickly from a year ago, reshaping the battlefield,” Volkov says. “There are far more drones now – reconnaissance types, optical-fiber systems, and strike platforms – and Ukraine’s ‘drone wall’ is much stronger and more stable than a year ago.”
His unit’s immediate edge comes from a new drone that pairs advanced communications with AI-enabled targeting. And it’s making a difference.
As soon as Ukrainian forces were able to strike 30–40km behind enemy lines, Russian artillery fire dropped off as the networks essential for it to function were broken, Volkov says.
“We attack their entire logistical chain – the trucks moving shells and crews, the people providing air-defense cover — not just the guns themselves,” he says. “Artillery can only work if all of its supporting elements work.”
In daily operations, the unit centers on targets of 20–30km behind the frontline, but it can hit targets up to 60km away when needed. Volkov describes 20km as the most stable, predictable range for strike drones. Anything more than 30km is possible but requires low winds, light payloads and near-perfect batteries.
“If there’s strong headwind, a drone simply won’t have enough power to reach 35–38 km,” he says. Teams launch around the clock, responding to objectives from headquarters or proposing targets themselves.
Tactically, the brigade’s geography shapes its options. Armored columns rarely approach closer than 6–7km from the line of battle, and enemy infantry often moves in small cells of two or three soldiers over 3–5 km, using deep dugouts, tunnels, and forest cover. Motorcycles and quad bikes are now the norm and harder to detect.
Despite the unit being close to the Russian border, its reconnaissance aircraft rarely cross into Russian airspace, as Belgorod’s air defenses are fierce. Operators often spot targets only once they are already within reach, shortening the time to react.
For drone operators, getting into position to launch and guide the aircraft is itself a dangerous task. “The enemy constantly has drones in the air, so vehicles can be spotted and destroyed,” says Yevhen, a drone pilot. “Supplies are dropped some distance from our positions, and then we walk 5–7 km depending on the situation. Sometimes we carry equipment or food; sometimes we go light.”
“Ground robotic systems can deliver supplies directly, but there aren’t enough of them yet. If we had more, life and work would be much easier — not only for drone teams but for infantry too. It saves lives.”
On the screen during a strike, AI markers and automatic target cues can accelerate crew decisions, especially when human operators are working with degraded links.
“These are not just drones but platforms built on AI and advanced communications technology,” Volkov says. “They could also be adapted for fixed-wing aircraft or ground robots.”
Volkov cautions, however, that AI-assisted targeting often fails in cluttered environments. Trees can confuse algorithms, and puddles reflecting metallic glints are sometimes misidentified as vehicles, meaning human operators have to double-check automatic target locks.
While commanders and operators wait for AI-enabled systems to be refined, it is simpler fiber-optic drones that continue to dominate the battlefield, as they have since late last year.
And it is still very hard to eliminate fortified enemy artillery positions. Crews camouflage guns with netting, branches, and logs, and barrels are often lowered and buried when not firing, Volkov says, which is why targeting the logistics chain is often more effective.
The shift from improvised to institutionalized drone warfare has been dramatic. Volkov recalls missions in early 2022 using made-for-consumer Mavic drones and a handful of spare batteries. Footage was recorded to memory cards and then ferried, sometimes by hand, to a computer for analysis.
Today, Starlink terminals stream and decrypt live video in real time, and a single position can host six to eight drones with 40–50 spare batteries and operate at ranges of 10–14 km.
The operational effect is stark. Two years ago, drones accounted for roughly 10% of strikes; now Volkov estimates drones conduct about 70% of strikes, and artillery has fallen to roughly 10–15%. Drones are cheaper, more precise, and less dependent on scarce artillery munitions – a decisive factor in a logistics-starved war of attrition.
But while the boom in Ukrainian volunteer and commercial drone production has driven innovation, it has a downside, which is fragmentation and “slow consolidation,” Volkov says.
He wants clearer standards, better integration and faster decision-making so manufacturers produce interoperable systems the army can use now, not months later. His priority is cheaper, modular drones that are easy to train on and quick to replace, backed by standardized manufacturing, training pipelines, and field-swappable hardware.
He also warns against overstating Ukraine’s technological lead, and emphasizes that Russia is innovating too, as ideas and countermeasures propagate rapidly. “I don’t see a decisive technological gap; there’s rough parity,” he says.
Ukraine’s edge lies in managerial speed and willingness to iterate quickly, he says, while Russia’s lies in quantity and scale. That dynamic means any advantage is likely to be short-lived unless it is rapidly institutionalized and scaled.
David Kirichenko
David Kirichenko and Parilov (via Shutterstock)
Previously published by CEPA (Center for European Policy Analysis) and reprinted with permission of David Kirichenko.