Impressions from the field research trip to Ukraine – October 2025

Almost two weeks ago, I returned from another field research trip to Ukraine. Below are some of the key observations. Before getting to them, however, it is worth recalling the main takeaway from my July trip.

I returned from that visit with a somewhat more cautious view of Ukraine’s defensive prospects. At the time, Ukraine was already struggling to counter increasingly organised Russian drone-employment tactics, spearheaded primarily by Rubicon. Rubicon was eroding the only tentative advantage Ukraine still possessed—its drones. Until mid-2025, Russian UAV activity focused mainly on targeting Ukrainian troops near the FLOT, while Ukrainians tried to strike Russian forces before they could engage. Rubicon changed this pattern entirely: operating 10–20 km into the rear, it now targets not only support elements—many of which rely heavily on UAVs—but also the core capabilities Ukraine depends on for its defence.

Since then, Russian employment of drones has continued to evolve. Manoeuvre formations now use better-organised UAV-supported tactics, engaging Ukrainian units up to 10 km deep while Rubicon maintains pressure on the rear. This has created a dynamic in which Ukrainian losses among logistics personnel and drone crews now exceed those among infantry—though it must be stressed that infantry numbers are heavily depleted.

In theory, mobilisation continues to generate a respectable number of personnel each month, but this has no discernible effect on the frontline. The reasons are structural, organisational, and deeply rooted in the Ukrainian system. AWOL cases, according to Ukrainian reporting, continue to rise. While many soldiers eventually return, nothing suggests this problem will be resolved in the near term.

For Russia, infiltration tactics continue to play a central role. Small groups constantly probe for weaknesses, exploiting any gap rather than pushing against strong resistance. Once a patch of terrain is secured, motor rifle troops move in to consolidate. Assault detachments are larger than doctrinal norms, and high-performing regiments increasingly form the backbone of offensive efforts, while regular formations take on supporting roles.

Russian special-purpose units, including GRU elements, often move through rear areas in civilian clothing before switching back to standard kit. Drone-delivered radios allow infiltrated groups to operate on fresh frequencies, limiting the intelligence value of any equipment Ukraine manages to capture.

Russian drone capability has expanded significantly. Regular units now fly large numbers of FPVs, including extended-range wire-guided variants, and employ increasingly sophisticated EW. Shaheds—now increasigly used tactically—are far more effective than last year due to improved tactics and onboard systems. Better coordination between Russian UAVs and EW has steadily squeezed Ukrainian kill zones and pushed drone operators deeper into the rear.

Russian artillery retains advantage. Their guns sit well beyond Ukrainian counter-battery range, enabling continuous speculative fires against areas of interest—particularly drone and logistics hubs—while Ukrainian units fire only at confirmed targets.

Russian morale remains uneven, and their tactics often produce heavy casualties, yet they still show tactical adaptability and remain intent on sustaining operations. September was the first month in which many regions failed to meet their recruitment quotas, though it remains unclear whether this reflects a shortage of volunteers or a deliberate slowdown in recruitment after annual targets were already reached before September (or will soon be meet with slowdowned requirement).

Viewed as a whole, the evidence points to a widening gap. Ukraine’s defensive system—built around drones, decentralised fires, and interdiction—is being worn down by Russian infiltration methods, expanding UAV capacity, and sustained aviation strikes. Without the ability to strike deeper, disrupt Russian rear areas, or stabilise key sectors such as Huliapole and Pokrovsk with properly resourced formations, Ukraine’s capacity to hold ground will continue to erode.

These issues are now becoming clearly visible along several axes. Russian gains are accelerating around Lyman (now at risk of partial encirclement and likely to be one of the most critical sectors this winter), Sieversk, north of Velyka Novosilka, and—most concerning—north of Huliapole. Since July, Russian forces have pushed 20–25 km into Ukrainian lines between Huliapole and Pokrovske, raising the possibility of an eventual encirclement of the former. More than half of Russia’s territorial gains in Ukraine are now concentrated on the Velyka Novosilka and Huliapole axes, even though these two sectors account for only 17% of all recorded Russian ground assaults. The discrepancy underscores the extent to which limited pressure is yielding disproportionate results.

This is the second time Russia has capitalised on increasingly thin Ukrainian lines. Near Dobropylia in June, Ukrainian forces halted Russian advances only through emergency redeployment—predictably allowing Russia to seize ground in areas those units had vacated. This time, with Pokrovsk serving as Ukraine’s centre of gravity and the battle for the city viewed domestically as proof that Ukraine is not losing the war, Kyiv may lack the resources to respond effectively. Unless halted, Russian advances here could have consequences far more serious than the fall of Pokrovske or Konstantynivka.

On the other hand, Russia’s choice of tactics prevents it from achieving rapid territorial gains, as advances are limited by the pace of infantry moving on foot or motorbikes. As a result, an operational-level breakthrough appears unlikely. Moreover, as seen recent Ukrainian counterattacks, Russian forces—despite advancing—often operate with low force density. This enables relatively small Ukrainian units, such as a company or battalion, to push the FLOT back significantly when supported by enablers such as drones, electronic warfare, and artillery. The main challenge, as always, lies in sustaining these gains given Russia’s dominance in drones and artillery, and Ukraine’s lack of reserves to exploit tactical successes.

Meanwhile, Ukrainian attacks on Russian infrastructure will not only continue but will almost certainly increase in scope and density. In July, Ukraine launched a single OWA-UAV strike on a critical infrastructure target inside Russia. In October, there were 40 such attacks, and by mid-November the number had already reached 31. As more missiles (Long Neptun, FP-5) and drones become available, Russian critical infrastructure will continue to suffer. From Ukraine’s perspective, a key priority is the ability to deliver projectiles with sufficient payloads supported by enough launch platforms to sustain a high salvo rate.

Russia is taking countermeasures—building a more robust sensor network, mobilising civilians for CUAV duties, and improving local air-defence responses—but these moves are unlikely to fully offset Ukraine’s growing capacity to mount massed, distributed, and persistent strikes.

I would like to end on a cautious but positive note. There are many examples of Ukrainian ingenuity at the tactical level. In many situations, Ukrainian units perform impressively despite limited resources. They often demonstrate greater imagination, adaptability, and problem-solving than Russians, and this creativity continues to produce new tools, methods, and battlefield solutions. There is some hope that these approaches will spread more widely across the ground forces over time. The main obstacles Ukraine faces are not a lack of tactical innovation, but rather organisational and bureaucratic barriers that prevent effective ideas from scaling to the operational level.