Drone control points can be set up 1,000 km away, even abroad – Ihor (Kraft) Vovk from Azov
On Azov, Olenivka, Mariupol, and drone warfare. Ihor "Kraft" Vovk explains why a truce without strength only gives the enemy time to prepare, while basic medical skills, weapons handling, military support, and drone development are becoming essential for the country’s survival.
The Azov unit was founded on May 5, 2014, and since then, its name has been shrouded in misinformation. There were even situations where Western governments and journalists failed to fully grasp what Azov truly represented, often applying "Nazi" labels without understanding the nature of Ukrainian patriots. It was only the full-scale invasion that revealed to the world the reality of Azov, its commanders, and the heroism of the regiment in Mariupol.
Today, we are meeting with a man who joined Azov and was among the first to implement the use of FPV drones. He fought for Ukrainian Mariupol, survived the Olenivka terrorist attack, and has now returned to the ranks. He is a Major and the commander of the 6th Special Purpose Battalion of the 12th Special Purpose Brigade "Azov," Ihor "Kraft" Vovk. Welcome.
Glad to be here.
Ihor, I would like you to start by sharing your story, how you, a young man who is now an experienced soldier, ended up joining Azov in the first place.
It happened in 2020, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. I was studying at a regular university, the State University of Telecommunications. Looking toward the future, I felt I needed either a military education or a military ID to work in my professional field later on. So, I enrolled in the military department of the National Defense University of Ukraine. I didn't like it there from the start because some of the majors were overstepping their bounds. I decided that since classes were remote anyway due to COVID, I would rather join Azov and serve to gain real experience and skills. I figured if a full-scale armed conflict were to break out, as I anticipated at the time, I wanted to be in a unit with proper commanders and comrades.
Essentially, that is exactly what happened. In September 2020, I completed the Basic Combat Training (BCT) course and became a member of the unit, specifically the 3rd Company of the 1st Battalion.
What exactly appealed to you about Azov? Or perhaps was there someone in particular who inspired your decision to go there?
I was surrounded by veteran Azov members who had moved into civil activities, including national-patriotic education, in which I was also involved. I believe I have been part of the Youth Corps since 2018, working with national-patriotic education camps for children called "Azovets." There were quite a few people there, not "old" per se, but Azov veterans, who were also involved in that. When it came time to choose a unit, there weren't really any other options for me. I simply asked when the next BCT course would be; they said September, so I prepared and went.
And by the way, how did your relatives, your family, react to that choice when you said, "I’ve decided, I’m joining Azov"?
Well, this time it was fine. I’d wanted to go a year earlier, I think, but my parents weren’t too keen on the idea back then, so I thought, ‘Right, let’s put it off for another year.’ And then when the pandemic hit, and I was sitting at home all day anyway, studying remotely, and the question came up, they reacted to it rather better.
I must ask: how important is this military-patriotic education for Ukrainian youth? Based on what you are describing, you became interested in this just as you were leaving your teens.
Well, at 17 or 18 years old.
We see a situation where, if you read Russian news, preparation is in full swing, even in kindergartens, children are being taught how to assemble assault rifles. Given that we will always be neighbors with Russia, Belarus, and, God forbid, Hungary, which also harbors certain imperialist sentiments, how should we prepare Ukrainian youth for the necessity of defending their land?
In much the same way, but based on our own history. We will have a large number of veterans with combat experience. Working with children will also aid their own reintegration. They can demonstrate and explain to everyone living in our country that, because of our neighbors, it is necessary to possess skills in tactical medicine or first aid, weapons handling, even basics like what a weapon is and how to disassemble it, and combat engineering skills. This includes understanding what IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices) look like, what can and cannot be done with them, and who to notify.
We were involved in this even before the full-scale invasion as part of the Youth Corps. Back then, Russian propaganda was spinning stories about a "Hitler Youth" and children with wooden rifles practicing tactics, and so on. Now, they actually take pride in doing the same themselves.
Imagine you were asked to give a lecture to schoolchildren, let's say, 14-year-olds. Based on your experience, what key messages would you want to instill in them?
The primary ones would likely be first aid. Practices in Western countries show that even three-year-old children, if they know what to do, can save a grandparent suffering from a stroke or heart attack through simple actions. Every age group has its own category and topics to explore, which expand over time.
For all children without exception, we can teach basic first aid: who to call if something happens, and certain maneuvers, such as the recovery position. This is essentially the foundation that a child can know and apply, even without any prior knowledge.
As they grow older, these protocols can be expanded. Experience has shown that even during ballistic missile or Shahed drone attacks on Kyiv, many paramedics, both military and civilian, make a significant contribution to sustaining a person’s life until an ambulance arrives.
So, tacmed is essential; it's a must-have.
It’s not tacmed; it’s first aid. They differ in protocol because tactical medicine involves procedures that can only be performed by a certified service member or someone with a medical background. First aid, however, can be provided by anyone who knows how to do it correctly.
I would also like to ask: how important is it to tell teenagers about the realities of the current war? I have heard some mothers say they want to shield their children so that, until a certain age, they don't know such grief and suffering exist.
