Paratrooper Oleksandr Nykolaiko: "War will be won by "nerds", IT specialists. They are ones who can turn tide of events"

Author: Violetta Kirtoka

This man has served in the Armed Forces of Ukraine since 2008 and has been with the 80th Brigade since 2013. He took part in the formation of the 3rd Battalion Tactical Group in 2014, which, following the launch of the full-scale invasion, expanded into the now-legendary 82nd Brigade. Oleksandr left the unit several times, but whenever there was a need for him, he returned — despite suffering severe concussions and spinal problems.

For halting columns of enemy equipment, repeatedly rescuing fellow soldiers, and adjusting artillery fire from the highest towers, Oleksandr Mykolaiko has been nominated for Ukraine’s highest non-governmental award, the "People’s Hero of Ukraine".

Kursk region

When asked why he uses the call sign "Prometheus," Oleksandr laughs, looks a little embarrassed, but still explains: "Because I bring fire to the enemy." For more than a year, he has been working exclusively with unmanned systems, employing every possible method within his unit to strike the enemy from the air and, in doing so, preserve the lives of soldiers in the trenches.

- "I am now an officer of the unmanned systems section," Prometheus says. "We make extensive use of drones, across almost all directions. It doesn't matter what the target is — we will find a way to take it out."

For many years, I served in sergeant positions: first as the platoon’s senior sergeant, then as the company’s senior sergeant. Later, I became the battalion senior sergeant for the 3rd BTG (Battalion Tactical Group - ed. note). In the 82nd Brigade, I held the position of brigade senior sergeant. When Colonel Pavlo Ivanovych Rozlach, the brigade commander in 2023, moved to serve in the Air Assault Forces Command, I resigned. I spent some time at home, undergoing treatment. Then, in the middle of the night, Pavlo Ivanovych called me: "I need you."

- We need to go "abroad"...

- Exactly. The next morning, within two hours, I completed all the paperwork at the TCR (Territorial Center of Recruitment and Social Support - ed. note) and arrived at the 80th Brigade — four hours before the start of the operation in the Kursk region.

- Did you know what kind of operation was being planned?

- Pavlo Ivanovych explained it to me. Or rather, he hinted, but I understood everything. He said: "An operation similar to the one in the Kharkiv direction is being planned, only from the other side." After 16 years in the army, I immediately concluded that it would be a raid behind enemy lines.

In August 2024, I asked my wife for permission to rejoin the army for three months. I said: "I’ll serve a little, and then come back home." I had my own plans, but I couldn't miss something like this. Those three months have long since passed...

- How did you feel about the idea of bringing the war onto enemy territory, considering that we already have a huge front line within our own country?

- I was talking about this back in 2014. Something like this should have been done even then. After the incursion into the Kursk region, we achieved a lot: we seized territories, captured POWs, showed the whole world that Russia is not as well-protected as it claims, and pulled the bulk of their forces, about 50–60 thousand personnel, onto ourselves. Conscripts, "Akhmat" units, border guards — there were many such formations here. And many officers as well — lieutenant colonels, majors, captains. These were not just some mobilized troops from the so-called "DNR" (Donetsk People's Republic - ed. note) and "LNR" (Luhansk People's Republic - ed. note) that nobody really cares about.

In the photo: Oleksandr, call sign Prometheus, far left. Second from left - Pavlo Rozlach

Entering enemy territory, I’ll be honest, was a bit frightening. You had to overcome yourself... The soldiers hesitated too. Fear is always there. I remember the Kharkiv operation, when we penetrated the enemy’s rear. You walk forward and have no idea what’s mined and what’s not, you don't know how many of them there are, or where they might ambush you... It was the same here. Later, it becomes clear: it's ok, we can push them back. It actually turned out to be easier than in Donbas, because here they didn’t have the same fortifications and defensive lines. But they still put up strong resistance. To say they flee... Some fled, but those who stayed put up resistance.. Every day, we saw how they would shoot themselves in the head or cut their own throats to avoid being captured. Zombies... They simply had no options left. They knew: if they tried to retreat, their own would kill them; if they resisted, we would kill them. Their only way out was to surrender. That’s why we captured them by the hundreds in the first days. They weren’t as afraid of us as they were of punishment from their own side. But some of them feared that punishment even more than death.

