Call sign "Chek": "Everyone’s banking on drones. It’s come to point where drone pilots are hunting down other pilots along contact line. When they locate one, they unleash everything
Oleksandr, call sign "Chek", is currently training to operate naval unmanned drones. He serves as an unmanned systems officer (external operator of USVs (uncrewed surface vessels)) within the unit of the Special Purpose Center’s separate diving detachment of the National Guard of Ukraine.
Although he has already served as a scout, a combat medic, and a UAV operator in this war, he joined the military long before the full-scale invasion. Back in 2014, his older brother was mobilized. He wanted to fight alongside him, but wasn’t accepted — he was still underage. He had to wait a year. After that, he joined the 73rd Naval Special Operations Center. That’s where he chose his call sign — a shortened version of his grandfather’s last name. He still uses it to this day.
- Where was your first combat deployment?
- In Marinka. I was scared — not of the enemy, but of letting my brothers-in-arms down. I was sent on a mission with a group of guys who had been working together since 2014. I understood that you can be well-trained, but without real combat experience, you still don’t know how you’ll act in any given situation. It was a huge responsibility for me.
- And how did it go?
- It was extreme! They were explaining my role in the group on the fly. Back then, I was just a regular scout. They assigned me to the combat crew, assigned a sector, and told me to follow the commander’s orders.
We moved into the grey zone to set up an ambush, but ran into the enemy and a firefight broke out. We took out several troops, while the rest of their group managed to pull back. We also withdrew to the forward line. Since we’d been spotted, the mission was replanned and we returned for a debrief and to prepare for the next sortie. The follow-on task was to locate and neutralise an enemy sabotage-reconnaissance group that had slipped into the rear of our neighbouring units. Two teams were combined into a single composite element—several crews equipped with an automatic grenade launcher, a Fagot ATGM and a DShK heavy machine gun. When contact was made, our DShK gunner was wounded: the bullet entered his arm and exited near the liver but missed the organ. He survived—there was no massive bleeding. He was evacuated in no time. Our composite-group commander was wounded as well—he stepped on an OZM-72 bounding mine, one of the nastiest devices out there. It shredded him from head to toe. Two guys walking right behind him were concussed. My teammate Maks and I were waiting for them. When we heard the blast, we tried to raise them on the radio—no response. We decided to sprint after them. The stretch we had to cross was open ground, fully covered by enemy fire. The Russians had heard the explosion too and were now zeroed in on that sector. As I was running, I caught my foot on a rock and went down. An enemy sniper was firing just then. I heard a ringing sound above me—like a lash—and thought: good thing I went down, the bullet passed over. I kept crawling forward and reached the commander; Maks did too. Together, we got him onto a stretcher. The two guys who’d been with him saw us and crawled closer. We radioed for an evac and shifted to a safer spot. Our vehicle rolled up, we loaded the wounded man, and sent him off. I didn’t even realise right away what had happened—everything was so sudden and fast. After completing the mission, we went back to base. I’d been on that rotation for four months. Then I returned to the permanent duty station and headed off to the U.S. Ranger courses. There, after a certain phase of training, they assessed our personal qualities and skills and assigned us roles—you were designated what you would be in the team. I was made a combat medic. I kept developing in that role. Later, a British team came to train us—they worked with us for two weeks. I really liked their training approach: they didn’t just give theory, they carried out the tasks with us, including all the physical drills. It was a great example—really impressive!
- Where did you serve once you became a medic?
- I was in Donetsk region—Vodiane, Shyrokyne, Starohnativka, and so on. We were assigned tasks as needed, so we operated in different settlements.
- Do you remember the first wounded soldier you treated as a medic?
- I do. It was a guy from a neighbouring team. His foot was torn off during a mission. There wasn’t massive bleeding because the wound had been cauterised. I applied a tourniquet and dressed the residual limb. We got him onto a stretcher, and within just a few minutes he was already evacuated.
- How did the full-scale war begin for you?
- By that time, I already had a civilian job—I was working as a truck driver. I had left the service a few years earlier to focus on my family. On February 24, 2022, I was on duty—on a work trip. We were spending the night in Bashtanka. At six in the morning, someone woke me up: "Get ready, the war has started!"
- Were you surprised?
- No. We’d been preparing for it to break out any day. I knew this kind of escalation was inevitable. Though I did think the state would at least organize things like humanitarian corridors, buses to evacuate women and children, and so on.
- But it didn't happen.