It is impossible to shield a child from everything because children have the internet and phones. If things aren't explained to them correctly, they will watch whatever is most prevalent online. Unfortunately, the internet is full of fakes and Russian propaganda that twists facts to suit their needs. Therefore, it is necessary to talk to children about history, about the true history of Ukraine, including contemporary history as it is being made, so that there are no various fakes, which... children have not yet developed critical thinking, so they sometimes cannot filter one from the other on their own. However, they are now more adept at navigating artificial intelligence than the older generation.
But when it comes to information produced by Russia’s propaganda machine, issues may arise. That is why information must be presented, and situations explained correctly. This is something the state must handle properly; if this work isn't done, we stand to lose a great deal.
Let’s go back to the eve of the full-scale invasion. I understand you were already in Mariupol at that time, serving there. Can you describe the moment when you and your comrades realized that a full-scale invasion was coming? Perhaps not on this exact scale, but when did you realize this path was irreversible?
A week before it began, we were stationed in an old, abandoned children's camp on the coast of the Sea of Azov, waiting for an amphibious assault. Then, around the 20th, they pulled us out and told us, "That’s it, guys, send all your unnecessary belongings home, because there will likely be a mobilization." That is essentially what we did. We realized something big was about to happen on the evening before, following Putin’s address. From Mariupol, you can clearly see Shyrokyne, Lebedynske, and Pavlopil, and the horizon there was simply red. While we had previously heard isolated artillery fire, now there was just a red haze. We understood that something like this was likely coming.
How did you encounter that dawn as it turned into the morning the full-scale invasion began, given it was already quite clear that Mariupol was the Russians' number one target? It was critically important for them to take the city back in 2014; they failed then, but the goal remained. How did it happen?
We were woken up about 10–15 minutes before the first ballistic missile strikes on Ukrainian territory. They said, "That’s it, guys, it has started, get ready." We were prepared; we were sitting on our bags. We started getting dressed; I went to put the kettle on, and then the first strike hit, either they missed or something happened. Near our base in Mariupol, literally 250 meters away, there was a House of Culture, and the first rocket we heard hit there. We quickly went down to the basement, waited it out, came back up, got dressed, got into the vehicles, and deployed to our designated defense sectors as planned the day before. Our sector, the 3rd Company of the 1st Battalion, was the Skhidnyi microdistrict. We spent most of the campaign, the beginning of the war, there before gradually withdrawing toward Azovstal.
Can you describe your emotions when you realized that Mariupol was already blockaded and there was effectively no help coming from anywhere?
What emotions? There was no time to think about global things like that. You were constantly thinking about what was right in front of you. There wasn't much room for dreaming because there was so much work; I slept very little. It was literally like Groundhog Day. I would wake up, and Puhach, at that time, my company commander, now the brigade commander, would simply assign a task. I’d say, "Understood," take some guys, and we’d go execute it. As for the global situation, whether we were blockaded or not, that realization and a sense of helplessness only hit at the end of April when we moved into the shop floors of Azovstal itself. Before that, we were fighting enemy infantry at very close range, and aviation almost never hit us. When tube artillery was active on the front lines, it felt safer. But once you enter a factory shop, FABs, KABs, unidentified artillery, cluster munitions, phosphorus, and so on are hitting constantly, maybe with a 20–30 minute break. That’s when you realize everything before was child’s play, and so you just settled into a certain kind of state. By then, it hardly affected anything anymore because you understood perfectly well there was nowhere to go; you just had to carry out your tasks. That was essentially how it remained until the final exit.
You mentioned in one interview that your greatest fear was being taken prisoner.
Yes, specifically being captured in battle, during combat in residential sectors or urban areas in Mariupol. Everyone understood perfectly well what they would do to Azov members there. When there were voice contacts with the enemy, they knew exactly who we were, where we were, and our status. You couldn't just play dumb and pretend to be a border guard or someone else. So, yes. And after encountering the "Akhmat" units, the Chechens, who also killed almost everyone who tried to surrender, that idea was discarded entirely. The only reason I agreed to an official exit into captivity was the argument regarding my wounded comrades at "Zheleziaka" (The Iron)—that was the name of the medical bunker at Azovstal where most of the wounded were kept. The primary argument was that they needed medical aid. There were about 600 of them, I think, maybe even more. A breakout with them was impossible, and no one was going to abandon them. Therefore, it was almost the only way for them to receive aid and survive, for some to continue a normal life, so to speak, and any attempt to sabotage that could have affected them. That was the argument that influenced the decision to surrender.
Looking back at that decision, we did manage to save most of the people, those who were wounded, right? So, this sacrifice was not in vain?
Of course. I don’t know what other scenarios there could have been, but I think among those possible, this was likely the best option to save the lives of our wounded brothers.
And obviously, this was based on a very high level of trust in your commander, Redis, who said that this was the option, that this was how we would exit.
When we saw Redis's video in the first days of the full-scale invasion, where he said, "I order everyone to fight for Mariupol until the last drop of blood," there weren't even any questions as to the why or the how.
It should be noted that Redis's live broadcasts via Starlink greatly helped improve Azov's image around the world, even among those people and governments who were distrustful and wondered what the unit was about. Previously, they usually painted an image of some uneducated Nazi, but here comes a man who explains in English what is actually happening in Mariupol, while also saying very politically sound things.
You were one of those who, I understand, were the last to leave Azovstal, right? Could you describe who left with you, and what your feelings were when you realized that the history of your battle in Mariupol had come to an end here?
