Best unforgettable experiences are when you hit tank or artillery depots — UAV operator Andrii
When you talk to a Ukrainian soldier who has no complaints about his command, you can hardly believe your ears. That was the case during an interview with UAV operator Andrii Bobrovytskyi (call sign "Vosmyi" – "Eight") from Kyiv region. In civilian life, he worked in environmental technology, and on the second day of Russia’s full-scale invasion, he joined the Defense Forces.
Andrii is now being demobilized because he became the sole guardian of his underage child after the death of his ex-wife, so he’s slowly piecing together his memories and experiences. At his request, we are not disclosing the name of the unit in which he served.
THE HARDEST COMBAT EXPERIENCE I HAD WAS IN MAKARIV
- As far as I know, before joining the army, you were basically acting like a partisan in the Kyiv region. Is that true?
- Not exactly. My combat journey began in Makariv. On the second day of the full-scale invasion, I sent my girlfriend abroad, packed a backpack, and went to the local Territorial Defense Forces (TDF). It was a conscious decision — I was determined to help stop the absolute f#cking madness that had begun. I’m not originally from Makariv, but I happened to be there at the time. I vividly remember running into two young guys on the street and asking where I could sign up for the TDF. They looked at me and said, "Are you nuts? They’re not even handing out rifles. The draft office has scattered." In short, they weren’t planning to fight. Makariv was already under shelling. I eventually found where to enlist in the TDF, but they were very suspicious of me because I wasn’t local. They told me they wouldn’t give me a weapon, but they’d assign me tasks. So I just pulled shifts: sitting by the window watching the street, or helping chop wood in the kitchen.
On my very first day with the TDF, I saw a convoy of Russian military vehicles roll through Makariv. They didn’t stop in the town, and no one tried to block them, so in that sense, Makariv got lucky. The convoy was destroyed on the Zhytomyr highway. Later, more experienced fighters told me that engaging a convoy like that inside a town is a mistake — it leads to the destruction and occupation of cities. The key strategy is to draw them out into open terrain, away from populated areas.
When the bombing of Makariv intensified, I pulled guard duty on the town’s outskirts, we were surrounded by enemy units. A shell hit the school where we were stationed, so we moved to a nearby farm. Around that time, reinforcements from the National Guard and the Armed Forces arrived, and I was finally issued a weapon. That period was my most difficult combat experience. There were many killed, and almost no clarity — communication between units was practically nonexistent. When we expected an assault, unarmed people sat beside those with rifles, ready to replace them in the event of their death. Everything was extremely chaotic in terms of organization. Former ATO (Anti-Terrorist Operation) soldiers took command, because everyone who was supposed to lead — military and civilian administrators, police — had fled. Later, after Makariv was liberated and those officials returned, they started dropping hints about troubles, as if we in the TDF had been using weapons illegally.
- Then you joined the UAV unit?
- After Makariv was liberated, I started asking around — who had joined which unit, which branch of the military. I couldn't get into the unit my friend had joined, so I called an old buddy of mine, a veteran from the ATO. That’s how I ended up in a unit that specialized in aerial reconnaissance. We officially became a military unit in May (unit A4105), operating under the Ministry of Defense. Initially, we were supposed to be testing reconnaissance equipment, not engaging in combat. Eventually, we really were tasked with testing new gear entering service in the Armed Forces. But nobody liked that kind of work — it wasn’t combat.
I spent most of my time adjusting artillery fire. Before the liberation of Kherson, we worked along the Mykolaiv direction — around Kyselivka and Myrne.
We were stationed in Mykolaiv itself, living in a dormitory that was bombed every night (like the rest of the city). At first, I didn’t go on missions myself — I was gaining experience. I started going on missions as a signalman, providing communications for drone operators. Basically, I was sitting on Starlink. In fact, a UAV crew always includes more than just the operator — there’s cover personnel, drivers, and others.
- Had you worked with UAVs before?
- No, not at all. All my training happened in combat. I was in charge of comms and coordination with all, including finding artillery units ready to fire on targets our guys had identified. Later, I started going out as a spotter, holding the video feed controller. The main task was to read maps and orient myself very quickly. Over time, whenever we worked with UAVs, I took on this function.
- It’s worth reminding that a UAV crew is never just one person…
- No matter what kind of drone you're working with — whether it's a small Mavic or a larger UAV — there’s always a team involved. The spotter’s main job is to read maps and quickly guide the operator on where they are. That role is always essential, whether the operator’s flying a tiny kamikaze drone or a large reconnaissance UAV.
- You brought this nuance up — was it because there have been problems?
- Many people learn to operate UAVs, only to find out later that they suffer from a complete lack of sense of direction. They can handle the drone just fine, but once they're deployed into unfamiliar terrain during combat, they start losing aircraft left and right. In the end, they can lose everything just because the video feed cut out for 20 seconds — and in that time, the drone ends up over unfamiliar ground, and the operator can’t figure out where to fly next.
There’s a clear contrast between how civilians perceive UAV crew operations and how things actually work in the field. Very often, the crew consists of two people, including a navigator-spotter who has a strong grasp of the terrain. If such a person is present, that’s the ideal setup.
