Russian soldiers hunted at secret drone command center in Ukraine: NPR

Near Pokrovsk, Ukraine — Soldiers guide an armored vehicle down a snowy, muddy path in a small town on the outskirts of Pokrovsk, a city in eastern Ukraine under siege by Russia. In the early winter darkness, lights flash on the horizon as both armies exchange fire.

In the driveway of a dilapidated house, two soldiers work quickly under the light of headlamps, loading weapons from a storage room into the bed of a battered truck. “They’re going to bring one of our drones to the scene,” says Yury, a 35-year-old military engineer.

For safety reasons, Yuurii refuses to be photographed and will only reveal her first name. He said he was a video game programmer before joining the Ukrainian military earlier this year. He is currently part of a drone unit supporting Ukraine’s 68th Independent Jaeger Brigade, tasked with supporting the defense of Pokrovsk.

The city, a strategic mining town and transportation hub, is partially surrounded by a much larger Russian infantry and artillery force. The fighting here began last spring and has been painful and costly for both sides. But so far, Ukrainian defenders have been able to hold out, in part due to the deadly effectiveness of Ukrainian drone pilots.

Yury’s job is to build and repair the most lethal drones that fly over the battlefield. He watched as crews hoisted two five-bladed drones, each about the size of a small lawnmower, onto a truck. “They’re not the latest technology, but they’re kind of our workhorse,” he says of the models.

The men then carefully load crude but deadly-looking homemade bombs. They resemble rusty pipes with steel fins and knuckles attached.

“We’re going to attach these to a drone and drop them tonight,” said one of the soldiers, a 34-year-old drone platoon commander who goes by the military call sign “Sonic.”

They set off in a car, and Yuri leads the way to a workshop crowded with engineers and soldiers, where these weapons are being manufactured and repaired. In one corner, a 3D printer whirred away, creating replacement parts for a damaged drone. According to Yury, the location of such drone cells along the Eastern Front is a closely guarded secret.

“If you were to reveal[our location to the Russians]please don’t because this would be a priority target,” he said.

For Ukraine, manpower shortage means increased reliance on remote warfare

Faced with a desperate manpower shortage, Ukraine is increasingly turning its attention to unmanned aerial drone units like this one, as well as ground-based remotely controlled combat vehicles. The goal is to slow the Russian advance and weaken its fighting strength while minimizing casualties for Ukrainian soldiers.

Certain metrics tell you that your strategy is working. A non-profit organization called the Institute for the Study of War (ISW) has revealed that Russia costs nearly 60 military casualties for every square kilometer of land it captures in eastern Ukraine. ISW reported that Russia may have suffered as many as 3,000 casualties in the Pokrovsk region alone during the first two weeks of this month.

A short distance away, in a villa, windows carefully covered with black plastic, operational staff at a drone command center prepare for a deadly night’s work. It’s a gritty place, like a rustic hunting camp packed with blaring computers and big flat-screen TVs.

“I watch 16 to 18 broadcasts (sent) from our drone pilots,” says the team’s officer on duty, a bearded 37-year-old man who goes by the call sign Pip. His job is to help pilots target Russian military units more quickly and efficiently.

He said his team could also help pilots working closer to the front lines work with other types of units, such as Ukrainian infantry fighting from trenches and fortifications.

“The enemy infantry approaches our position, we (soldiers) open fire with machine guns, the enemy lays down, they no longer pay attention to our drones, and we finish them off, and we Kill them,” says Pip. A tactic often used by his subordinates.

“We are trying to eliminate as many (Russians) as possible.”

Soon, the radio crackles and the pilot begins checking. Ukrainian drones carry bombs and fly over fields and abandoned farmhouses in the dark. Their cameras “see” infrared light, looking for the heat signature of a human body against the snowy ground. After a short wait, one of the pilots sent back a live video in which the Russian soldiers were clearly visible.

As the drones approached, Russian troops were seen creeping towards Ukrainian military lines, apparently unaware of the danger overhead. One of the drone’s bombs was then released and was seen falling, registering a direct hit. Light spreads on the screen. As the sun sets, the Russians lie motionless in the snow.

Pip nods, satisfied with the pilot’s accuracy. “It was close, very close,” he says. There is a short celebration in the command center before the team moves on to coordinating other attacks.

According to Pip, every time they score tonight, there will be one less Russian to threaten the Ukrainian defense. “We do this nonstop every day,” he says.

But the brutal reality is that as this war intensifies, both sides are using drones harder and more effectively. Remotely controlled planes fly hundreds of miles to target cities, military installations, and factories far from the front lines. Small, deadly drones have swarmed the frozen trenches, fields and city streets of Pokrovsk and other cities, killing Russians and Ukrainians alike.

Yury, a former video game programmer, said he believes the Ukrainian operation is smarter and more lethal than Russia’s drone fleet. He believes the force’s attacks are weakening Russia’s advances and making Russia pay a heavy price.

But he also said it was clear that remotely controlled weapons would not be enough to completely stop Russia’s much larger military.

“We are trying to eliminate as many[Russians]as possible before they reach our positions,” Yuri said. “But sometimes it’s just too much to hold on to.”

Polina Litvinova, NPR’s Ukraine field producer, contributed reporting to this story.