It was a collective feeling, that is, there was a ceasefire regime starting around the 10th, possibly with interruptions. But when the exit into captivity actually began, I think it was the 15th or 16th, lasting over four days—it became a full ceasefire. While from the 10th to the 16th, they still tried to sneak onto the plant's territory under the radar, they stopped after the agreements were made. There was an absolute sense of relief, an absolute silence. Nothing is flying over you; there are no incoming strikes or explosions anywhere. So every day we just went outside to sit, drink tea, and talk, because before that you spent almost all your time either in a bunker or in the passages between the bunkers. So, there was this sense of relief right up until we reached the first FSB servicemen, who started inspecting our belongings and so on. Those exiting included myself, Puhach, the company command of the 1st Battalion, Shyk, I believe, Kirt, and Murzik. I left on the last day. It just so happened that we were first met by our own guys who were compiling the lists; then there were HUR (Main Intelligence Directorate) representatives who shook our hands and said, "Thank you for your service." We handed over our weapons, and that was it. We moved on. And right at that moment, the unit's command was leaving, so I saw Redis, Tavr, and Apis there. They were put into separate vehicles and taken away. The rest of us were put onto buses. We then had a long drive to Olenivka.
Were you sent directly to Olenivka?
Yes.
What happened in Olenivka? Were you being processed? Who were these people? Were there, let's say, Ukrainian collaborators among them, or were they hired Russians?
First, they inspected our belongings there on the bridge, then put us in buses. Red Cross representatives walked through the buses.
We wrote down our relatives' details there so they could be notified. After that, it must have been around 6 p.m.
We reached Olenivka by nightfall, around 11 p.m., sat there, and only entered the actual territory of the penal colony around lunchtime, probably. We essentially spent the night in the buses because the colony was not designed for such a large number of people, nor was the staff prepared for it. The personnel there were from FSIN, Russia's Federal Penitentiary Service. They then checked everything again, assigned us to barracks, recorded our data, and generally carried out all their procedures, fingerprinting, and essentially maintained order.
How did a typical day go in those barracks in Olenivka after that?
We woke up, I think, at 6:00 or 8:00—at 6:00 a.m., I believe. We listened to the Russian anthem, then lined up at 8:00 a.m. for a headcount. Then we waited for breakfast, then lunch, then the evening lineup, and lights out. So it was a constant Groundhog Day that began every time with the Russian anthem, and that was it. We had to find ways to entertain ourselves. Many of the guys who left in the first batches, I understand they were subjected to less rigorous property searches and brought a large number of books with them. We took turns reading and swapping books. That was the main thing we could do to pass the time. Conversing with comrades. We had comrades who knew English well; in the evenings before the lineup, we would sit down, speak in English, and hold some makeshift classes just to keep from going crazy, support each other, and have something to occupy ourselves with.
I understand there was also a disciplinary isolation ward on the territory of Olenivka, where they took those who had allegedly violated discipline, as well as women, judging by eyewitness accounts. What was happening in this isolation ward?
This isolation ward was somewhat separated from the main barracks and was located near the club where the main work with the Investigative Committee and the FSB took place, the interrogations. Into the isolation ward, the isolation cell, besides women, they also sent men. I heard the screams of my comrades being tortured a couple of times when I was near the club. If an FSB or Investigative Committee officer didn't like you, they would send you there. There were DPR militants there who would torment you, deprive you of sleep and food, and constantly torture you so that you would later give the testimony the Investigative Committee or FSB officers wanted from you.
What kind of testimonies were they beating out of people? What were these testimonies about? That they killed civilians?
Yes, they wanted us to simply take the blame for all the sins they had committed, something that is still happening now. They conduct trials based on completely fabricated cases and charges. They blamed artillerymen and tank crews for the destruction of residential buildings and streets; they even wanted to pin the Drama Theater on the tank crews and artillerymen. Reconnaissance snipers were accused precisely of murdering local residents. If the investigator lacked something, he would tell you directly: either you invent a case against yourself, or you go away and don't come back until you do. Thus, the guys invented things, taking some guilt upon themselves because, during torture, it was easier to make up a story and name a few comrades who were supposedly witnesses to it. Then they would gather you, you would agree to say the same thing, and someone would be the accused while the rest became witnesses.
Who was treated the worst? Did it perhaps vary depending on the ranks of your comrades or their type of duty?
They had a certain bias, let's say, against reconnaissance, snipers, and tank crews. They believed that most were brainwashed by propaganda, so these were the first to be taken to the Donetsk pre-trial detention center. These were the regiment's artillerymen, tank crews, and reconnaissance scouts. And anyone whose military ID said "sniper", they didn't even understand that a second-category sniper in an infantry company could be anyone. My comrade, a machine gunner, held that position simply because. Still, they started this right from the moment we were in the bus; there were two escorts walking around interrogating everyone, asking, "Who are you? Who are you?", because during our Mariupol campaign, they were fed this exact propaganda, that we were killing civilians, torturing people, and so on. That it was precisely these units doing all this.
I read in your interviews, and some of your comrades mentioned, that civilians were very often brought to Olenivka, mostly pensioners, who, for some food, could give fake testimonies against Azov members. Did this happen?
