Seen from above, the shapes were unmistakeable. A group of Russian soldiers were advancing on foot. They were moving stealthily across an expanse of fields and scrubby trees. “We couldn’t believe our eyes,” Viktor, a Ukrainian drone operator, said. “The attack happened 10 days ago. They didn’t bring any tanks or armoured vehicles.”
The troops – about 40 of them – had been sent across the southern frontline, not far from the Ukrainian-held village of Huliaipilske. Viktor sent their coordinates back to base. Another unit hit them with mortars. The glassy winter landscape offered little cover. Many Russians died. The others retreated, dragging the injured with them.
Similar forays take place every few days, typically involving five or six men. It was, Viktor said, “a new tactic”. Were these incursions brave or foolhardy? “There’s not a huge amount of point, but they are not entirely senseless. Armoured vehicles are noisy. Sometimes the enemy succeeds, mostly it doesn’t. It means we can never relax,” he said.
Viktor’s special air intelligence unit – known by the name Vortex – operates from a line of forward trenches dug around Huliaipilske. Once home to 1,000 people, the village is now a ghostly wreck. Roofless apartment blocks line Larenkova, one of three residential avenues. A twisted Grad missile sits in the snow, next to a dead dog and a child’s Minions-themed slipper.
The Russians are less than two miles away. From time to time there is a percussive boom from somewhere over the white horizon. Last spring, Russian soldiers briefly seized the neighbouring settlement of Novoselivka before retreating down the road. They confused it with another village of the same name in the eastern Donetsk province, locals said.
“They shell us every day,” resident Vanya Firsov recounted. “The Russians are katsapi (butchers), swine, and rats.” By way of proof, Firsov showed off the village’s ravaged medical clinic. Missiles had transformed it into a dust and debris-filled ruin. “It had just been renovated,” Firsov said. He held up a piece of metal chimney lying in the garden and pointed out the cottage across the road, hit by three Grads.
About 20 civilians remain in the village, previously known by the Soviet name Komsomolske. Since March it has had no electricity or gas. The main employer – a turkey farm – shut after Russia’s invasion. Firsov said he was feeding a pack of dogs abandoned by their owners. Huliaipilske’s non-human population includes a colony of feral pigeons and blue tits. The only other people to be seen were Ukrainian servicemen, sawing pine logs for fuel.
It is unclear if Russia is capable of mounting a decisive offensive here, or anywhere else. In the east, Russian forces have been slowly grinding forward. So far, they have made only incremental gains, including several villages in the north-east on the Russian border. Their top priority is the capture of Bakhmut, where fighting has raged for months. A knockout blow by Moscow seems increasingly unlikely.
The war may yet be decided in the sunflower fields in the south, currently covered by snow. Both sides have built deep defensive positions along a frontline that snakes through Zaporizhzhia oblast. If Russia is to encircle Ukraine’s eastern army, concentrated in the garrison cities of Kramatorsk and Sloviansk, it needs to break through in Huliaipilske and to sweep north.
The same flat terrain, meanwhile, is the most likely theatre for a Ukrainian counteroffensive. Military analysts expect this to happen in late March or April. The goal would be to break through Russian lines and to liberate the occupied city of Melitopol. According to Russian bloggers, mercenary reinforcements from the Wagner group were recently bussed into the city to stop that from happening.
In theory, if Melitopol fell, Ukrainian forces would then be able to advance in two separate directions. They could go east towards the port of Mariupol, lost to Russia in spring 2022 following a murderous siege. And they could roll west into the Russian-held southern chunk of Kherson province along the left bank of the Dnipro River. This would take the Ukrainian army to Crimea.
For now, the situation is one of stalemate. Last weekend, snowstorms meant it was impossible to see more than a few hundred metres, let alone mount a meaningful advance. Among Ukrainian soldiers, there was a sense of optimism, swelled by US president Joe Biden’s historic visit on Monday to Kyiv. A year after Vladimir Putin launched his full-scale invasion on 24 February, they voiced a belief that victory was coming closer.
“Look at the whole story. At the beginning the enemy was much stronger than us and way more powerful,” Viktor – who goes by the callsign “Lucky” – said. “Since then, we have retrieved a lot of our territory. Now we have a good chance of further success on the battlefield.” He emphasised: “We are tactically flexible. We don’t have to stay in a fixed position. We can move around.”
A boom erupted in the distance. “It’s a long way off,” Viktor explained cheerfully. “Not even worth thinking about.” He said his volunteer unit had spent much of last year on the border of Kherson province, and had taken part in November in the liberation of the city from its Russian occupiers. In January, his unit was sent to the Zaporizhzhia front, as part of an apparent build-up of Ukrainian forces.
Andriy Veldymanov – an officer with Ukraine’s 108th brigade – said his company was based in Huliaipilske. Could the Russians punch through? “They try and push forward to our positions. I would say they meet serious opposition,” he replied in English. Would western tanks make a difference? “They would help us, obviously. But we have our own tanks. Taking back our country is not a dream.”
Even if the shooting stops there seems little prospect that the village’s inhabitants will be able return to their old lives. A projectile had left a large circular hole in the side of a two-storey concrete housing block. Drapes fluttered through gaping holes. Agricultural land lay abandoned. It was too dangerous to harvest the local berry patch. Neighbouring towns including Orikhiv and Huliaipole are shelled too.
Michael – a young web developer from Odesa – said he had formed a strong bond over the last year with other members of his drone unit. “We are brothers in arms,” he asserted. He added: “Before February 24 it was like world war one. Now it’s world war two but more intelligent. They have more troops. We are more professional. We need to think, to dive deeper. I think smarter will win.”
If Ukraine was David in the Bible story, could it beat the Russian Goliath? “We are definitely the small guy against the big guy,” Michael conceded. “But the small guy has a lot of tricks.”
