Ukrainian Drones STRIKE Russian Boat – Then THIS Happened…

Ukrainian Drones STRIKE Russian Boat – Then THIS Happened…

At 0414 local time on June 24th, 2025, a Russian Cerna class landing craft with 30 troops was heading for the western shore of Kersonen, completely unaware they’d been tracked for the past 27 minutes by a Turkish-made drone lurking at 18,000 ft. In exactly 90 seconds, a seemingly routine combat operation would turn into one of the most critical turning points of the war. The Badactar TB2 had launched from a concealed position near Mikolav at 0200 when the Black Sea was nothing but darkness and Russian radar operators were fighting to stay awake. This wasn’t some jerryrigged commercial drone. The TB2 represented Turkeykey’s answer to the Predator, a flying surveillance platform that could stay airborne for 27 hours straight. Its Rotax 912 engine, the same one that powers light civilian aircraft, pushed it through the night at a leisurely 70 knots. Why rush when you’ve got all night to hunt, right? The drone’s route to the target area was a masterclass in exploiting radar gaps. Instead of flying directly, it traced a path that kept it at least 50 km from known Russia S300 sites. The operators knew from bitter experience that while the TB2’s radar cross-section was small, about the size of a large bird, getting cocky around Russian air defenses was a quick way to create a $5 million paper weight. By 0330, the TB2 had reached its patrol station, a rectangular box of airspace 40 km long and 20 km wide, positioned to cover the main maritime approaches to Kersian. At 18,000 ft, its Westcam MX-15D sensor ball could see everything. This Canadianbuilt electrooptical system wasn’t just a camera. It was a multisspectral imaging suite that could read a license plate from 20 km away. In infrared mode, it turned the cold black sea into a canvas where any heat source stood out like a flashlight in a coal mine. The operator, sitting in a ground control station that resembled a gaming setup more than a military outpost, settled in for what could be hours of watching empty water. The TB2 flew its program pattern autonomously while he monitored the sensor feed, switching between visual and thermal imaging every few minutes to avoid missing anything. This was the reality of drone warfare. 99% boredom, 1% pure adrenaline. But tonight, those odds were about to go up significantly. At 0347, something interesting appeared on the thermal display. A hot spot moved west at about 30 knots, leaving a warm wake that glowed white against the cold black sea. The operator zoomed in and the blob resolved into the distinctive shape of a project 11770 Cerniclass landing craft. These 26 m boats were the workh horses of the Russian amphibious operations. fast shallow draft vessels that could deliver 92 fully equipped troops or a main battle tank right onto the beach. But here’s what made this contact special. It wasn’t alone. The TB2 sensors picked up two more vessels following about 5 km behind. A convoy meant this wasn’t just a routine patrol or supply run. The operator tagged the contacts and started recording, knowing that every pixel of footage might matter later. The lead Cerna was making good speed. Its water jet propulsion system allowing it to plane across the calm sea like a speedboat. Through the thermal imager, the operator could see hot spots on deck. Human heat signatures. He counted at least two dozen, probably more packed inside. These weren’t sailors. Their movement patterns and equipment suggested infantry. At 0410, the tactical picture became crystal clear. The convoy was heading directly for a stretch of beach 8 km west of Kersonen, the same spot where Ukrainian forces had reported suspicious activity the week before. The operator reached for a secure phone. Whatever the Russians were planning, they were about to have company they couldn’t see coming. At 0415, after 27 minutes of patient stalking, the Ukrainian operator received three words that would seal the landing craft’s fate. Cleared to engage. The authorization came from the 383rd UAV Brigade’s operation center where senior officers had been watching the same feed. It wasn’t a decision made lightly. Every mammal missile cost $70,000 and the TB2 only carried four. More importantly, attacking here would reveal that Ukraine had drone coverage this far south, potentially compromising future operations. But the value of knocking out that convoy heading for Kersonen’s beaches outweighed the risks. The operator immediately began setting up his attack run. The Cerna was now 15 km from shore. Still maintaining 30 knots and a steady course of 330°. In the drone business, predictable targets were dead targets. He selected the lead vessel. Take out the lead element first, creating maximum confusion. The TB2’s autopilot suddenly received new instructions. Break from the patrol pattern and position for optimal weapons release. The drone banked left, beginning a wide arc that would put it directly behind the Russian convoy. This wasn’t just about getting in range. The mammal worked best when fired along the target’s axis of movement, minimizing the correction needed during flight. Through his monitor, the operator watched the Russian vessel grow larger. The West Cam’s 15x optical zoom brought him close enough to see individual crew members moving on deck. Most were clustered near the stern, probably trying to stay out of the wind. Classic mistake. Bunching up just made the missiles job easier. He could see their equipment now. Tactical vests, helmets, assault rifles. Definitely not a supply run. The mammal, an acronym in Turkish that translates to smart micro mmunition, is a marvel of miniaturization. Weighing just 22 kg, it packed a 10 kilogram warhead that could punch through light armor or in this case turn a boat superructure into confetti. The missile used semi-active laser homing, meaning the TB2 would need to keep its laser designator on target throughout the flight. At 8 km, the minimum range for a good shot. That meant 43 seconds of steady fly. At 0430, something changed on the Russian boat. Through the thermal imager, the operators saw crew members moving to the bow, setting up what looked like a heavy machine gun mount. Were they expecting trouble, or was this standard procedure for approaching a hostile shore? Either way, the operator wasn’t going to