Misha, the Ukrainian drone operator: from philosophy to the front — an identity forged in the inferno of war

Kyiv, 18 May 2026 — At twenty-six, Misha embodies a generation of Ukrainians who traded university lecture halls for the trenches of the Donbas. His trajectory — from philosophy studies in Kyiv to relentless combat — is that of a man searching for himself in one of the twenty-first century’s most technological and brutal conflicts. Meet a soldier for whom war has become, all at once, a means of self-discovery, a trial of endurance, and a reason to live.

A youth between books and drones

Misha was only nineteen when, in 2019, he decided to enlist in Ukraine’s 36th Separate Marine Brigade. Fresh from a philosophy degree at the University of Kyiv, he was seeking something far beyond patriotic duty. “I wanted to prove things to myself, to discover who I was, to find my own identity,” he says. At the time, the war in the Donbas, though lethal, retained a strange normalcy. “It was pretty chill,” he recalls with a wry smile. “We had time to step out for a cigarette, to eat kebabs on the front line.” An era that has, sadly, vanished. Today the intensity at the front is of another order entirely: assaults come one after another without pause, artillery fire and drones paralyse every movement, and firepower has multiplied beyond recognition.

His first rotation into the “kill zone” came in 2021, with the Joint Forces Operation. “That was the most striking period of the war. Everyone supported one another, pulled together in the face of the Russians.” Then the escalation of 2022 changed everything.

2022: the inferno of Mariupol and Russian captivity

Since 24 February 2022 and the onset of Russia’s full-scale invasion, the war has taken on a wholly different magnitude. The Donbas is no longer the sole theatre of fighting. The threat has spread across the entire country, turning every Ukrainian city — wherever it lies — into a potential target where death can strike at any moment.

On the front, the intensity of combat and the firepower deployed now surpass anything that came before. These days, “even going to the toilet can be dangerous.” Enemy drones can pinpoint a position within five minutes, instantly unleashing deadly strikes. “It’s almost safer to move on foot than by vehicle, because it’s more discreet.” Since drones saturated the sky, every movement has become a calculation of risk. But above all, the very art of war has changed. This remains a war of position — trenches, infantry assaults — yet its geography has widened: the “kill zone” now extends some ten kilometres behind the line of contact. The drone has forced a complete overhaul of combat practice, calling into question the very use of armoured vehicles, while the soldier’s most elementary gestures — advancing, moving, simply progressing — have become more perilous than ever.

In this new war, Misha fought on several fronts in southern Ukraine, most notably in the battle of Mariupol. The fighting there was of unimaginable ferocity: artillery strikes, massive aerial bombardment, and a deepening scarcity of ammunition, food and medical supplies. On 2 March, the city was encircled. The defenders fell back into the industrial zones — Azovstal and the Illich factories — to hold out against the Russian forces. Misha and his unit were tasked with holding and defending the Illich steelworks against the relentless Russian onslaught. The fighting was savage, and with each passing day Russian pressure grew dangerously on these last bastions of resistance.

On 12 April 2022, after weeks of fierce resistance, Misha and several brothers-in-arms were captured by the Russian army.

“For seven months, I was beaten morning and night as they tried to extract information from me. [...] I lost twenty kilogrammes.”

Freed in a prisoner exchange, he briefly considered giving up. “The exhaustion was immense.” But thanks to his comrades and his strength of mind, he found the strength he needed — and decided to return. “For revenge.”

Rebirth through the drones

After six months of rehabilitation, Misha went back to war. He fought in numerous battles across the Zaporizhzhia region, where his unit sent around ten drones a day against Russian positions. In June 2023, he took part in the Ukrainian counter-offensive, his unit becoming one of the first to deploy FPV drones on the front. “At that point, we held the advantage,” he explains. “The Russians didn’t yet have the technical means to stop us from flying.” That freedom, he recalls, made him highly effective at the front: to his credit, three Russian tanks destroyed and countless missions accomplished.

In 2024, he transferred to an artillery unit — a new stage, and a still higher degree of intensity. He fought at Pokrovsk, where the brutality of the fighting was extreme even by the standards of this war. He later travelled to Poland for training on NATO equipment. But in 2025, the front called him back. Wounded in late 2025, he was evacuated to Kharkiv for another period of rehabilitation. Today, in 2026, he is still recovering.

Fear, the daily companion

Asked whether he has ever feared dying, Misha answers without hesitation: “Yes. Once, at Mariupol. We were moving at night in a landing vehicle, thirty of us on board. The fear of drones was everywhere — especially when you couldn’t see anything outside. When we arrived, we had to act fast, because they spotted us in the blink of an eye. Then the bombardment rained down. Some shells fell very close…”

He pauses, then resumes, as if the thread of that memory were leading him to a more intimate conclusion: “And yet — I’m still alive, and whole.”

But the border between civilian life and the front has never truly left him. One evening, as we drove through Kyiv with music blasting, he confessed his longing to return to the fight, to help his brothers-in-arms. The same music that scored our civilian drives was, for him, still resonating with the roads of Mariupol. The fear of dying he had described to me has not turned him away from the front; it simply coexists with his desire to go back.

This testimony tells the story of a soldier who sacrificed everything to defend his country and his people. It tells the story of a young man who traded the university bench for the inferno of war, to stand against the Russian aggressor and to prove things to himself. That higher resolve — to take up arms for the freedom of his country — mirrors the Ukrainian people as a whole, whose implacable resilience has led them to stand against the Russian ogre in its pursuit of power and domination, so as to secure a better future for the generations to come.

A war without end?

When the conversation turns to the possible scenarios for this war, Misha’s gaze darkens. He sees no clear end to the conflict. “It’s a war of position. It isn’t moving, and for now there’s no way out.” As for Ukraine’s future five years from now, he admits his uncertainty: “I have no idea. That’s for the politicians to handle.” His own dream is of a Ukraine that is sovereign and neutral between the two blocs that surround it — neither European nor Russian, but sovereign, united and free.

And after the war?

Despite the horror, Misha still holds on to his dreams. “I’d love to do a road trip through Europe — Italy, Malta, Greece, Switzerland.” But his ambition reaches further: he wants to serve his people and help build a Ukraine that is more united, free and democratic. As these lines go to press, he is on his way to Europe to fulfil that first dream, and to grant himself a well-earned personal truce — this fighter who gave himself to the survival of his people.

As Ukraine enters its fifth year of war, soldiers like Misha keep fighting — no longer only for their country, but for themselves. “I still don’t know what I’ll do afterwards,” he admits. “But one thing is certain: this war taught me who I am.”