For me, there’s a great comparison with sniper teams. They operate in pairs: one pulls the trigger, and the other acts as the spotter. And it’s usually the spotter who is more experienced — he’s the one giving corrections and instructions to the shooter. It’s the same with UAV crews: a successful strike against enemy personnel or equipment is always a result of joint work. And when the number of drones increases, the crew composition often expands as well — sometimes two full crews work in coordination against a single target.
IN 2022, SPEED AND HORIZONTAL CONNECTIONS HELPED US WIN
- Describe your first memories and emotions of working directly near the front line.
- We were still in the Mykolaiv region then — around Ternovi Pody, Barvinok, Krutyi Yar. There was a water pumping station there, and it was constantly under assault. We worked every other day, and honestly, that was pretty humane — because if you're doing ten-hour shifts every single day, especially in good weather, everything just starts to blur in your head. I was a private, and I’m still demobilizing as a private. At the time, I got really interested in military stuff, I’d even watch some of those b#stards` interviews on YouTube, to study the enemy. For me, it seemed very pleasant and valuable for my ego, the interview with a Russian general, to understand how great our army is. The journalist asks him: "Is it true that in the Ukrainian army, even a senior sergeant can adjust artillery and call in fire?" And the general replies: "Yes, that’s one of the shortcomings — in the Russian army, only officers are allowed to adjust artillery." And I’m sitting there thinking: Man, I’m not even a sergeant — just a regular soldier with no military background — and I’m out here doing effective fire adjustment in the field.
Back then, the Russian army operated like this: something would be spotted, the info was sent up to headquarters, then intel from HQ would report the target, and only after that would it reach the artillery. Now, they've simplified that process, which made them faster and more effective at striking targets. In our army, paradoxically, things got more complicated. In 2022, we were winning thanks to speed and horizontal connections. Two privates from a drone crew could directly adjust a target, and artillery would fire on it within five minutes. There was a lot of unaccounted-for ammo in the artillery and that’s what saved us. When the army was basically half self-governed during that first year, it actually worked great.
Then came live streaming, and it ended up taking the job away from a lot of spotters.
- You moved to the Kherson region after those territories were liberated. Were you doing similar work there?
- Yeah, pretty much. Over the two and a half years I served, we were always working in the south. That turned out to be a big advantage — we knew the terrain really well. It saved a lot of our drones. We were lucky to have a good field commander in 2022, 2023, and part of 2024. Because if you're constantly being moved to new locations every week or month, the chances of losing aircraft — or screwing up the mission — go way up. Unfortunately, that kind of chaos has become much more common lately.
- What kind of targets did you usually direct artillery at? And how would you rate your effectiveness?
- We mostly worked against enemy vehicles and equipment. Our job was tightly connected to how well the artillery performed. If they hit based on our coordinates — great. But artillery effectiveness depends on a bunch of factors, including the barrels and powder they have.
The good thing is, even if a shell lands near the target, it still makes a difference. That’s the essence of counter-battery warfare: when our guns fire on theirs — even if it’s not super precise — they either back off or stop shooting. Of course, the best unforgettable experiences are when you hit tank or artillery depots together with the artillery.
- What about the effectiveness of manpower preservation?
- We had no KIAs (Killed in Action), thanks to our commander. We were attached to the 59th Brigade. There was basically no time off, but there was also no burnout like in many other units. We worked every other day, and that made a big difference.
THERE ARE PLENTY OF SITUATIONS WHERE IT’S BETTER NOT TO FLY AND SAVE THE DRONE THAN TO LOSE IT FOR 100%
- What kinds of drones have you worked with, including Ukrainian ones?
- At first, most of the UAVs we used were just regular sports-model planes. There were truly wild devices. For example, a so-called "Cow," for example — a big UAV that could carry up to 20 kilograms of payload. It had a wingspan of up to three meters and was literally held together with duct tape, foam, and plywood. But it flew — and it carried heavy loads. It was mainly used for bombing tree lines because it wasn’t accurate. And back then, we didn’t yet have problems with GPS jamming.
From the cheaper Ukrainian-made models, I really liked flying the Valkyrie. It’s a pretty solid photo reconnaissance drone, although it's gotten a bit outdated lately. We did a lot of work with it. Among the drones I haven’t personally flown but that our team has used, the Sych has performed well — it works both as a recon platform and as a light bomber. And from the budget photo drones, R Wings is one I consider solid.
- Did you do any amateurish payload drops, like what’s often practiced in our army?
- Our unit command prohibited us from using Mavics for payload drops, because in our case, it was completely ineffective — and expensive.
You take a drone that costs $4,000, strap a payload to it, fly it somewhere, and maybe end up wounding one Russian. Meanwhile, that same drone could’ve been used to adjust artillery fire on enemy equipment and we usually had decent artillery working nearby. Second, every time you do a payload drop, the chances of losing the drone go up. So if you’re out of drones tomorrow because yesterday you lost the last one during payload drop, that’s just not smart.
