Russian drone jockeys hunt front-line shop clerks and repairmen in Ukraine
Summary
Drone attacks in the city of Kherson have made any time outdoors, even for a grocery run or a cigarette break, potentially deadly.KHERSON, Ukraine—The first time a drone attacked Olha Chernishova, she was just getting home from a grocery run. As she carried the bags toward her house, she heard the telltale whirring overheard and sprinted toward the door. Before she made it inside, a grenade detonated as it hit her car, showering her with glass.
Her injuries were minor, but a few weeks later, she found herself hiding under a tree while another drone circled above. At the end of October, she watched from the window of her house while a drone dropped a grenade on a car parked nearby.
“I try to stay home as much as possible now," said Chernishova, a 38-year-old grocery-store clerk in Kherson.
Russian drones are hunting civilians in Kherson, unleashing a new kind of terror on Ukraine’s largest front-line city.
Since Ukraine retook Kherson two years ago, Russian forces just across the Dnipro River have pummeled the city with artillery, missiles and one-ton glide bombs. The central square, where tens of thousands celebrated the Russian withdrawal, is now largely abandoned, the regional administration building boarded up. Less than a quarter of the 280,000 prewar residents remain.
Though Ukraine has accused Moscow of attacking civilians with missiles and artillery throughout the war, Moscow always insists that its targets are military. But videos of the drone assaults in Kherson appear to show the intent to kill individual civilians.
In clips posted to Russian channels on social media, drones track pedestrians from above for several blocks before dropping grenades on them. Ukrainians post their own videos of drones hovering outside apartment buildings, with munitions ominously dangling from them.
Since the start of July, there were more than 7,000 drone attacks in the city, according to the regional government. Nearly 600 civilians were injured in those attacks, and 50 killed.
Ukrainian officials are unsure why the Russians have begun targeting civilians so brazenly. Locals trade theories, with some positing that the Russians might be using Kherson’s citizens as target practice for drone pilots in training.
The Russian Defense Ministry didn’t respond to a request for comment on the drone attacks.
Whatever the Russians’ motivation, the attacks are again reshaping life for Kherson’s residents, who now fear they might be personally hunted down, rather than struck randomly by a shell.
Billboards around the city warn residents of the risks of lingering outside. “If you hear a drone," one says, “immediately run for shelter."
People open doors gingerly and crane their necks upward before stepping outside. For smoke breaks, they stand under trees, hoping to stay out of view.
Chernishova said she now tries to avoid getting in cars. At least on foot, she said, she can hear a drone and run for cover.
“I can’t deal with stress now," she said. “Everything makes me anxious."
Neighborhoods close to the river, like Chernishova’s, have been hit most often. In addition, drones have dropped small anti-personnel mines in the area: Signs at the edge of a park showed pictures of how different mines might look and warned people to keep out.
“It’s become harder for people to simply move around the city," said Volodymyr Tsiktor, deputy chief of Kherson’s emergency service. Naming one of the areas near the river, he said, “It’s difficult for our teams to even get there, because the vehicle will be attacked right away."
Last month, five of his workers were on a rooftop, repairing damage from a recent artillery strike, when they heard a drone above them.
“It was only a few meters away—we had no time to react," said Henady Skripchenko, one of the workers.
The explosive FPV, or first-person view, drone smashed into the roof a few feet away from the team. The blast knocked one worker off the roof, injuring his spine. Skripchenko, 41, escaped with three shrapnel wounds to his legs.
Though the threat is highest near the river, Russian troops are barely a mile away, putting the entire city well within range of any drone.
Yelena Oleksevna, who works at a flower shop just off Kherson’s central square, said business had fallen off a cliff in recent months.
“The city center used to be really crowded," Oleksevna, 56, said. “Business started to drop this summer. I see people moving away from the river because of the threat of drones."
The pop of an explosion interrupted her. “That was a drone dropping a grenade," continued Oleksevna, who says she is now able to recognize the sounds of different munitions.
Kherson’s regional government has mounted more than 100 antidrone guns onto pickup trucks, which roam around the city.
But mostly, officials are encouraging the city’s residents to evacuate. Free housing has been set up further from the front line, with free food available to those willing to move. In-person school is offered for families who relocate further from the river.
“We’re trying to explain to people that we can’t guarantee their safety in these circumstances," said Oleksandr Tolokonnikov, a spokesman for the Kherson regional military administration. “But most people want to stay home."
At one apartment block in the Dniprovskiy neighborhood, among the closest to the river, many of the homes remained full, with children attending school entirely online.
On a warm, cloudless October afternoon, Marina Tumanyan stood in the courtyard, watching her two older children playing on the grass with several neighbors. Her youngest, just 20 days old, lay in a stroller that she rocked slowly back and forth.
She said they heard or saw drones overhead every day, and her 4-year-old son can identify different kinds of drones from the sounds.
“Now, every decision to go outside is a big decision," Tumanyan said. “Today, the lovely weather made us decide to do it."
A week earlier, her husband, a plumber, had walked out from a job to find a drone had hit his car. She knows others who have been hit, including Skripchenko, a relative through marriage.
Still, she said they didn’t plan to leave Kherson.
“It’s really complicated with three children—you have to figure out how to pay rent," she said. “People we know came back in the end."