wait around to find out. The operator made a final check of his systems. Laser designator operational. Missile status green across the board. Weather conditions ideal with less than 5 knots of wind at altitude. The only concern was a bank of clouds moving in from the west, but at current speeds, they wouldn’t be a factor for another hour. He designated the target, placing the crosshairs directly on the Cernus Bridge. The laser rangefinder instantly calculated distance, 12.7 km, and closing. Still too far, the mammal could theoretically reach out to 14 km when dropped from altitude, but accuracy degraded beyond 8. He’d wait. The minutes crawled by 11 km 10. The Russian boat maintained its course, oblivious to the Grim Reaper hanging 18,000 ft above. The operator noticed more details now. Communication antennas, the bolt’s hull number, and even individual weapons carried by the troops. His finger hovered over the release authorization. At 0442, range hit 8 km. The engagement envelope was perfect, but something nagged at him. Those other two boats still trailing 5 km behind. What was their purpose? Reinforcements, supplies, or were they planning something else? Then he saw it. The trailing vessels were changing course, one breaking north and one south. They were setting up a perimeter. This wasn’t just a landing. It was the start of a major operation. The operator knew it was now or never. Whatever the Russians were planning, it ended now. At 0446, the TB2 operator squeezed the trigger on his control stick. But instead of the immediate weapon release he expected, his screen flashed, warning, laser malfunction, recalibrate. His heart rate spiked. The Cerner was now 7 km from shore and beginning to slow for its approach. Every second mattered. He cycled the designator off and on. A classic turn it off and back on again that worked on everything from smartphones to million-dollar military hardware. The system ran through its self test. 5 seconds 10. Finally, laser operational. He redesated the target, but something bothered him about this landing craft’s profile. The deck was too crowded for a standard 30man infantry unit. Those extra crates strapped to the sides weren’t normal equipment, but in 43 seconds, their contents would tell the whole story. At 0447, the mammal dropped from the TB2’s hardpoint. The missile’s fins deployed immediately, and its semi-active seeker began searching for the laser energy reflecting off the target. Inside the weapon, a simple computer ran the calculations. Current altitude 18,000 ft. Target 7.8 km downrange. Impact time 43 seconds. What the operator didn’t know yet was that this landing craft was just the lead element of something much bigger. And the explosion about to happen would reveal something the Russians desperately wanted to keep hidden. 28 seconds to impact. The Cernoclass craft maintained course at 15 knots, completely unaware that a missile was falling from the sky at 250 m/s. Through his screen, the operator could see Russian troops moving on deck, some smoking and joking, others checking equipment. They had no idea these were their last moments. The TB2’s laser held steady on the bridge structure. Even the slightest wobble would send the missile off course, but the drone stabilized gimbal kept the beam locked on like a sniper scope. The operator watched the range counter tick down. 5 km 4 3. In exactly 37 seconds, a secondary explosion would reveal to Ukrainian intelligence everything they needed to know about Russia’s true intentions for cursing. 15 seconds to impact. A Russian sailor on deck suddenly pointed skyward. He’d spotted either the drone or the incoming missile. The operator could see him shouting, waving his arms, but physics doesn’t negotiate. At 185 kmh closure rate, his warning shouts were already too late. The thermal imager showed Russians scrambling across the deck. Some dove for cover behind equipment crates. Others tried to bring weapons to bear, as if small arms could stop a guided missile in terminal descent. But the operator noticed something odd. Several troops were throwing cases overboard. Why would they be doing that instead of trying to save themselves? 5 seconds. The TB2’s camera automatically zoomed in, capturing every detail in 4K resolution. Ukrainian intelligence officers watching the feedback at headquarters leaned forward. Those weren’t standard naval infantry on deck. The digital camouflage pattern was different. The equipment cases bore markings that were not normal. Whatever this mission was, it just became Ukraine’s most important intelligence find this year. Impact. The mammal struck perfectly amid ships at 0448. The primary explosion tore through the hull. The 10 kg warhead designed to penetrate light armor, making short work of the Cerna’s thin steel plating. But watch what happened at the 1.3 second mark. Those weren’t fuel tanks exploding. Those were specialized demolition charges cooking off, sending distinctive white hot jets of thermite into the night sky. The Cerna wasn’t carrying troops for a beach landing. It was carrying a sabotage team. As the landing craft broke in half, the TB2 captured something that made the operator immediately zoom in. Waterproof cases floating free from the wreckage, each marked with cerillic letters. In Moscow, someone was about to have a very bad morning, knowing that in a few hours they would probably be falling out of a window due to what had just happened. As the burning debris rained down on the Black Sea, emergency frequencies exploded with Russian traffic. But it wasn’t rescue operations they were coordinating. The TB2 operator kept his camera locked on target. Those secondary explosions weren’t ammunition cooking off. The distinctive white hot jet screamed demolition charges. Whatever the mission was, it packed enough thermite to level infrastructure. Within 90 seconds, both trailing vessels executed crash turns toward Crimea. No rescue attempt, no search pattern, just maximum speed flight. That told its own story. Operational security trumped their own people. The strategic fallout was immediate. Intercepted burst transmissions reveal emergency recalls. Satellite imagery showed vessels returning to Sevastapole. Within a week, Russian special operations in the western Black Sea simply stopped. 30 Russian operators had trained for months. Their mission ended in seconds. Bye for now.

