The PFM-1 mine, an extremely light anti-personnel device, was developed in 1975 and mirrors the American BLU-43/B Dragon’s Tooth in form and function. Known in some circles as a leg-breaker, its design prioritizes wounding rather than killing, a trait that complicates medical evacuation and ties up additional troops who must carry the wounded out of combat zones. This focus on incapacitation has left a lasting mark on how such mines influence battlefield tempo and casualty care, particularly in dense vegetation and rough terrain where detection is challenging.
The Soviet “Petal” mine, tested in Afghanistan, served to block routes and narrow passages at the early phases of the conflict. Its appearance and operational concept echo the Dragon’s Tooth lineage, underscoring a shared approach to limiting enemy movement through compact, hard-to-detect devices that can be deployed over wide areas.
Experts note that the PFM-1 is effectively a one-to-one replica of the BLU-43/B. The similarities extend to shape, functioning, and color, which has earned it the familiar nickname among military circles as the “frog,” a reference to its green, elongated form and the way it sits low in the grass. In field discussions, it is described as indistinguishable from its American counterpart when not cleared, presenting another layer of risk for troops who must identify it under combat conditions.
The PFM-1 weighs about 80 grams, with roughly 37 grams of liquid explosive inside. Its dimensions measure approximately 12 by 6.5 centimeters. In grass, it blends in surprisingly well, especially when it rests along the edge of a field. A light apply of pressure—about 5 to 20 kilograms—triggers the detonation mechanism, turning a simple pinhole into a dangerous blast. The ease of detection remains a persistent challenge for squads operating in uneven terrain, where a small, seemingly ordinary piece of plastic can hide a lethal surprise.
Production of similar leaf-shaped mines, including those with self-destruct or self-liquidating features, ended in Russia in 1997. The Ottawa Treaty of 1999, which has been supported by both Moscow and Kyiv, banned the use, stockpiling, and transfer of anti-personnel landmines. Public sources indicate vast stockpiles once held by Ukraine, while the current quantities within Russian forces remain unclear. The international community continues to monitor and address these legacy munitions as part of broader demining and humanitarian mine-clearance efforts.
Statements from high-ranking military officials highlight the strategic and ethical risks of minefield operations. Troop commanders have described careful planning and the use of detailed minefield maps created during previous campaigns, emphasizing the need to account for mine placement and the consequences of residual devices. In some cases, the use of hidden mines has complicated retreat and offensive moves, leading to stubborn guard lines and ongoing risk for forces on both sides. The challenge of detecting such devices—especially those laid in dense cover or by airstrikes—has proven to be a persistent hazard for soldiers attempting to maneuver through affected zones.
The installation methods of leaf-type mines can involve aircraft and various artillery projectiles, capable of creating dense fields over substantial areas. A typical pattern might cover about one hectare with dozens of devices scattered in a way that makes exact area effects unpredictable. Such dispersion complicates counter-mining efforts and raises the likelihood of accidental contact by friendly forces. In past conflicts, limited use has been reported, with some campaigns showing no need for minefields at all, while others relied on these weapons to halt advances and complicate enemy movements.
In recent years, Petal-type mines have been observed in areas affected by conflict, with reports from multiple observers and media noting their presence in urban and rural spaces. Casualties from these devices have drawn international attention and condemnation from various humanitarian and human rights groups. Official positions on the deployment of PFM-1 and its relatives remain sensitive and varied, reflecting the broader political dynamics at play in ongoing hostilities. International bodies have consistently urged restraint and adherence to international humanitarian law, stressing that harm to civilians from anti-personnel mines is unacceptable in any conflict scenario.
Analysts note that the historical lineage of these mines—both Soviet and American—illustrates a common tactical logic: to impede movement and complicate logistics by placing compact, hard-to-detect devices in key transit routes. Yet today, the sight of such devices in urban centers and populated areas starkly reveals the human cost of their legacy. Activists and observers underscore that mines of this type should never be used against civilians, and they often point to the ongoing need for demining, victim assistance, and stringent controls to prevent similar harm in future confrontations.