I think so, yes. I did not encounter this in Olenivka; I encountered it after the terrorist attack when I was in the hospital with injuries. A journalist from some local YouTube channel came to me and showed me videos from the trauma ward of the very same clinic where I was hospitalized. In the videos, elderly women with broken arms or legs were talking about how a sniper had shot them, and so forth. I felt very ill at the time because I had just finished a course of antibiotics. If that video ever surfaces somewhere, I haven't found it yet, you can see that I am speaking as lethargically as possible, yet he still wanted me to confirm his claims. And in the video, an elderly woman directly states that she was shot at, that she saw a sniper shoot a family, then come out, point his finger, and laugh about it, just some caricatured things. Having a bit of combat experience, I simply understood that if a grandmother were shot in the arm with a sniper rifle from the distance she stated, it would have torn her arm off up to the shoulder, rather than just causing some closed fracture. So I told him that. He tried to provoke me into saying words that would benefit him. In the end, I simply stated that I condemn any actions by the military, whether Ukrainian or Russian, directed at civilians. He strongly disliked that phrase; he quickly turned around and went to the next room to see my comrade Maslo, to interrogate him about similar things.
Can you recall what was happening literally a day or two before the terrorist attack, which, unfortunately, caused the deaths of several dozen of your comrades? Did you have any premonition of what was gathering there, or was the preparation completely unnoticeable?
The preparation was noticeable. Other prisoners of war, border guards and National Guardsmen who worked in the colony, told us when they brought food that a separate barracks was being prepared. They said, "We are cleaning everything there right now, sweeping, setting up beds. It's most likely for you." Then the FSIN personnel started walking around with lists, checking the personnel present. And then, in the morning, they simply brought lists to the barracks and told us to line up with our personal belongings. At that moment, we didn't know what it was. I thought it was some kind of transfer further on, either to a penal colony in Russia or to the Donetsk pre-trial detention center, because previously, they usually came with such lists for guys who subsequently went to the Donetsk pre-trial detention center.
They lined us up. They took the first batch initially, about 150 men, and then brought them to the barracks. And we stayed there for those day and a half to two days, until the moment of the terrorist attack. There were absolutely no conditions for long-term accommodation. I have talked about this repeatedly because I give interviews about Olenivka every year.
You must, so that people do not forget what happened in Olenivka.
There were absolutely no conditions. For 200 men, I think there were two toilets. One shower, a washbasin, large 1,000-liter water tanks with no taps. The territory was not suitable for long-term accommodation because they hadn't even implemented any security measures on their end. That is, at any moment, you could crawl through a hole in the fence and simply walk into the next section. They only noticed this a day later. The beds in the barracks itself were placed very tightly together—there weren't even aisles in some places, or the aisles were so narrow you had to turn sideways to pass. Therefore, we thought it was some kind of transit point, just to concentrate us there and transport us somewhere else. To be honest, there was no hint or hope of an exchange at that time.
And you described that literally the day before, you noticed a drone overhead, and this prompted the thought that something was wrong.
Yes, it was in the evening. We were walking in the courtyard after dinner, and I just saw green and red lights in the sky. I pointed them out to my comrades; they looked up and saw them. A couple of minutes later, MLRS (Multiple Launch Rocket System) reactive artillery started firing, not from the wall, but a little further away from the tree line located near the colony. This was not news to us because artillery regularly fired from near the colony. Also, columns of equipment were constantly driving past the colony, being relocated, because it was like a buffer zone. Everyone knew that Ukrainian prisoners of war were there, and no one was supposed to fire at it, so for them, it was like a safe zone, so to speak. That was it; having considered this, I just pointed it out to the guys and went to sleep. During the terrorist attack itself, I woke up from, as the guys later told me, the second explosion, not the first, and specifically from the wounds I received.
So you woke up and the terrorist attack had already occurred?
It was already burning a bit. Most of the guys were in the inner courtyard. There were many empty beds around me where my comrades should have been sleeping, so I understood that they had already run out at that point when they heard the first explosion. I was still asleep then.
You were also wounded during this terrorist attack. How did you get out of this barracks, and who helped you?
I sustained an abdominal wound. I woke up, looked, checked my limbs, there was no massive bleeding. I saw the abdominal wound and understood there would be internal bleeding, and that I would get cold. I grabbed a fleece, a sweater, or a scarf, I don't remember, and started getting out. In my eyes, it was as if I was just walking my usual route to the exit. Nearby, there were scattered or broken beds; along the way, I saw several comrades, bodies of comrades fused into the beds, and saw several other bodies of comrades. The barracks were already burning quite strongly. I simply went outside and lay down under something there. Later, when I met up with Maslo, he told me how it looked from his perspective, as he slept a bit further from me and exited after me. Besides the abdominal wound, I also had a right leg wound, and I wasn't moving as fast as it seemed to me. As a result, he said this process took several minutes. Then I just lay down under the fence and started checking myself again. They brought another wounded guy to me who needed help. I gave him my jacket and saw my comrade Bilyi running past. I grabbed him and explained the situation. He looked, and I said there were no critical bleeding points, just bleeding from the belly. That was it; we had to somehow get out of there, because if the fire flared up, we clearly wouldn't survive. Because it was a factory shop, there was quite a lot of oil, there were spots on the floor, and the walls were generally splattered with it. He helped the guys break an exit through the fence into the next section of the zone. I was with him, among the first. He supported me because my leg, the adrenaline had subsided a bit, and my leg wasn't working at all. He brought me to the next location, first sitting me under a tree. Then there were shots in the air and orders for everyone to move out onto the alley. I asked him to drag me onto the alley, which he did, and I also asked him to find me a jacket because of the blood loss and the cold. He took one from another comrade. I just remember this: he runs up, asks, "Are you in one piece? Take off your jacket." He takes a Puma jacket off him and gives it to me. And that was it. I lay there until morning; it was quite light by the time they loaded us, stacked in piles into Ural trucks, and drove us to the Donetsk hospital.
