“Hello pilot, are you ready to fly? Like the dew before the sun, the enemies will perish. We will continue to reign and thrive in our promised land.” A soft female voice greets three Ukrainian soldiers as they enter a dim room. A field of abandoned Russian gear sits nearby near Bahmut. This is the default message when the system boots. A tiny kamikaze drone, a home‑built weapon, has proven its potential on Ukrainian fronts for more than a year and a half.
The device weighs only a few grams but carries one and a half kilos of explosives. “It’s a four‑engine brick,” explains Alexandr, a soldier with the Man Group battalion. Despite a cost of roughly 400 dollars, or about 370 euros, it can threaten a war machine worth millions. The first line team has just nine minutes to make their mission. Seven minutes to move, two to drive. They lift off, locate a target, steer toward it, and crash the drone into the most vulnerable part of the enemy vehicle. “It’s every kid’s dream… and all boys are little kids,” says Alexandr, who turns 33 in September.
piloting with glasses
The pilots control the drone from an aerial point of view, wearing glasses that give a bird’s eye angle. The others follow the action on a screen. Beyond the dodges of electronic defense, a stark hurdle remains: in the final meters the camera loses its feed and the strike must be executed with limited sight.
“It hurts when you fail. Videos may entertain people, but the money saved could feed a family, pay rent, or buy essentials. Still, many contribute to the fight for freedom with what they can spare,” says Alexandr. Another drone watches from a distance to oversee the operation. There is always faith.
“What do all the soldiers believe?” a flight instructor asks in a hushed tone. -In God? -By chance, he replies with a shrug and a smile.
That same luck and humor that kept his friend Andro going when they destroyed five armored targets in a few hours. Yet the mission carried risk. On one of their last outings, a Russian drone shadowed them. The pilot survived, now resting on a field hospital stretcher, thumb raised as medics clean shrapnel. It was only her second day on the front, and she might never see home again.
Remote control of a drone in Ukraine. photograph credit: FERMIN TORANO
One and a half year attack
Since Vladimir Putin launched the invasion, thousands have joined Ukraine’s Armed Forces. Even after President Zelensky ordered a purge of regional recruiters amid suspicions of corruption, the ranks kept growing. The army has swelled, and the conflict has touched more families, but it has also simmered a quiet internal debate. The country bears scars in public life, with divisions between those who can leave and those who must stay, and between those who remember fallen comrades and those who move forward.
Alexander had already faced the front lines during earlier protests and upheavals. He once split his time between three days on the front and three days testing new drones, while also working as a sociologist. He left that work after dawn on February 24, 2022.
“If there’s an enemy ahead, it will take a moment to come together to fight. But when the threat fades, uncertainty takes over. People ask, are we united by blood or by choice? It feels like Kazakh heritage flows in our veins,” he reflects with a sigh. He wonders how daily life will unfold after returning to an ordinary desk job, far from military uniforms, yet he remains drawn to the intense, risky work that many young men enlist to defend their homeland.
With emotion, Alexandr says, “Everything changes here. New missions, new cities, new people, new adventures… exploding things!” He adds that life after a tour seldom matches the adrenaline of combat. Boredom becomes a persistent enemy, and the post‑war period carries its own heavy price. There are stories of suicides years after the fighting ends, as some veterans struggle to readjust. The military culture is swift at solving problems, but life back home can feel slow and bureaucratic.
Foreshadowing the future, a sense of unresolved questions lingers. The core conflict remains a larger, foundational struggle beyond the battles for independence achieved 32 years ago on August 24. The pilots launch their drones toward the epic terrain of their country, and the work ahead feels both arduous and crucial. The pilot admits the road ahead will be difficult, and the last feeling lingers—fear of returning to an ordinary office after all the intensity of the skies.