The territory of the Russian Federation is a cursed land, that’s clear. But it’s much more satisfying for me to deliver fire damage and burn the enemy on their own soil, rather than on ours, which has been terribly battered over the course of the war. It's better to eliminate the enemy on their own territory. Some units, like the 810th Brigade, for example, we completely routed. They had to be pulled out for recovery and then sent back against us again.

It’s better to push the war onto enemy territory and hold certain lines there, inflicting losses there, rather than staying here in Sumy, beyond Sumy. After that, it's Chernihiv, Kyiv... And if anyone thinks that Western Ukraine is safe, I understand that the war could reach there too.

The Russians’ first plan was very simple. We stopped them in Mykolaiv, but their original plans included Odesa, Transnistria, and Moldova. That would have brought the war straight to western Ukraine, right up to almost all of the Chernivtsi region!

- By the time we entered the Kursk region, had the brigade already developed its unmanned systems operations?

- Yes. They had already proven their effectiveness in Chasiv Yar. There, through payload drops, they eliminated enemy forces, preventing them from even reaching the brigade’s positions. The unmanned systems structure was built very efficiently. Now I see that every assault group must work in coordination with drone pilots. For example, a ten-man group conducts an assault — they must be supported from the air by a drone crew that can observe what’s happening ahead, drop ordnance if necessary, and transmit coordinates. If the crew can provide a live feed, it's even better. It allows us to strike not only enemy infantry but also enemy artillery targeting our assault troops. Each battalion has an FPV crew; some have two or three, and more operators are still being trained. Because operators, unfortunately, are also taken out. Guys get injured or killed. It's extremely difficult when you lose a crew — you can no longer cover three tree line zones at once. Fewer aerial assets mean it becomes harder for the infantry. You can miss enemy movements or actions. And then there’s the weather: rain, frost, night, day... In the rain and cold, almost nothing flies. But we’ve learned to launch Mavics even in the rain. We know we'll lose them, but we still launch because, for example, the infantry reports hearing enemy vehicles moving or enemy shelling, and something must be done. A drone can go up just once, and at least we’ll understand how many enemy forces there are and where to direct fire. We know we’ll lose the Mavic, but a soldier’s life is worth more than any equipment, any robot. By the way, FPV drones can also be used for reconnaissance — they’re not just one-way kamikaze drones. You fly low, close to the ground, and you can see everything.

- Do you think drone warfare will continue? Is this what will save the lives of our soldiers?

- Our electronic warfare systems and drones are doing more than any infantryman. For example, a single FPV drone operator kills more enemy troops in a month than an entire unit does in a conventional firefight. A pilot can carry out 30–40 sorties per day, striking one or two targets at a time and sometimes hitting bunkers where five or even ten enemies are located. An FPV operator causes more losses than an infantryman.

- But soldiers still have to hold the positions. Nothing new has been invented here...

- It is possible to organize everything in a way that allows the infantry to fight while preserving as much manpower as possible. They can stay in cover while combat operations are conducted remotely by unmanned systems operators. However, there’s another problem. GABs (guided aerial bombs - ed. note) and FABs (high-explosive aerial bombs - ed. note)  hit like it’s nothing. Sometimes they fire into a tree line where only two people are located — an FPV operator and a driver — and yet three GABs are dropped there!

I communicate with all the top brigades that are successful in developing various unmanned technologies. We exchange experience. Sometimes we seek their advice; in other cases, they ask us to share our expertise. There are special units that use remote mine-laying systems. This keeps the enemy on edge, because in such cases, they often don’t even reach the line from which they would launch their attack — they are eliminated before that. We have highly developed electronic warfare capabilities, effective artillerymen who can see everything and know how to adjust fire, quickly planning how to deploy assets not just to shoot blindly into a field, but to precisely dismantle enemy positions and hit shelters directly. To achieve this, everything must be seen from the air.

LUHANSK AIRPORT

In 2014, Oleksandr took part in the liberation of the city of Shchastia, and later of Vesela Hora. He also fought at the Luhansk airport.
"There's about half a page written about me in the book In the Ring of Fire," the man says with a smile. "It’s a book about the battle for Luhansk airport."

- There is less known about it compared to the Donetsk airport.