- So if there’s no artillery nearby, then drops make sense — but if there is, better to use the Mavic for recon?
- I think it comes down to intent. If you really want to, you can always find artillery willing to work with you.
- What about drones specifically designed for payload drops?
- Our team used the R18, which is built exactly for that — for bombing. When we first got the R18, we burned down a few enemy fortifications, but later we stopped using it because enemy electronic warfare started jamming our drones hard. The chances of losing the drone under that kind of jamming were close to 100%, so we handed our R18 over to another unit. There are plenty of situations where it’s better not to launch and save the gear and wait for the right moment, than to fly and lose everything.
- And as far as I know, your command also forbade you from recovering lost drones?
- Yeah, only the most desperate ones would go after a lost UAV, even though the commander strictly forbade it. His top priority was making sure no one got killed.
- These days, drone manufacturers in Ukraine are producing and testing all kinds of models for every possible need. Do you have any personal preferences?
- I’m all about honesty and efficiency. A lot of modern drones made in Ukraine come with a price tag of 800,000 hryvnias, but they’re just not worth that much. In fact, we should be producing more of them, not making them more expensive.
But, as always, when there’s a chance to make money, certain characters show up and start producing for the Armed Forces at inflated prices. When you break those drones down into parts, they’re worth maybe 100–200 thousand tops — but they sell for 800. And I get it: if the pricing were fair, we’d have more of these UAVs in the field — and the military’s effectiveness would go up as a result.
- For example?
- There’s the "Chaklun" and there’s the "Darts" loitering munition. In terms of specifications, I consider the Darts significantly more capable than the "Chaklun". It can carry a heavier payload, has greater range, and features homing capabilities. During the time we’ve used it, the "Darts" has improved rapidly, and the developers have been highly responsive to operator feedback. Most other developers, by contrast, tend to reject feedback and blame operators when drones are lost.
The "Chaklun" costs 240,000 hryvnias, while the "Darts" costs 40,000. Just to be clear, we’re talking about kamikaze drones, they are one-way drones. The "Darts", which is both cheaper and more effective, is bought by volunteers; the Chaklun, however, is officially procured by the Ministry of Defense. In the first case, people are genuinely trying to create affordable, high-quality weapons that help us strike the enemy and win.
- How would you assess the performance of Ukrainian electronic warfare? How effective was it against enemy drones, and how much did it interfere with our own?
- Our electronic warfare systems were constantly jamming. They’re positioned on our side of the front line, typically behind UAV operators. The Russians have a similar setup, but due to their more centralized command structure, they may be able to selectively avoid jamming certain frequencies used by their own units. Exploiting frequencies that aren’t being jammed by friendly EW systems — even if they belong to the enemy — is standard practice on both sides.
It’s just like with artillery. Back when we were operating in the Mykolaiv region, the ammo and artillery ratio was about 1 to 10. If we fired 0 shells at them, we’d still get 100 flying back at us. It’s the same situation with EW — what matters is the density of coverage, the quality of the jamming, and how many units are involved in the process.
It’s also important to distinguish between electronic warfare and signals intelligence (SIGINT). In most aspects, we’re losing in both. That said, Ukraine has a fairly strong SIGINT capability — or at least, that was the case about four months ago. Especially considering that the Russians have significantly greater numbers, a wealthier military, and far superior support. Throughout 2023 and 2024, we were fully coordinated and knew exactly what was flying over us and when.
I NEVER TURNED DOWN THE ROUTINE TASKS THAT STILL HAD TO BE DONE
- Did you receive the Cross of Valor for a specific operation or for your entire service?
- It was for all the work we did — operating in tough conditions, in places where others didn’t want to go.
- Did others refuse?
- Not exactly. They didn’t refuse, but they'd say things like: "It’s too dangerous to fly from that position" — either it was too close to the enemy or just the kind of job that calls as grunt work and tries to avoid. Still, there’s a lot of routine work that has to be done. Bluntly speaking, someone needs to constantly monitor the opposite bank of the Dnipro. It’s not exciting work — you just sit there in the middle of the night staring at a screen. But if a single enemy boat shows up overnight and we manage to hit it — that’s already a win.
- How do you explain why you agreed to do the tasks others didn’t want?
- I just had a strong drive to work and make that work matter. There’s a lot of routine stuff that still needs to get done.
- And you're still a private? In two and a half years of war, you never wanted to move up?
- I was comfortable as the higher you go, the more bureaucratic nonsense you have to deal with.
- How did you deal with fear? Because fear is there, even in routine situations.
- Sometimes it was terrifying where there was no real danger — I’d just randomly get hit with panic. And sometimes, in situations where you really should be afraid, you weren’t, just because everyone around was chill. We’d just sit there while everything around us was getting shelled, hoping our dugout wouldn’t get hit. Or you’d see in the group chat that a GAB (guided aerial bomb) was headed our way — and when you finally heard it overhead, you’d feel relieved, because it meant it hadn’t hit you.
How do you overcome fear? The main thing is overcoming it on the way to the mission, just getting yourself out. After that, you’re already in it, and you deal with it..
Olha Skorokhod, Censor. NET