At dawn on June 24, 2025, a Russian landing craft loaded with troops raced toward Kherson’s shore—completely unaware it had been tracked for 27 minutes by a Bayraktar TB2 drone orbiting 18,000 feet above. What followed wasn’t just another drone strike. It was a surgical elimination of a Russian special operations team, caught mid-mission and carrying demolition gear intended for targets deep in Ukrainian territory. Using a laser-guided MAM-L missile, the TB2 struck with pinpoint precision, destroying the vessel in seconds. But the real story came after the explosion. Debris revealed not only elite personnel but sabotage equipment. Within hours, Russian vessels retreated, missions were canceled, and encrypted orders flooded the airwaves. Ukraine’s drone operators didn’t just stop an amphibious assault—they shattered Russian confidence in their own secrecy. In this detailed breakdown, we cover the strike from first detection to final detonation, explore the strategic ripple effects, and show how one unmanned aircraft forced the Black Sea Fleet into full retreat. Subscribe for real-time combat analysis, modern drone warfare breakdowns, and the tactical edge defining today’s battle space.

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Credit:

Video supplied by Kyrgyzstan Presidency / Anadolu Agency via Getty Images/ Ideal Image – Clip [1359720688](tel:1359720688)

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Naval infantry exercise with BTR-82A in Baltic Sea (17-03-2020) by Ministry of Defence of the Russian Federation, licensed under CC BY 4.0.

День ВМФ с беспилотника 2018 Владивоcток – Russian Navy Show from drone by [OriginalGear](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvYXG9C2hdGLIGFTaTMBaZQ), licensed under *CC BY license*

2nd Air Defense Division’s S-400 SAMs firing at the Ashuluk Training Ground (13-04-2013) by Ministry of Defence of the Russian Federation, licensed under CC BY 4.0.

(https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2nd_Air_Defense_Division%27s_S-400_SAMs_firing_at_the_Ashuluk_Training_Ground_(13-04-2013).webm” /]

1537th Anti-Aircraft Rocket Regiment’s S-400 at the Ashuluk TG during Kavkaz 2020 exercise (22-09-2020) by Ministry of Defence of the Russian Federation, licensed under CC BY 4.0.