- "We broke through to the airport, it was July", Oleksandr says. – That’s when I personally witnessed the Il-76 with the 25th Brigade on board being shot down. When we entered the airport, the 25th Brigade was arriving in three planes. One aircraft landed and unloaded, the second was hit, and the third turned around and flew away. I saw those planes. After that, nothing else managed to land there.

We had about twenty kilometers left to reach the airport, and we were fighting our way there. It took about seven days to create the "corridor of life." Inside the airport, we were constantly under fire... It was easier to count the moments of silence. Half an hour of quiet while ammunition was being delivered — and then they would start shelling us again.

There, I saw our Su aircraft being shot down. After that, we conducted search operations to find our downed pilots, who had been moving toward enemy-held territory...

At that time, we had serious problems with the delivery of essential supplies because supply convoys rarely made it through. And when they did arrive, shelling would immediately begin. I never thought a can of stewed meat could be dangerous! Once they brought in supplies, and during an attack, everything caught fire — and the cans started exploding and flying everywhere, even punching through brick walls. They were mixed together with mines, too, because everything — mines, canned goods, rations — was loaded all at once. I didn’t suffer much from the lack of food. I had one advantage: we would go on reconnaissance missions into the grey zone and, along the way, quickly grab tomatoes, watermelons, whatever we could find in the fields....

We maintained a perimeter defense around the airport. The biggest problem was drinking water. We didn’t crave food as much as we craved water because it was extremely hot at the time. When we drove enemy sabotage and reconnaissance groups (SRGs - ed.note) out of the airport, they had drained aviation fuel everywhere, even into the firefighting reservoirs. That became a huge problem. We drank that water, filtering it for two or three days through gauze and whatever improvised means we had. Even now, sometimes, I can still remember that taste... When it rained, it was a blessing — we would collect rainwater — but there wasn’t much rain.

- Back then, there were no water purification tablets...

- There was nothing at all.

- Where did you get the gauze?

- We had a medical post and a dressing station, and we even set up an operating room in the bunker. There was a nuclear bunker there.
At that time, the defense of the airport was commanded by General Kovalchuk. At first, the bunker was more or less a decent shelter. Later, it cracked... The nuclear bunker couldn’t withstand the pressure because "Tulips," "Pions" — all types of artillery were used against us, burning everything around us. Every type of ammunition Russia had in service at the time was used against us. My position was on the roof of the new terminal. By August, you could see all the way down to the basement — everything was blown through.

- How did you withdraw from there?

- On August 31, a tank column, up to 50 tanks, advanced on us. They started surrounding us from all sides, using tanks to tear apart everything around. We still held the line. The wounded were evacuated by vehicles, and the others withdrew on foot over two days — everyone made their way out however they could. At first, we covered the withdrawal of others; then the last group withdrew from the airport.

I withdrew earlier, I evacuated a wounded soldier and left. I was supposed to go on leave starting on the 30th... I even managed to pick up another wounded soldier from Pobieda hospital in Chernivtsi — volunteers were heading there and gave us a ride. We left — and soon after, the hospital was hit by a multiple rocket launcher system (MLRS - ed.note). Ten days later, I returned to the Luhansk region.

The "lightest" way to get out of the airport was as a WIA (wounded in action - ed.note). We had no mobile signal at all back then. But on the roof, text messages would sometimes come through. Back then, we still had button phones — they held a charge for a long time. Once a day, you could maybe catch a signal and send a message to your parents saying you were alive. Brothers-in-arms would also ask to pass along a message to their families that they were okay. Every few days, a connection might appear for a couple of hours — then we’d each get a few seconds to speak to our loved ones.

I keep remembering a funny story about two soldiers from an attached unit who tried to sneak out. They were stationed far from the airport and refused to go there. Then one day, a truck carrying ammunition arrived. The artillerymen were unloading shells from it, and the empty casings were being collected. The two guys overheard that the truck was supposed to head back to Kharkiv — so they crawled under the tarp and hid. But the truck had one more stop before heading back — the airport. So the vehicle rolls into the airport, and I’m sitting on the roof, smoking.
We had to unload the truck fast before the enemy started shelling. They open the tarp — and there they are, sitting there like a couple of geniuses, asking: "Is this Kharkiv?" "Sure," I said, "Welcome to Kharkiv. Now get out — there’s going to be shelling any second." (laughs)
And just like that, they ended up at the airport after all.