- It didn’t happen. So when I woke up, the first thing I thought was: I need to get home to Voznesensk as soon as possible. My wife and two-year-old son were there, along with my brother’s wife (he was abroad at the time, but later came back and joined the military) and their daughter. It’s just under 200 kilometers, but getting there was tough—roads were packed, gas stations swamped with cars and people holding fuel canisters. When I finally made it home, I decided there was no point in trying to leave right away—it would be too difficult with a small child in the car. I packed our things, managed to refuel, and picked up supplies from a store. That evening, I drove both our families to my mother-in-law’s place, closer to the border with Moldova (It’s kind of a neutral area over there.) I returned to Voznesensk and on February 23rd, I went to the military enlistment office. I said I wanted to rejoin my old unit—the 73rd Center—since I was a reservist and, in the event of war, that’s where I was supposed to report. But where was I supposed to go, when Ochakiv was one of the first places to come under fire and the groups had already been deployed on missions?! I had no idea where to find anyone. The logistics were totally unclear. So they suggested I join the Territorial Defense Forces. I showed up—and I was honestly really disappointed. It was already the second day of the war. There were about 40 people standing around, but no one was organizing roadblocks or sending anyone on reconnaissance missions. Maybe they were waiting for someone to show up and tell them what to do. At that moment, I didn’t see anyone who was ready to take command, and I realized it probably wasn’t the place for me to stay. I had friends serving in the National Guard, and they happened to be stationed at a nuclear power plant. I called and asked if they had room for one more. "Of course!" they said. "What documents do I need?" "Just your military ID." So I packed up and headed over. That’s how I ended up in the National Guard. We were assigned to defend our garrison.
- What was your role? Were you assigned as a medic?
- I served there as a medic, but also as an ATGM operator and an AGS gunner. We deployed different types of crews. We didn’t just defend the power plant—we were also sent out to positions near Bratske, Oleksandrivka, and Voznesensk.
There was an interesting story in Bratske. A local farmer had placed large concrete blocks in front of his field to stop anyone from driving across it—and he painted "Mined!" on them. At the time, a large Russian column (over 200 vehicles) was advancing toward Voznesensk. Our air force helped a lot, breaking the column into smaller groups that started moving along different routes. One of those groups turned toward Bratske and came up to that very field. They saw the warning (assumed it really was mined), turned around, and headed for Voznesensk instead (if not for that, they might have gone toward the nuclear power plant). So those farmer’s blocks ended up changing the situation entirely. Later, when we captured some of the Russian troops and checked their maps, we found out that the plan had been for their groups to completely cut off access routes to Mykolaiv and Odesa in the direction of Kyiv. But they kept getting lost and had no idea where they were. By the way, one of the groups that got lost while coming from Yelanets had their "Shysharyk" (GAZ-66 cargo truck – О.М.) stolen by some Roma. We handed it over to the Territorial Defense. They later also managed to swipe a Russian APC.
So the enemy pushed toward Voznesensk, but our Territorial Defense fighters were already waiting for them on the outskirts and opened the first fire. After that, the Armed Forces joined in. Heavy fighting took place there. Huge thanks to the Air Force, the infantry who fought the enemy, and everyone who held the line. I believe the city defended itself well. Let me tell you this: if our weapons had started hitting en masse when the Russians were just crossing the border at the start of the invasion, the war might have followed a completely different scenario. The Russians wouldn’t have suffered such heavy losses. Ukrainians responded well—a huge number of people truly came out to defend their land. At that time, people were absolutely sincere, honest, and determined. It was incredibly emotional and uplifting. It’s not like that anymore. Everything has changed completely.
- Why do you think that is?
- I think the motivation is gone. People have nowhere to draw it from. Everyone who volunteered back in 2022 did so to defend their land, their country. Today, many of them are already exhausted. You know, even six months at the front is a long time—it wears a person down. The situation at the front is tough, and all these negative factors keep piling up. The state needs to change its approach—not just grab people off the streets, but actually motivate them. First and foremost, financially. Anyone who goes to war and risks their life should have guarantees for the future.
- The state should also take care of those who need rehabilitation, both physical and psychological, because injuries have long-term consequences that are often overlooked. For example, almost all soldiers who’ve served on the zero line have concussions. You’ve had them too, haven’t you?
- Since 2016, actually—and they’ve never been treated. My hearing is deteriorating, and it can’t be fully restored.