And you were examined at the Donetsk hospital, and as I understand it, you were very lucky to have any blood left in your body.
Yes, at the Donetsk hospital, an orderly examined me, started measuring my blood pressure, and asked what kind of wound I had. I threw back a sheet and showed her the wound. She checked my blood pressure and said, "No, this can't be right; something is wrong here." Then she called another orderly, they rechecked it, said I needed surgery, and took me to the admission ward, where I waited for an ambulance. The ambulance then transferred me to another hospital, to the surgical department.
And everything was fine in the surgical department? Did they provide qualified assistance there?
Well, yes, more qualified assistance there, let's say. I have a very vague memory of those moments. I remember driving through Donetsk, then being loaded up again, brought into the department, having my clothes cut off, being asked for some personal details, and that was it. The next frames I remember are from the operating room. I felt a little calmer when I saw a huge, gray-haired surgeon there; he just glanced at my belly, said everything was fine, and that was it. Then they administered the medications, and that was it. I later woke up in the intensive care unit. I woke up several times because I was on a mechanical ventilator. A nurse tried to teach me how to breathe again; I managed it on the second or third try, and basically, that was it moving forward. When I spoke with the surgeons who bandaged and examined me, they told me I had very little blood left. I also remember during those awakenings in the ICU that, besides the IV drips, there were bags of blood hanging. They said the wound itself was ordinary, but that I was lucky. He asked, "Are you an athlete?" I said, "Well, yes." He said, "You know, you're lucky your heart is just trained, and it kept you pumping with the volume of blood you had left."
That is an advertisement for why one should play sports in Ukraine. I understand they treated you and started preparing you for the exchange.
They treated us and started preparing us to be sent back to Olenivka or the Donetsk pre-trial detention center. Since I still had a hole in my belly, I was simply transferred to another hospital.
I was just waiting there as well for the wound to heal. The guys from the command of the DPR guard battalion who were guarding us—one day, one of them just comes in and says, "They told us to compile lists." He adds, "You will be bouncing around in that Ural truck for 12 hours."
Well, he was more or less adequate. You could sometimes joke with him or play chess.
So, I jokingly told him that if it was a trip to Russia or Donetsk, then no, but if it was for an exchange, I would endure the shaking for a whole day if I had to. He said, "Well, they told us it's for an exchange." I replied, "Well, let's try." He put me on the list, and a few days later, representatives of the FSB arrived, I assume, or the local Ministry for State Security, wearing balaclavas. They gathered us from the entire hospital according to that list. There I saw my comrades again—Puhach, Pako, and a few others, in the lobby itself as we were waiting to leave. They loaded us up and then drove us from the hospital to the Donetsk pre-trial detention center, transferring or adding people along the way. Then to Olenivka, where we were transferred to other Ural trucks, and then Taganrog, Rostov, by plane to Moscow, Homel, buses, and the border. The exchange.
Pako and I met in the hospital lobby and rode to Olenivka together. In Olenivka, we loaded into the Ural trucks. We sat there, tightly packed between each other's legs, with our hands tied and our eyes blindfolded. Pako was sitting right next to me. I remembered his injury, his femur was completely shattered, because I had handled his evacuation back when we were at Azovstal. I deliberately shifted a bit to give the guy some room so his leg could lie properly. At some point before departure, everything was set, the tailgate was closed, and we thought we were about to move on. Then they start walking among the vehicles shouting his last name. They found him, unloaded absolutely everyone, took him out, and then loaded everyone back in. I lifted my blindfold slightly and saw him limping to an ambulance. I thought, "Well, great, maybe he'll travel in comfort." But later, when they announced the lists on the plane, I didn't hear his name and was a bit confused. And after we were exchanged, I realized they had taken him back to the hospital, not for the exchange.
And what happened to him next?
Well, I don't remember exactly, but I believe he was exchanged about a year ago. He spent more time after that, however long it was, undergoing medical treatment, and then, as I understand it, he was also moved around various penal colonies. He was exchanged about a year ago. He is currently receiving treatment because his injury is quite severe.
Well, yes, and the treatment, obviously, was not of high quality either, hence such consequences.
And so, you return home after isolation, after this captivity. What are the initial feelings when a person returns home after such isolation, hears the Ukrainian language, and sees their own people?
Well, initially, I don't know, there was a sense of bewilderment. Because I don't smoke—when you cross that border, there are mounds and embankments, and you have to navigate them in a zigzag pattern. Russian prisoners of war were walking toward us there; our guys stayed behind because HUR officers gave them cigarettes, so they had a smoke break. Meanwhile, since my leg was still not fully functional, I slowly hobbled onward. They caught up with us later, of course, but when I came out, there were many ambulances and buses standing there. Two medical workers immediately ran up to me, saying, "Severely wounded." I said, "No, it's fine, that's it." They said, "Let's get into the ambulance, we are going to the hospital right now." I replied, "No, no, no, I'm fine, I'm here right now, and as I understand it's an exchange, I just want to hang out with the guys." Because this was one of the first exchanges, things weren't as they are now—disciplined, calculated, thoroughly organized. We had a ton of different food in the buses. We gathered, sat in the buses in our own groups with people we knew, and just talked—who was where, what was happening, how things were, and so on. So those were the first moments: spending time with comrades, with the volunteers who were there, and then a police officer gave me his phone so I could call my mother and inform her. That is roughly how it happened.
