Marichka, 50, herded cows and goats in Urozhaine village in southern Ukraine, close to Kherson city. By the fifth year of Russia’s full-scale invasion, selling milk was her only way to survive. A milk collection truck was a lifesaver. Jobs had disappeared. The last grocery store closed after a Russian drone strike. Marichka could not evacuate because she cared for her bedridden mother and, like many villagers, refused to leave her animals.In June, there was joy: a neighbor brought her hay. A simple hay delivery required a whole military operation: electronic warfare (EW) equipment, drone detectors, and a gun to shoot down Russian FPV drones. The farmer’s father was killed by a Russian FPV drone a year earlier, and the hay came from his leftover stock.Two weeks later, a drone struck the milk collection truck. Milk collection stopped. Marichka poured the milk onto the ground and fed it to stray dogs. Her business was over. People daring to drive to the village bought ten cows for $1,000. Before the war, that had been the price of one cow. The deal took only a few minutes before the truck rushed out of the village as drones approached.Soon afterward, a Russian drone attacked and injured Marichka and killed her goats.“Two arms and a leg torn off,” said her neighbour in an interview. “She is in a hospital, in a coma.”In 2025, a Russian drone killed Lora, 84, another goat herder in Kherson region, in a deliberate drone strike. Her favorite goats, including a kid, died right beside her.In nearby Kherson city, the situation is similar. Victor, a jolly man in his late 60s, was sitting outside in his yard, enjoying a cold beer on a fine summer afternoon, when an FPV drone came flying low. Two women walking down the street hid under a mulberry tree and watched the drone following Victor as he dashed for his home. Victor made it inside and was struggling to close the heavy door when the drone started throwing itself against it before blowing up, shredding the door and mortally injuring him.On August 4, Yuri, a vegetable seller, had just set up tomatoes and cucumbers at his stall and was sorting through the garlic when a Russian FPV drone descended on him, buzzing loudly, and chased Yuri in circles as if it were a game. It then detonated, injuring Yuri and damaging his van. A resident from across the street filmed the attack, and the video, shared by the local police, went viral. News channels around the world shared the video. The world finally saw the dystopian reality of Kherson. Yet, Khersonians are used to living under 24/7 drone attacks, as they have endured them for years.Russia’s human safari started in Kherson region in the summer of 2024. Small and cheap First Person View (FPV) drones targeted civilians in coastal villages and flew into Kherson city, located only a mile away from Russian positions across the river.Drones set residential blocks on fire while working in teams. One drone drops heavy objects onto private houses to make holes in the roof. The second follows closely behind, dropping napalm-like incendiary liquid loads through the holes. One high-rise building was attacked with dozens of drones over the course of a few hours, and 90% of the building was destroyed. Eight civilians burned alive, most of them seniors and people with disabilities who could not escape the fire. Extinguishing fires is a challenge because the water supply systems are also targeted and damaged, while drones target firefighters and first responders.No place is safe in Kherson. Drones are flying into apartments through windows of residential buildings, carrying cluster munitions. Taxis and public buses are hit regularly, with drivers and passengers injured and killed on a weekly basis. Very few buses are left in the city, and some districts are now accessible only on foot. In June, a drone attacked a public bus, killing Svitlana, 18, and injuring her mother, in her 50s. The family was on its way to submit Svitlana’s college documents.Grocery stores and hospitals are struck regularly. Women, children, and the elderly are the primary victims. Local hospitals accept around 20 people wounded by drones on an average day, according to doctors.Human Safari: A new tacticSmall drones have been used by the military for over a decade, but the development in Kherson, and later in other frontline cities and villages, brought the deliberate targeting of civilians to a new level.One of the most shocking elements of human safari is that Russian drone pilots can see their targets through goggles on a computer screen and proceed to hunt people as if it were a video game. Pilots steer drones, selecting targets in real time and watching them on screen. They could see Marichka and Lora with goats, Victor with his drink, and Yuri with his garlic and tomatoes. Russian social media channels post drone videos of attacks, often overlaying the footage with cheerful tunes, dehumanizing Ukrainians.Drone pilot schools in Russia send graduates to the Russian-occupied parts of Kherson region to practice on civilians, according to several confidential sources.FPV drones differ from large drones, such as Iranian-made Shaheds. Shaheds function more like missiles, while small drones, controlled by remote pilots, conduct deliberate attacks.FPV drones terrorize civilians, dropping explosives, anti-personnel mines, hazardous objects, and incendiary mixtures on residential areas. Some, called kamikaze drones, drop and detonate.Some drones carry explosives, often packed with shrapnel, creating cluster effect. Kamikaze drones self-destruct on impact.In 2025, Russians introduced fiber-optic drones, which operate on wires and are undetectable by electronic warfare, and AI-operated drones that present further challenges for detection.The Kherson Regional Military Administration installs anti-drone defensive nets to protect roads and central streets from drones. Mobile fire units use rifles and Kalashnikovs to shoot them down, but the high quantity of drones, their high speed, and their ability to maneuver make eliminating them a challenge.
Disclaimer: Views expressed above are the author’s own.