On the battlefield, there’s always a shortage, especially of weapons. No matter how many we have, it never seems to be enough. Even an unlimited supply wouldn’t suffice. “The only thing we have enough of is sausage,” the soldiers of a special-purpose unit ‘Dnipro Shturmgevers’ from the Ukrainian Volunteer Army joke as we prepare to test new explosives for FPV drones. I barely had a chance to get properly acquainted with them. We had just arrived at their base—it was dark, the rain was pouring, and a few people were smoking on the porch. As I huddled under the eaves to stay dry, an offer came that was impossible to refuse: “Want to come with us to test new explosives?” Naturally, I agreed.
As we were driving, the guys shared the wisdom of their work. They explained that they often have to rely on homemade explosive devices, and making them correctly involves a lot of experimentation. Today’s mission was precisely that—testing homemade devices. Initially, drones in warfare were mainly used for reconnaissance, and no munitions were designed explicitly for them. Eventually, munitions were made for Mavic drones, but now the focus has shifted to FPV drones, making today’s experiment particularly relevant.
“These so-called ‘droppers’, munitions attached to a drone intended to be dropped on a target, are a very situational weapon,” says Mavrodi. “It’s good to have it as an option, but many factors need to align for it to be effective.”
“Hitting a target with a dropper from a Mavic is realistically only possible at a very steep descent,” adds Albert, who sits behind the wheel and is the team’s main alchemist. “But during the descent, you need a good radio horizon.”
“During positional warfare, using droppers is extremely difficult,” explains Mavrodi. “When a drone goes out, everyone is immediately alerted, guns are turned on, and everyone searches for it, wanting to shoot it down. However, during assault operations, soldiers have more pressing concerns. They don’t get distracted by the drone, and that’s when you can descend to a comfortable altitude and drop wherever you want.”
“But working with droppers is still more challenging than kamikaze drones,” the guys summarize. “The same effectiveness can be achieved either by the number of droppers or by their joint application with artillery – for example, herding them with drones into a pit and then dismantling them with something heavy. In the best case, everyone there is shell-shocked; in the worst case, they’ll end up in the morgues in Rostov.”
The drones used by the Dnipro Shturmgevers are funded by donors and cost approximately $500 each, in stark contrast to the $1,000 or higher price tag for a mortar shell. Furthermore, unlike mortar shells, FPV drones are high-precision weapons, and it is their significant advantage. Interestingly, FPV drones like Mavics made their transition from civilian to military use from a completely peaceful existence. Initially designed for commercial purposes, the simulator used by the team was originally conceived as a video game and first released in 2016. Today, it serves as a fully-fledged weapon, offering the most cost-effective option in terms of both price and quality.
“However, it’s important to note that any drone primarily serves as a delivery method,” explains Ficus. “It’s the operator who directs ammunition to the target. And this brings us back to the ammunition itself. The effectiveness of the strike depends heavily on the type of ammunition and the capabilities of the drone, including its payload capacity. ‘Look, the Russians have already fired three RPGs at the drone…’
“Unfortunately, the Russians have streamlined their approach,” continues Ficus. “Like us, they began with a volunteer initiative but quickly transitioned to state-sponsored production on an industrial scale, complete with CNC machines, workshops, and engineering specialists. It has posed a significant challenge for us. We need to do everything we can to keep pace.”
“I believe the only time we had an edge over Russia regarding drones was in early summer 2023,” says Mavrodi. “And even then, it was merely nominal. We had a slight advantage in the number of Mavics. Their wings are superior, yet Russians possess a far greater number of FPV drones. Essentially, we have more civilian drones while they operate multiple factories dedicated to manufacturing military drones. We’re significantly lagging behind.”
“Yet, even unlimited resources wouldn’t be enough for us. During active operations, drones are in constant use. We deploy at least a dozen per day. That’s why we have to use every available means.”
“Today, we’re testing a new type of explosive substance, which is essential as technological weaponry requires constant upgrades,” explains Ficus. “At the start of the full-scale invasion, there were numerous videos showing the dismantling of the ‘Orlan-10’. Initially mocked for their rudimentary setup using a cheap mirror camera, a fuel tank from a five-litre bottle, and a simple plastic body, these drones have since evolved significantly. They undergo constant updates in both software and hardware, much like our approach. It’s a constant race.”
“I remember being in that direction a year ago,” adds Mavrodi. “Back then, discussions revolved around antenna enhancements and long-range capabilities, not just for standard Mavics, but it all seemed distant. Now, without reinforced antennas, launching a drone is nearly impossible. Technology is advancing rapidly, and as they adopt new methods, so must we. They have a large army, and so do we. Everyone is becoming more professional, more intelligent.”
“If we simply keep assuming that our enemy is naive, we won’t win this war,” asserts Mavrodi. “We must evolve and improve. Our one advantage is Starlink. It’s critical because, without it, we wouldn’t have been able to resist them in this conflict at all.”