I would like to pivot slightly, not about Olenivka and what you endured, but about a cultural aspect. In an interview with Ukrainska Pravda, you noted a very interesting point: "After isolation, it was novel for me that a huge amount of high-quality Ukrainian music had emerged. During my first week in the hospital, I listened exclusively to it, even though many of those songs are now considered cringeworthy 'Bayraktar pop.' I started listening to cool artists." Which artists did you discover for yourself?
A lot of what is now called post-punk, like "DK Energetyk." I know the tracks, but I can't name many off the top of my head. "Vulytsia Skhid," or SadSvit with the song "Kaseta," when, well, I didn't see Frost's video that was published back at Azovstal; I only saw it after my release. So, generally artists like that. Back then, I just had a plasma TV in my hospital room; I would go on YouTube, turn on "Top 100 Ukraine," and let it play all day. There were quite a few high-quality artists there. I really liked it at the time.
So having our own music is indeed important?
Naturally, because it is culture. If there is no music of your own, you will look for a substitute. It is fine if it is a Western substitute, but the majority simply replace our music with Russian music, and that is quite bad.
Unfortunately, a great many of your Azov comrades still remain in captivity, and this has dragged on for years. They are being handed down sentences, imprisoned for long terms, and charged with things one couldn't even imagine. Approximately how many people currently remain in captivity?
About seven hundred.
700?
Yes, roughly that many.
It is no secret that Mariupol has now essentially been handed over to the Kadyrovites, to Ramzan Kadyrov, and they are running things there; they have essentially taken control of the city. Is there a sense of regret, given that Mariupol is a city that began to be associated with Azov after 2014?
What can be done, really? I don't know if this can be said or not; if anything, the press service will censor it later. I saw footage from our drones flying over Mariupol, specifically the corps-level drones, and it evoked a certain nostalgia. Returning to the question of the Kadyrovites and Mariupol, it was expected, because even during the battles for Mariupol, they were already shooting their own "documentary" films, staging scenes of them storming our base in Mariupol, and so on. So it is what it is. I would want to take Mariupol back solely because a great many of our fallen guys remain there, and I am not sure that all the bodies will be returned. Since we collected their bodies and stored them in refrigerators there, and even if we couldn't retrieve them from the battlefield, we knew where they were buried, so, at the very least, for that sake alone.
That is, so that every hero and comrade has their own grave.
Ihor, I also cannot help but raise this topic: you survived captivity, you are a very young person, and I think you see how frequently young people flee abroad by any means necessary, and then post Reels about their new, problem-free lives. I believe many would ask you: why did he go to the Zaporizhzhia direction after captivity?
I don't need any separate motivation to join. I have a lot of comrades in captivity. I understand that through my actions and the actions of my unit, by capturing some Russian soldiers, officers, or anyone else, we can bring their exchange closer. I understand that the more we work at the front, the more favorable conditions we will be able to secure in negotiations, including prisoner exchanges. That is because I strongly want my comrades to return. And that, essentially, is the main factor. As for the fact that someone is fleeing somewhere, it is simply a failure of the state system that should be handling this, of that same telethon or something else. Where people could be explained what is what and how. Especially now, when, if you don't miss your chance, you can choose a proper unit for yourself, you can work as a UAV operator, which is scaling up very heavily right now in the Unmanned Systems Forces, as well as in brigades and battalions. These units always need people. Because there are new types of UAVs, unmanned ground vehicles (UGVs), strike, reconnaissance, of any type. And people are simply needed to operate them. It has even reached the point where control points can be set up 1,000 km away, even abroad. To secure them. But because our information policy is inadequately managed, not all people understand this, and therefore, they lean toward what Russian propaganda pours into their ears.
Well, in our country, information policy is mostly driven by Telegram and TikTok, and very often anonymously. That is, it is impossible to even understand who exactly is doing this and from which country.
I cannot help but ask about drones, since you were one of the first people dealing with them in Azov. Can you evaluate how drone warfare has evolved during the full-scale invasion, from the beginning when drones first appeared, and people were still largely just playing around with them, to the present time, when drones are on both sides of the front and represent a very serious strike force?
The real impetus, the leap specifically for our side, was the so-called shell hunger, when there were not enough artillery shells. We had to invent and come up with something. And that was precisely a very strong impetus for the development of strike FPV drones. Overall, if there are people, sufficiently conscious volunteers, there are several companies with which I communicated back when I was the commander of the technical reconnaissance company, I communicated with both the owners and the people working there. They say they constantly see old technologies being used. Those same Leleka and Furiia drones, from 2014 up to a certain point, changed very little in their configuration or structure simply because they had no competitors on the market. Now they have competitors; they also need to evolve. And these impulses, because there are more manufacturers, more people, and now there is also a system where you yourself can openly vote, write comments for any product on the Brave1 platform, and request the equipment that actually works. This provides an impetus for manufacturers to develop and improve. They no longer make 1.5 billion drones of the same type, which is outdated in terms of control frequencies and video frequencies, and send them to everyone, because you can say that you simply do not need this junk because it doesn't work, and refuse to accept it. You can say that you need specific specifications, specific conditions, and so on. And this can depend on many factors.