After Luhansk airport, we entered Stanytsia Luhanska. There were occasional firefights across the river. Of course, shelling also happened from time to time. But overall, it could be described as relatively calm. Later, we were deployed to Shyrokyne — attached to the 79th Brigade.
There, everything started again: firefights, tanks rolling out, artillery shelling, even anti-tank guided missiles (ATGMs) coming our way.

When we arrived, Shyrokyne had already been retaken by the marines. We rotated in to replace them. We moved in during the fall. Winter by the sea... that’s something else. I was the battalion’s senior sergeant, constantly moving between positions — spending two days with one group of guys, then moving on to another. I’d grab my small backpack and set off. I remember once searching for a position during a blizzard — the wind blowing in from the sea was so strong you couldn’t see anything. It felt like walking across an open field. The most important thing was to stay on the path, because on either side everything was mined.

- And how do you find the path in a blizzard?

- The guide who came out to meet me would walk along his own tracks but kept saying, "We have to move faster — the snow’s covering them up."

Back then, in winter, I always thought to myself: "If only I could get to the sea in summer!" But for the next rotation, we ended up in Kherson — we arrived in November and were replaced in March. Not once did I get to be by the sea in summer!

Our next rotation was in Stanytsia Luhanska — that was in 2020–2021. During that time, there was sniper fire once or twice. Other than that — it was quiet.

KHERSON AND MYKOLAIV REGIONS

- Please tell me, as a person who has been in the army for a long time: back in 2008, did you understand that there would be a war with Russia?

- We were never really preparing for that... In our training exercises, the potential enemy was NATO countries — Poland, Romania... Honestly, I was convinced that the army wouldn’t be a long chapter in my life. By the time the war started in 2014, my contract was about to end. I was thinking of getting out. But the war broke out — so I stayed. Now it’s my eleventh year fighting...

- Where are you from?

- From the city of Sokyriany, Chernivtsi region.

- The majority of people there have always understood that the Russians are the enemy.

- For me, Muscovites have been the enemy since childhood.

My great-grandfather fought in World War II, and he didn’t like them either. He was an officer and finished the war after his fourth injury. He used to tell us a lot of stories and teach us: we would throw grenades together, carve wooden rifles... He had a greatcoat and medals — he would put them on when he went to the parade. I remember once asking him at a parade, "Grandpa, why is everyone laughing and you’re crying?" He answered, "There’s nothing funny about war." He didn't like parades very much, but he still went.

When the Maidan started, it became clear that the Russians wanted to take us over. And after 11 years of war, I have no emotions or excuses for them anymore... They’re a degenerate race. Ukraine needs true independence — no alliances, no unions: neither with NATO, nor with Russia. The biggest mistake we ever made as a state was giving up our nuclear weapons.

This photo was taken in 2014 after the liberation of the town of Schastia

- I agree. But remember: in 2013, during the events on the Maidan in Kyiv, the 79th and 95th Brigades were ready to disperse the protesters...

- People blocked the roads when we left the militart base — they thought we were going to the Maidan. But instead, we were deployed to Kharkiv region. On May 11, 2014, we were already establishing defensive lines and manning checkpoints. May 11 is also my birthday — and that year, I spent it in Luhansk region. The entire brigade was loaded into a military train, and we entered Luhansk through Kharkiv region. We were lucky it all escalated gradually — at first, small arms firefights, then minor mortar shelling, and later, gradually, MLRS started hitting us.
And at the airport — we felt every single weapon the enemy had.

After 2014... it took me a long time to recover. I came back from the airport weighing just 47 kilograms. My head was heavy — we were constantly under fire, one concussion after another. I had blood coming from my ears, my eardrums were damaged. And in 2022 — it all started again.

- Where was the 80th Brigade stationed when the full-scale invasion began in 2022?

-  Pavlo Ivanovych Rozlach and I were at the Shyrokyi Lan training ground at the time. We all knew the invasion was coming — we were prepared for it. But we didn’t expect it to unfold on such a massive scale. And honestly, I was hoping that at least near Crimea our defenses would hold for a bit. I had served in Chonhar before — I personally inspected the minefields there. One time, I was searching for a minefield with General Bandera, the head of support forces. At some point, we realized we were already walking through it...Well, they were anti-tank mines, so it wasn’t that bad. We also checked the bridges — the explosives were planted! I still don’t understand what went wrong there — how the enemy managed to push that far, that fast. We met them near Kakhovka.

