'True Fear.' A Day on Ukraine's Drone Wall, Holding Off Hordes of Russian War Bikers.

War correspondent David Kirichenko and filmmaker Ryan Van Ert survive a bloody clash in eastern Ukraine.

This is another special one, folks—a dispatch from the front line in Ukraine by roving war correspondent David Kirichenko. Support David’s dangerous work by subscribing to Trench Art. The revenue from all subs to this story go straight to David.

A soldier from the Unmanned Systems Battalion of Ukraine’s 110th Separate Mechanized Brigade prepares the explosives on an FPV drone. David Kirichenko photo.

by DAVID KIRICHENKO

Past midnight in near-total darkness, Andrii prepares for a resupply run to a drone unit on the 700-mile front line of Russia’s 42-month wider war on Ukraine.

Andrii, call sign “Drunya,” is a driver for the Unmanned Systems Battalion of Ukraine’s 110th Separate Mechanized Brigade. He loads a pickup truck with first-person-view drones and explosives. His truck is fitted with a radio-jammer to guard against incoming enemy FPVs.

Once the truck is ready, the dash to the front begins. Along the roads leading to the front line, trucks, civilian vehicles and heavy armor crawl forward under makeshift cages and welded plating—protection against the ever-present drone threat.

It’s a scene from Mad Max, but it’s also a stark reflection of how small, cheap drones have reshaped modern warfare.

With me is Ryan Van Ert, a filmmaker from Los Angeles. We met on a previous trip to Ukraine—and he decided to join this mission. Last year, I spent nearly a week embedded with a drone unit in Chasiv Yar, getting as close as two miles to Russian lines.

But in the past year, the kill zone has expanded greatly; now, anything within nine miles of the front is fair game for enemy drones. Before setting out, Andrii warns us: if the truck stops for any reason, don’t bother grabbing anything—just run for cover under the nearest treeline.

Wearing body armor and helmets, we speed down pitted country roads. In the passenger seat, a soldier keeps his rifle ready, prepared to shoot down any enemy FPVs that dive toward us. Fiber-optic FPVs lying in wait along the roadside have become a deadly hazard for both sides.

Andrii cues up music on the bluetooth speaker, each song somehow amplifying the tension in the air. I stare out the window, imagining Russian drones circling above, watching us from the darkness.

As we near the front, Andrii switches off the headlights, slips on his night-vision goggles—and drives the rest of the way in pitch black.