Could you clarify: are they trying to deliver less junk to the military now? Or have the military learned to distinguish between junk and high-quality equipment?
Of course. Currently, unfortunately, not all drones entering the military can fly right out of the box and hit a target, but the majority can, let's say. I know that in the Unmanned Systems Forces, there are no problems at all with their workshops. Right now, everything is moving toward a point where, take the DOT-Chain market of the State Operator for Non-Lethal Acquisition (DOT), for example, you can specify the exact configuration you want, so you don't have to sit there later resoldering receivers, transmitters, and attaching your own initiation boards, and so forth. That is, it is all progressing in rather slow steps, but everything is moving toward a point where soon it will simply be a ready-made product, like a cartridge. You take it out of the box, load it into the magazine, and fire. And over time, when everything is streamlined, when certain corruption schemes in this process are eliminated, that is exactly how it will be. You take it out of the packaging at the position, attach the warhead, and fly off to hit the target. Currently, unfortunately, certain modifications to all these drones are still being carried out purely because the enemy is also evolving and actively developing countermeasures to this.
I would also like you to evaluate such systems as UGVs, because they are very often discussed as a foundation for technological warfare in lectures and speeches by Valerii Zaluzhnyi, the former Commander-in-Chief. Mr. Redis has also raised this issue, stating that UGVs are what we must gravitate toward and develop.
Yes, because with the development of drones, logistics began to become more complicated. Both infantry logistics and, in principle, any logistics. That is, bringing fuel, some ammunition, additional drones, batteries, and so on to the guys at a UAV position by vehicle is sometimes quite impossible now due to enemy control over logistical routes. Therefore, all this is done by UGVs because they are less noticeable, they are smaller, and you can transport some 300-400 kilograms of payload over 40-50 kilometers. That is the first point. Secondly, you do not risk a driver, you do not risk a navigator who would have to drive this vehicle. If a UGV gets blown up, well, so be it; another one will arrive, hook it up, or push it out of a hole, and they will move on. And this is something without which logistics will now be quite severely complicated. That is the first thing—UGVs. And the second is delivery by heavy aerial bomber drones, like the Vampire, Heavy Shot, and so on. That is, the payload capacity is slightly smaller there, but you can deliver directly to the front line, meaning to the guys at infantry positions. Since logistics are currently complicated, again, there is no opportunity to conduct rotations among the infantry on the front line very often, as was the case before, say, every 7 or 10 days. Now, this period is increasingly extended, purely because the troops are currently suffering fewer casualties while serving in positions, but are taking more casualties specifically during rotational movements. And to avoid them, even some infantrymen say, "You're better off just dropping us some food, water, some radio batteries, and power banks for our phones, and we will stay here a bit longer, wait for favorable weather conditions to conduct a rotation." In other words, it is all evolving precisely because strike drones are evolving. The more FPV drones and strike fixed-wing drones evolve, the more UGVs will evolve as well, because one is intrinsically linked to the other.
In your opinion, what can we teach our Western colleagues, who have finally realized that drones, as it turns out, are not toys, but very serious weapons?
I know I have had interviews with your colleagues, but from other units, where they mention that, for example, the Germans, the German military, now very often ask for practical advice on what to do if such hypothetical swarms of drones were to fly toward a hypothetical Munich.
Well, as practice has shown with the conflicts in Israel and so on, when our representatives were specifically invited to establish an aerial system...
In the Middle East, right?
In the Middle East, yes. In order to establish air defense using drones, they essentially need to adopt our experience as a whole. Because the majority of their army is used to fighting guys with beards, wearing robes and flip-flops, who don't know what electronic warfare (EW) is, and so on. That is what we encountered. Back in 2023, when I was the commander of the Technical Reconnaissance Company, I received a large batch of American Parrot Anafi drones, but there's a catch. Not a single one of them flew anywhere in the combat zone without additional modification. This is because they are used to flying in conditions that are ideal for them. That means GPS; translating to our realities, it is like launching a drone somewhere in the middle of a field in the Lviv region. There, it will perform perfectly.
In such sterile conditions, right?
Yes, yes. That is the first major point. The second is that most American doctrines, even now, show that when they deploy their military camps, they primarily rely on above-ground structures, meaning gabions, containers, and so on. All of this would be wiped out by two or three FPV drone crews in a matter of hours. They need to remember what it means to dig and what engineering fortification entails, because there is no other way. When anything that sees you from above can kill you, you have to go underground, dig communication trenches, and devise new methods to do this faster in order to minimize infantry involvement. Overall, with the advent of drones, absolutely all doctrines must change. Take assault doctrines, for instance. Three or four skilled FPV crews with an adequate ammunition supply can stop mechanized columns. If they also have surveillance that allows them to detect these columns 20, 30, or 40 km from the line of contact, then (the columns - ed.) will be stopped around the 10-km mark. They won't even make it within 10 km of the line of contact. Therefore, the tactics themselves must be revised. What the enemy is doing now, specifically in our sector, is switching from mechanized assaults with equipment columns to infiltration. Using weather conditions or favorable factors, such as summer foliage, what we call "greenery", they use the greenery to infiltrate deep into combat formations and sow chaos. In other words, when you have an enemy sitting deep in your rear for a long time, they must be eliminated. They can simply report on the movement of your groups to have them targeted, or they can sit on logistics routes themselves and pick off infantry who would not even expect an engagement at such depth. This can also negatively affect UAV operators in their positions. The adversary has adapted to this drone warfare. They deploy infantry during bad weather or use motorcycles and ATVs to bring infantry closer for a subsequent dash. Mechanized assaults still occur, but they usually do not end in success due to the significant UAV component.