We pulled out of Shyrokyi Lan fast and moved into the nearest tree lines. We dispersed the personnel and the vehicles, dug caponiers, and parked each machine at least a hundred meters apart—we knew enemy aircraft would be coming in. We stayed there only briefly before heading toward Mykolaiv. We reached a quarry with a small patch of forest nearby. The commander said, "We’re digging in here."
I replied, "Not the best idea to dig right next to the road. Let’s shift closer to the water—if a shell lands in it, at least the fragments won’t fly straight at us." To his credit, the commander started digging with his bare hands, then with a makeshift scoop, until someone finally handed him a shovel. He worked—and still works—side by side with the soldiers. We didn’t eat at all for the first two or three days... We’d simply jumped onto the APC (Armoured Personnel Carrier) and taken off. I happened to have a sleeping bag on the APC —after the Russians riddled it with fire it had forty-eight holes; you could see the sky through it. Even so, the four of us huddled under it for cover.

We moved in south of Mykolaiv, took up defensive positions, and set up checkpoints. Then came the most epic moment. Civilian cars had just started driving out. I set up an ATGM launcher and said, "I’ll go see who they are and check their papers. We may have to turn them back." We understood that if cars kept passing once or twice, the enemy would spot us. I checked the driver’s passport and registration—he was fleeing, saying the Russians were already in the village. I told him he could go. Then I see an APC coming. I knew right away it wasn’t ours; the ground clearance alone was higher than on our vehicles. About forty men with white armbands were riding on top. Through my binoculars I immediately spotted the "Z" marking. There was no point opening fire—I’d have been wiped out or run over. My nearest troops were maybe two hundred meters away. I yelled to the ATGM gunner, "Fire!" but he went off to double-check with someone. I should have run back to our lines, but the guys there were waving their arms at me from a distance. You couldn’t see my Ukrainian pixel camo anymore—I’d been crawling through mud, it was smeared dark and looked like theirs. I sprinted. At about thirty meters left, I dove forward, emptied a thirty-round burst toward the enemy with one hand, and the firefight erupted—both sides shooting. Pavel Ivanovych opened up from the far side of the road, too. By then, all understood exactly what was happening.

- Did you only have an assault rifle?

- Yes. I didn’t even have body armor or a helmet — I was just out checking a civilian vehicle. That’s how the first APC reached us. We didn’t stop it — it broke through. Six or seven KIA (Killed in Action - ed.note) fell off it, and one wounded man. Those riding on top were tied together so they wouldn’t fall off during movement. And I realized that they were simply tossing the KIA off the vehicle themselves.

I checked the documents of the dead — they were from the 22nd Special Purpose Regiment. Earlier, three of their APCs had gotten lost in a field, and we tore them up there. From what I gathered, their mission was to seize a small bridge and the road — it was a key access route to Kherson.

After that, we saw a column of about 50 vehicles approaching from the left. We deployed the Stugna. Using it, we destroyed 23 enemy vehicles. The Stugna performed exceptionally well — even better than the Javelins or NLAW.

Lieutenant Colonel Nizhynskyi went off to look for more missiles, negotiating with the artillery guys; we were supposed to receive about a dozen rounds. Just then, enemy aircraft passed overhead for the first time—we could hear them dropping FABs. Half an hour later I got the call: the lieutenant colonel had been killed in an air-strike. An 80th Brigade medical truck with a Red Cross was parked there, and the officer’s jeep was next to it—the designated rendezvous point. A FAB hit the spot directly, destroying the vehicle. The medics from the 80th were killed, and so was he...

The Russians made further attempts to break into the village after that…

- Where did all this happen?

- There is a quarry near Kakhovka... We also had one APC burnt down, and the crew was killed. We retreated with the rest. All night long, everything was flying through us. The 1st Battalion suffered a lot... We were in a pit, and they were on the high ground, where the road was. Well, we were hit a couple of times. I was adjusting our artillery, MLRS. We were aiming everything we had by mobile phone, because there was no other communication. I was lucky that I was probably the only one who had Kropyva - the whole of Ukraine was on my mobile phone. Everyone else had only Luhansk and Donetsk regions on their tablets.