“Direct confrontation with Russia is futile,” adds Ficus. “That’s my personal view. Instead, our goal should be to surpass them both quantitatively and qualitatively. They are also improving in both respects, so we must strive to be more technologically advanced. Whether through developing highly efficient yet inexpensive methods or through support from our allies with newer weapon models and technologies each time, achieving this independently is exceedingly difficult.”
The journey to the shooting range turned out to be farther than expected. Though it was only about ten kilometres, which is insignificant in southern Ukraine, the night, the relentless downpour, and the deteriorated asphalt extended our travel time. Finally arriving at our destination, the rain abruptly ceased, almost on cue. Nearby, dogs barked in the darkness, but the thick veil of night made it impossible to discern even the ground beneath our feet upon exiting the vehicle.
After surveying the area and selecting a suitable spot, Albert courteously instructed everyone to enter the trench and crouch down, just in case the explosive detonated unexpectedly. Taking precautions, I crouched and opened my mouth wide to mitigate potential ear damage and closed my eyes to shield them from debris. Albert meticulously handled the newly fabricated explosive at the trench’s far end, then hurled it as far as possible before crouching down himself and commencing a countdown. There was a faint hiss or perhaps a crackle, but no explosion followed.
After a brief pause, Albert leapt out of the trench to investigate. Cautiously, I remained seated at the trench’s bottom, wary of the unexploded device. My past encounters with explosives taught me that sometimes they delay detonation as if beckoning closer. I vividly recalled our carbide experiments, which often behaved similarly. However, this time, my intuition proved incorrect. The substance within the package simply failed to detonate. Despite several attempts to rectify the issue, the team eventually conceded defeat, returned to the car, and began the journey back.
“Is it common for experiments to fail?” I ask.
“About one in a hundred attempts,” Albert replies. “This new substance I’ve never worked with before. Figured I’d test it out now. Clearly didn’t pan out.”
“There’s quite a variety of explosive substances,” Mavrodi explains. “Each one has its quirks. Maybe this one requires a really high temperature to detonate. We amateurs just grab and give it a shot.”
“Why ‘amateurs’?” Albert quips defensively. “I’m an electrician, although I’ve never actually worked in my field.” “And I trained as a designer,” adds Fikus. Mavrodi, the unit commander with an economics background, started his thesis during breaks between combat missions. He’s never practised in his field either, opting instead to hitchhike around the world and play the guitar in subway stations.
All of them are volunteers. They joined the war out of necessity, feeling they couldn’t stand aside.
“War offers a lot of interesting experiences,” muses Albert. “I can’t think of anywhere more interesting than a war zone. Where else can you assemble a three-kilo bomb and head out to a field to blow it up? Nowhere, obviously. But here, I’ve got enough to assemble twenty such bombs.”
“And get praised for it,” Mavrodi jokes.
“Anyone complaining about war is missing the point,” Albert continues. “It’s a playground for grown men, where it’s not as grim as you’d expect; quite the opposite, it’s exhilarating.”
Despite its challenges, the men believe war is highly creative work. While there are mundane tasks, innovation in weapon manufacturing, tactics invention, and military technology pushes boundaries unlike any other field.
“Even with elements invented a century ago,” adds Fikus, “the combinations can still be cutting-edge. FPV drones are a mix of Chinese and Soviet technology.”
“Why do so many people avoid military service?” I ask. “Most civilians think it’s constant trench duty under shelling, always dirty and wet,” Albert explains. “Today, even those away from the frontlines say they are tired of the stress. But this will change. Either when rockets fly through their windows, or best case, when they join us to fight the enemy. Success is simply finding one’s place in the military,” the men concluded.
“I paid for a draft deferment in 2018 to avoid joining the army because I was very afraid they would send me straight to the ATO [Anti-Terrorist Operation Zone – ed.] and I would quickly die there,” admits Fikus. “In practice, it turned out that if you choose a decent unit where people care about their own lives and the effectiveness of their work, everything will be fine.”
If someone aims to secure a favourable position, the advice from the guys is clear: waiting for a draft notice isn’t the way to go. Preparation, choice, networking, and seizing opportunities in places where skills are valued and effective work is needed are crucial. Simply showing up at the military enlistment office and saying “send me anywhere” significantly increases the likelihood of being assigned to an undesirable location.
The guys emphasize the importance of their deliberate choice to join their unit, ensuring they have no regrets. “Our leadership ensures we operate effectively with proper rest. That’s the UDA’s hallmark. We undergo regular rotations, receive good treatment, and avoid the pitfalls of a ‘paper army.'”
Moreover, how one perceives themselves in stressful situations can make a significant difference. Those viewing themselves as victims are more susceptible to PTSD, suicidal thoughts, and a pessimistic outlook. Hunters, on the other hand, encounter these issues far less frequently. Therefore, adopting a hunter’s mentality in wartime can make a world of difference in one’s well-being and outlook.