Beyond these points, what are the enemy's advantages?
Primarily in numbers, because there are 140 million of them compared to our 40 million. They prepare children from an early age for the fact that they will have to fight. In other words, they are already looking five to seven years ahead, preparing a mobilization resource to constantly replenish their military.
Moreover, they create very creative advertisements and offers. I recently saw an ad for one of the large factories that assembles drones. A young girl stands there and says, "I earn 150,000 rubles here, come join us." It is quite an enticing offer if you have no other prospects.
Even if you do have prospects. They have also realized that they need to attract people who will develop this field. They saw that we managed to take an experienced unit manager from "Madyar’s Birds" and make him the commander of the Unmanned Systems Forces to drive this theme forward. Consequently, they began looking for similar directions within their own ranks. They are moving away from old-school Soviet generals who act strictly by the book and are trying to find younger people to develop this sector. They copy our solutions in almost everything. At a place like Alabuga Polytech, they don't just manufacture drones; they also train pilots. Their development will eventually lead to them having remote control capabilities as advanced as ours. In a couple of years, they will likely come up with their own version of Starlink.
The Chinese will help, right?
The Chinese help them all the time, at the very least with their DJI drones, and that continues now. They will simply continue to expand and scale this. They are very successful at it. Scaling any successful solution is a strength of theirs. For instance, if a certain UAV, UAS like 'Molniya' proves successful, they scale it up. Now it's not just a strike wing; they can use it for remote mining, or turn it into a "mothership" for FPV drones and such.
What can our counteractions be to this scaling?
Destroying their factories, destroying production capacities, and conducting sabotage operations to eliminate the leading engineers who innovate in this field. On a less global scale, it means targeting the pilots themselves at their positions in the combat zone. You can burn a warehouse with a thousand drones, but they will bring another thousand in a few days. However, if you eliminate several crews that operate these drones, it will be much harder for them to train new people who can work effectively.
And with combat experience.
And with combat experience. Teaching someone simply to fly a drone is not a problem. But teaching them how to employ the system correctly takes a much longer time.
Mr. Kraft, let’s conclude by discussing the peace aspect. Many people are talking about peace negotiations and what kind of peace it will be. Specifically for you, as someone serving in Azov who survived both captivity and Olenivka, and defended Mariupol—what does victory mean to you? How do you envision it?
First and foremost, having all my brothers-in-arms back home would already be a "micro-victory." In general, however, I believe this conflict will drag on for quite a long time. Again, remember that they are already preparing a replacement mobilization resource several years in advance. If they don't succeed here, they are already starting to talk about a "Narva People's Republic" and initiating similar schemes in Europe. In other words, victory will only come when they see us as an opponent they cannot defeat by any means. Only when we are in a position to fully dictate our terms will it be a success. Any kind of one-year truce would simply provide them with more opportunities to prepare. In a year, they could build another Mannerheim Line, and that’s it. You would simply encase drone operators' bunkers in concrete, build underground communication passages, and there would be no way to break through with existing resources. In principle, if there were a truce, we should do the same. But for us, this is a completely unfavorable option, let's put it that way, because we do not possess such a vast human resource. It would just be stepping on the same rake all over again, like in 2022, when they simply overwhelmed us with numbers. Therefore, a temporary truce is absolutely not an option for us. We need a resolution once and for all.
In light of this, let’s conclude our conversation: what should Ukrainians who live in Ukraine and have firmly decided that Ukraine is their land prepare for?
For the fact that over the next decade, one way or another, whether there are truces or not, we will still have to prepare for war. I do not believe they will stop here; it is not just about Donbas or Crimea. They clearly want to reunite the territories of the Soviet Union to project their power and prove they are the "sole descendants," as they claim. To preserve our identity, our culture, and our history, which they would rewrite regardless, removing all figures favorable to us and replacing them with their own, and to ensure the survival of the nation and the country itself, we must be prepared. This means engaging in tactical medicine, or even just non-tactical first aid, possessing basic weapons handling skills, and supporting the military by aiding trusted units. This is essential so that we can continue doing what we are doing now. Lately, we have been quite successful across the front line in eliminating the enemy—personnel, equipment, drones, and the like. This will continue to develop and escalate over time. It simply requires both the human resources to implement and apply these methods, as well as certain material resources.
Understood. Friends, sign up for medical courses, as it is very important. As practice shows, even in the rear, one must know how to properly stop bleeding and provide first aid. Thank you very much for the conversation. I would like to remind you that we were joined by Ihor "Kraft" Vovk, Major and commander of the 6th Special Purpose Battalion of the 12th Special Purpose Brigade "Azov."
