As darkness closed in, the drones kept coming and the troops kept trying – sending tracer fire streaking across the sky. But how do they feel when these suicide drones get through?
“Well, it’s not very good, “Jaeger says sombrely, glancing away. “You feel a slight sadness but to be honest – as you have seen – you don’t have time for emotions. One comes in and another can come right behind it. You work in this rhythm. If it’s taken down – good, if not, you know there are other teams behind you who will also engage it.”
He and his men are a “mobile fire unit” from Ukraine’s 117 Territorial Defence Brigade – all locals trying to defend not just their hometown but their country. Most Russian drones fly through this region and deeper into Ukraine.
“They come in massive waves, often flying at different altitudes,” says Jaeger. “When there is heavy cloud cover, they fly above the clouds, and we can’t see them. And it’s very hard to detect them when it’s raining.”
A hundred Shahed drones a night is standard for Sumy.
His unit includes a farmer (“now I do something else in the fields,” he jokes) and a builder. Jaeger himself is a former forest ranger, and mixed martial arts fighter.
Now he fights an enemy he can barely see.
“It’s the same thing every single day, over and over again,” he says. “For us, it’s just like Groundhog Day.”
“The worst thing is that years are passing by,” adds Kurban, the builder, “and we have no idea how long all this is going to last”.