- And you wisely downloaded everything...

- Back in 2014, I’d go on reconnaissance with only a paper map fragment—yet the point we needed was outside that sheet. Since then, I’ve liked having every map at hand. Kropyva saved us: I had the entire map of Ukraine on my phone, so I could adjust fire wherever we were.

I had a hunch it would all come in handy. Even before we left for the training ground, our tasks bounced around: first we were told to scout areas in Chernihiv region, then—no, you’re heading to Mykolaiv. I was the first to drive to all those rail‐unloading sites, mark them for the commander—where to turn off, how to get through, which route to lead the column. Navigation apps are fine, but I’ve always kept extra data. I trained myself that way, and it paid off: everything was on my phone. Later, when we got the coordinates of the position we had to reach, we followed my phone all the way.

There was another moment when they tried to break through our lines. I was on the bridge setting up anti-tank weapons when I heard the gunfire start. A medical van was parked not far from me. From that high ground I was checking where to place a machine-gun nest to cover our rear—and suddenly I see one AAV (Airborne Assault Vehicle), then a second, third, fourth, fifth, driving in and spraying rounds at everything. I ducked behind a tree—wasn’t sure if luck would hold. The first hit landed square on our medical Sprinter; the blast wave blew me off the bridge and into the water. It was still chilly and the water reached my knees. I crawled out and got behind a bigger tree. From there I emptied all ten magazine cases I had on me while their vehicles kept rolling past. When the shooting paused, I lit a cigarette off the muzzle of my rifle.

- From the heated metal?

- Yes. And I kept thinking: how can I make it back to our own lines? What’s going on there? There was another fighter next to me — Khomenko, who was later posthumously awarded the title Hero of Ukraine. When the last vehicle in the enemy convoy passed by us, we spotted an RPG nearby. Khomenko rushed to grab it. Our APCs also joined the fight, and right there on the bridge, we took out four AAVs and a tank that was bringing up the rear of the column. It was Khoma who hit the tank with the RPG. After that, I went to look for my cousin, whom I had personally recruited into our brigade. He served in the UAV reconnaissance platoon. I remembered he was positioned in open terrain… And besides, we had to check if everyone was still alive. Thank God, everyone was alive, with only minimal losses. By then, we had managed to dig in properly.
We immediately decided to withdraw. Then I crawled forward to check if there was anyone near the approaches. I spotted the crew of the tank fleeing across the field — we engaged them as well. After that, we began moving out on foot. I remember I had a serious problem with my legs…

- Were you freezing?

- We were wet for two days — before that, I had been crawling through swamps as well. Then I got completely soaked. I could only walk on my heels. When we reached the next position near Voznesensk, what saved me was that Pavlo Ivanovych had just received a bag with warm knitted socks.I threw away my boots and rode in the APC wearing just those socks. For about a week after that, I kept treating my feet with ointments, with my legs all wrapped up.

- When you were standing behind the tree, didn’t you panic? Didn’t you think it was all over, that everyone was about to be killed?

- For about 30 seconds, I did think that... But then you realize you just have to take the fight. There was nowhere to run — I understood that.
I always taught the soldiers and sergeants: if you run, you become an easy target. Even when the first enemy convoy was advancing on us, I clearly understood: you have to stand and fight. If you start running or hiding, it won’t save you — you’ll just make yourself an easy target. That’s all there is to it. And this way: you fire a bit — you smoke a cigarette, you fire some more — you smoke again... (laughs.)

 - How has the nature of the war changed over the years?

- If you compare it, today it’s a completely different war than it was ten years ago. Back then, everything depended on the physical fitness of a servicemember. Now, the war is probably being won by "nerds" — IT specialists. They are the ones who can shift the course of events.
Infantry — yes, it still needs to be resilient. But our infantrymen are 50 to 60 years old, and they are holding the front. Their task is simple: not to waver, not to run, to hold the line. Everything else is done by FPV drones, artillery, and payload drops — it’s a drone war now, you could say.
We started developing this back in 2016. Our 3rd Battalion Tactical Group received its first Mavic drone — Serhii Prytula personally delivered it — and we were already conducting reconnaissance in Stanytsia Luhanska, livestreaming the riverbanks, and collecting aerial imagery.