Right now, so many people are dealing with health issues. We all came here, but no one can leave. That’s why I keep saying motivation is dropping—because no one knows how long they’re going to be stuck here.
And then there’s the corruption—that’s another demotivating factor. The war’s been going on for so long, and people still have to crowdfund for basic needs. And for us, it’s hard without that support from the rear.
- And all this while we don’t even know how long this war will last.
- Exactly. But we don’t have much of a choice—we just have to survive. One way or another, we’ll have to make it through this war. We keep fighting. But as I said, the situation at the front is tough. And civilian cities are constantly under fire too.
- That’s yet another sign that Russia has no intention of stopping.
- They don’t. But a lot of people believed Trump’s words: "I’ll come in, and the war will end." It’s a dangerous thing when someone lives off that kind of hope, thinking it’ll all be over tomorrow. What we really need is to prepare for the worst.
- Do you think the Russians will intensify their offensives?
- Time is wearing us down. There may not be bigger offensives than the ones we’ve already withstood. But the war evolves every day, especially on the technological front. Look at the number of drones—it’s grown so much that it’s hard to even give a precise figure. And they’ve completely reshaped the tactical level of warfare, taking over the entire battlefield advantage. This area is rapidly developing. The problem is, we have a lot of talented persons in this country who can create brilliant systems. But the state isn’t supporting them financially. If it were, we’d be in a much better position today.
- Speaking of drones—at some point, you retrained as a drone pilot, right? Can you tell us what UAVs you’ve flown?
- Mainly FPV drones. But we’ve also operated bombers and heavy UAVs like the "Vampire" drones. And of course, Mavics. It’s all part of one integrated system that works in sync.
Drones have taken over a huge segment of this war. The field keeps evolving, and I think it’s only going to accelerate. Right now, fiber-optics are becoming a priority. The main advantage there is that electronic warfare (EW) can’t jam a fiber connection. But naturally, countermeasures will follow. Think back to the start of the full-scale invasion—there were barely any drones back then. In hindsight, we probably should’ve believed in them earlier and used them more aggressively. But even now, we need to invest more in this area. Drones are highly effective and deliver real results. They take over a significant portion of the workload.
- On average, how many drones did you use per day?
- During assaults, a small four-person crew can expend over 40 drones in a single day.
- How would you describe Russian drone pilots?
- There are highly trained groups—real professionals. Judging by how they fly and how they locate our positions, they need to be tracked down and taken out.
Of course, there are also inexperienced ones. They expose themselves—revealing their positions, flying carelessly, showing what altitudes they operate from and how they approach targets.
Overall, they have a very large number of pilots.
-They’re also banking on drones.
- Absolutely, everyone’s banking on drones now. It’s come to point where drone pilots are hunting down other pilots along the contact line. When they locate one, they unleash everything they’ve got. It’s the same on both sides. A pilot has a high value in this war. They handle reconnaissance, strike missions with different types of drones, and even logistics.
- Recently, the commander of a night bomber crew from the 429th Separate Unmanned Systems Regiment, callsign Floki, told me that they’re seeing drone-on-drone battles in the air more and more often…
- Of course! Drone saturation is so high. At this point, it’s not even a pity to lose one if it means taking out an enemy recon drone. Because that recon drone is trying to locate our infantry and it’s the infantry that’s holding the entire defensive line. So it has to be taken out. It’s about saving our guys’ lives.
We need to ramp up drone production every day, improve their design, and upgrade their technical capabilities—so we can reduce how often people have to be directly involved in combat. If a ground drone can fight today, we should be using it. If a remote-controlled turret can hold a position, then let there be more of them. If assaults can be carried out using robotics, then that’s how they should be done.
The future belongs to drones. We’ve got all types—unmanned aerial systems, ground-based, underwater, and surface drones. By the way, we’re actively developing this area right now. We have our own vision of where and how we’ll be using them. It’s only gaining momentum. I flew for a long time, but now I’m also drawn to the ones that swim, dive, and can strike from where the enemy least expects it. Our unit is highly motivated and takes on extremely complex missions. The Separate Special-Purpose Diving Detachment is a very specific kind of unit—it fights in extremely harsh conditions, operating both on land and across water obstacles. It’s a completely different tactical environment. For me, it’s a major step forward and a chance to grow even further.
P.S. Friends, Chek’s unit needs our support and assistance. If you are able, please consider contributing to the fundraiser. Bank details:
Olha Moskaliuk, Censor.NET
Photos courtesy of the interviewee