Before the full-scale invasion began, I asked my friends to help train our personnel. One of them — now serving in the SOF (Special Operations Forces) — used to run a DJI drone store. For a week, he trained pilots to fly. That was the number one task: to have at least one UAV operator in every company. I used to do reconnaissance myself, and I know it’s better to fly than to move on foot... We were actively developing this. Then, as soon as we got our first payload-drop capabilities, we started using them immediately. Drones have saved many lives — and a lot of territory. Take Bilohorivka, the river crossing — back then, our UAV operators did everything possible and impossible. Yes, the enemy had strong EW systems, we suffered losses, everyone was still learning to fly, didn’t know the firmware... The Russians used aeroscopes to detect drone pilots and constantly targeted them. Then night drones appeared, and everyone started working actively with payload drops. The enemy quickly picks up on everything we do and mirrors our tactics. When we were forming the 82nd Brigade, our main focus was drones. I would go out with my brother — he flew the drone, while I used a tablet and a radio station to relay coordinates to the commander. That way, I was immediately adjusting artillery fire.

After Voznesensk, we advanced almost as far as Snihurivka. We lost a drone there, but adjustments still had to be made — we needed to see what the enemy was doing. So I climbed up and spent nearly 18 hours a day on a tower with binoculars — someone would take over for me later.

- What kind of tower was it?

- There’s a sugar plant over there, and on it — a tall tower. It was the highest point in the area. From up there, I saw a TOS-1A Solntsepok fire at us for the first time. When a thermobaric warhead hits, the blast wave is so strong, you physically feel it — like a punch to the chest.
Those who were closer... I honestly don’t know how they endured it. Even at that height, I felt like the blast nearly blew me off the tower.
It’s a long fall — straight onto the asphalt... During a couple of shellings, projectiles even flew right past me. There was all sorts of stuff. I stayed in constant contact with the commander. I’d spot a convoy moving — gave coordinates to artillery, they fired a salvo. I adjusted — they hit again. We stopped the advance. Then aircraft started coming in — you could see them from afar. In clear weather, I could see beyond Snihurivka — I watched their Smerch and Uragan launchers fire salvos. When the jets came in, it felt like each one was headed straight for me.
One of them deployed flares — I was blinded. Caught what you’d call a flash concussion, and my eyes were watering for two more days — I could barely see. And the wind on that tower... it never stopped blowing.

COUNTER-OFFENSIVE

- When we were redeployed to the Kryvyi Rih direction, we didn’t stay there long — but we had one hell of a story there. We were headed to Sukhyi Yelanets. Valera, callsign Batia, was driving, I was riding shotgun. We arrive — on one side, a Russian IFV; on the other, a tank.
We fled across the fields so hard we bent the wheel rims.  I took some local hunters with me, and we returned. We launched a drone over that area and saw around 300 pieces of equipment stationed there. Everything they had, moving or not, they had pulled into that area. From Sukhyi Yelanets, there’s a road that goes north toward Mykolaiv. It’s a straight, solid road — we later used it ourselves. Everything was flying in there. You didn’t even need to adjust fire — every shell hit something. There was a small village past Sukhyi Yelanets... We stayed with local civilians — Oksana and Vova took us into their home. They had a goddaughter in that village, and Russian tanks kept shelling it non-stop. I remember Batia and I were evacuating kids from there — they’d been under fire for nearly ten days. You couldn’t even step outside — anything that moved got hit instantly. Then the calls started coming in: five more need to be evacuated, then seven, eight more... In the end, there were around thirty children. We got them all out — what else could we do? We had a lot of moments like that in 2022…

I also took part in the counteroffensive. After it, a lot of people lost their motivation... In Zaporizhzhia region, the enemy had built three defensive lines. Everything was done by military engineers — calculated down to the smallest detail: where to place the "dragon’s teeth," where to dig trenches. It wasn’t just a defensive line — they had taken up advantageous positions on high ground, and we kept smashing into them. What we managed to break through and capture with the 82nd Brigade — it’s all lost now. We failed to reach certain positions because the personnel hadn’t been properly prepared. Adjacent units were supposed to carry out their part of the operation but they didn’t... There were many factors that worked against us.

All the people who came to our BTGr in 2022 were volunteer fighters. There was a line of people waiting. I remember we were heading out on a mission, under fire, and my phone was blowing up: "Where do I go?" People came voluntarily, driving their own cars, bringing hunting rifles. And during combat — what they pulled off was unreal... In the middle of a fight, a driver ran over two Russians — accelerated to 100 km/h and just mowed them down. You’ve seen that video from our brigade near the Kursk region — the driver in the armored vehicle chasing the enemy across the field and crushing them...

Now, there are still some who volunteer — but very, very few. I think that to fix this, to make people less afraid to go to war, the first step is to clearly define the length of military service during wartime. People want to know they’re not being turned into serfs — that there’s a set day when they’ll return to their families.

- Were you wounded during the full-scale war?

- In Verkhniokamianske, we were under rocket fire — we were getting hit by S-300s... That’s where I sustained a fracture of a vertebral process, plus a head wound. Since then, I’ve had ongoing back issues. I can’t handle heavy physical strain or wear body armor for long. Otherwise, inflammation sets in, the nerve gets pinched, and my legs start giving out. I feel it instantly when the weather changes… Spring and autumn are the hardest periods. And the concussions — they haven’t gone anywhere. Sometimes the headaches are so bad, I can barely speak. Until I take a pill, I can’t even get up. I also get muscle spasms at times. And my nervous system? It’s constantly on edge — 24/7...

- So probably, given your injuries and health, you probably could’ve stopped fighting by now?

- Apart from us Ukrainians, no one needs Ukraine. Everyone has to understand that. Is someone going to come and fight for us?
No — no one will. That’s why I get treatment from time to time and then go back to doing my job.

SERGEANTS ALWAYS LEAD FROM THE FRONT

-  I once told Pavlo Ivanovych: "When you need a senior sergeant, I’m here," - Oleksandr continues. - I completed all the NATO-standard training — intermediate level in Desna, at the NCO training center, and advanced level at the Cherniakhovskyi University. I know my job, I’m good at it, and I love it. You’re not working with papers — you’re working with people. Constant training sessions, drills all the time... Right now, I hold an officer’s position, but I’m still a sergeant. I’m not a career climber — I never chased after military ranks. Many of my sergeants, those who’ve been around since 2014, have already become officers.

- But it’s the sergeants who hold the army together, right?

- That’s right. The sergeant is the first person directly commanding the fight on the line of contact. What the headquarters plans — it’s the sergeant and his squad who execute it. Without a sergeant, no one will give the order to move forward. And we have a huge problem: sergeants always go first — and we lose them first. And who becomes a sergeant? The best soldiers. Leadership qualities are one thing, but combat experience is just as critical. You can be a leader during training and preparation. But when real fighting starts — no one knows how a person will behave, especially under the first shelling, the first artillery strikes. There’s a kind of "herd instinct" — everyone tends to bunch up.
And that’s when a leader, a sergeant, must make decisions: spread the troops out, order them to fire, and lead them into battle. It’s not enough to just tell a soldier, "Go there." Nobody’s going to move unless someone leads them. And it’s a huge advantage when that someone is a trained, battle-tested, motivated sergeant who knows his job and loves doing it.

- Do you have enough sergeants in your brigade now?

- It’s a constant process — training, mentoring, preparing. The first time I trained at Desna was back in 2009–2010. It was Soviet-style training: they’d throw you the "Statute of the Armed Forces of Ukraine" and have you copy pages five to six by hand... They said that’s how you memorized it better. We were constantly writing lecture notes, copying things, and then throwing the notebook away after training — never looking at it again. Though I’ve probably read the "Statute of the Armed Forces of Ukraine" a thousand times — because sometimes in service you need to double-check something... It’s the sergeants who explain things to the soldiers — everything from financial entitlements to material support. There are a lot of such issues. Because provisioning — that’s everything. But in the 80th Brigade, we’ve never had problems with that. Even back in 2014, when we deployed to the war, we were fully equipped and armed. Not exactly how we would have wanted — but we had everything we needed.

- Sounds like an ad campaign...

- Well, it is an ad campaign: the 80th is the best brigade in the Armed Forces of Ukraine!

Violetta Kirtoka, Censor. NET