This Is My Home, I’m Not Going to Run: A Combat Drone Operator’s Fight for Ukraine

From Civilian Life to the Battlefield

Before the invasion, Daria was far from the world of combat. As a marketing specialist with a love for travel, she often found herself in new countries, exploring different cultures and soaking in life’s experiences. But in 2021, as she witnessed Russian military exercises along Ukraine’s border, Daria began to sense an inevitable escalation. “I could see it coming,” she explains. “It wasn’t just exercises, and I knew it. So I started preparing.”

While others around her may not have been ready to confront the signs, Daria began attending training sessions, learning military skills she hoped she would never need. She was ready to protect her home, her city, and her country. “This is my home, and I wasn’t going to run,” she states simply, embodying a commitment that would soon lead her to the front lines.

The Day the World Changed

In the days leading up to February 24, Daria sensed that things were escalating. She had a close friend, an experienced veteran. They both knew that if war erupted, he would be one of the first called up; his bag was already packed. To say goodbye—just in case—they decided to meet for coffee and took a walk together through Mariinskyi Park in Kyiv. As they strolled, he pointed upwards. "Do you hear that? It’s a military plane." They laughed it off, joking about how it could be delivering a new batch of Javelins. 

At five in the morning, Daria's mother burst into her room, panic on her face. “They’re bombing Kherson,” she said, her voice shaking. Kherson was Daria’s hometown, and she knew her relatives were only 30 or 40 kilometers from the Crimean border. It had been one of the first places to come under fire. She took her family to an aunt’s apartment on a lower floor, hoping it would be safer, and then set out alone to the military enlistment office with nothing but a small bag—just a change of clothes and some basic supplies.

At the enlistment center, she told them she was ready to mobilize. She had completed sniper training just before the invasion began and was ready to put those skills to use. When they saw her carrying a first aid kit, someone asked, “Why aren’t you a medic?” But she wanted to fight, and the small kit she carried was just for her personal use.

First Mission in Hostomel

Daria received her first order in the early days of the invasion after she’d been issued a large rifle almost as tall as herself. That evening, her unit was deployed to Hostomel, tasked with extracting Ukrainian paratroopers. They had been told the airfield was under Ukrainian control and that Russian forces were mostly cleared out.

On the way there, her unit saw an armored vehicle just ahead of them, riddled with bullets. They continued to the Antonov airfield, only to find that the situation was way different from what they’d expected. The area was not secure, and it was only later that Daria fully understood the danger. “Honestly, I don’t know how we made it out of there.”

Reflecting on that night, Daria describes a sense of emotional numbness. “It wasn’t fear or aggression—just a kind of autopilot. We did what we were told.” Their orders were to cover the Ukrainian forces and assist with extraction, but when they arrived, there was no one left to evacuate. Only months later did she learn that Hostomel was not under Ukraine’s control—it had been heavily occupied by Russian forces. “When I finally found out what was really happening that night, that’s when the fear set in—for the first time, months later.”

Drone Warfare

After the liberation of Kyiv region, Daria’s role evolved, and she took on a position as a combat drone pilot. Her task now is to guide drones to their targets, striking enemy tanks, vehicles, and equipment. “It’s an immense responsibility because if you miss the target, it could kill one of our people,” she says.

For Daria, the act of hitting a target is surprisingly detached. “When you hit a target, you don’t feel anything. You’re just focused on getting the drone back, figuring out how to do it without getting it shot down,” she explains. The real emotions come later, when she reviews the footage of her work. “You look at it and think, wow, such a big tank, and then there’s me, so small, and I destroyed it.”

The most valuable targets Daria has taken down have often been Russian tanks, equipment that holds significant worth to the enemy. “If we’re not talking about their soldiers—because for us, every life is priceless, unlike for them—then it’s definitely tanks that are the most valuable targets I’ve destroyed,” she says.

“Drones have changed the way we fight,” Daria explains. "The whole philosophy and advantage of drone systems is that you can deliver highly precise strikes while minimizing personal risk. You guide the drone directly to the target. No other weapon can achieve this level of precision. Artillery needs to adjust its aim and hope it hits the target. If we’re talking about firearms, there's a margin of error as well. But with a drone, you guide it straight to the target, and you see it right before the strike."

The amount of Ukrainian UAVs pushed Russian forces and their equipment back by 30 to 40 kilometers from the front line. “This stretches out their logistics, makes them more vulnerable. They spend more time on the road, giving us more chances to hit them.” Early in the full-scale war, drones like hers would fly within just 10 kilometers of the line of contact, striking multiple targets like tanks in a single shift. “Back then, we could go out and hit a dozen tanks in one shift,” she recalls. “Now, this almost never happens because their equipment is stationed much farther back, which is a huge advantage for our infantry, who are holding the front lines.”

The Night in Avdiivka

One of Daria’s most memorable missions took place during an intense night in Avdiivka, roughly a year ago, when Russian forces launched a large-scale assault on the city. Reflecting on the sheer magnitude of the operation, she recalls, “Our unit destroyed close to a hundred pieces of enemy equipment in a single night. Just think about that—hundreds of vehicles. Tanks, armored personnel carriers, trucks. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since.” The impact was powerful. For the Russian forces, it must have felt like hell. “I think we managed to severely demoralize and push the enemy back, even if just temporarily.”

Daria explains that typically, the sound of an approaching drone is enough to make the enemy scatter. But that night, fear overwhelmed them, and they stayed huddled in their vehicles, which allowed her unit to systematically strike them one by one. “They were so terrified that instead of running, they just buried themselves inside the vehicles, and we destroyed them. There were so many we lost count.”

“There were so many targets that sometimes if a drone started to wobble, I’d just move on to the next one 50 meters away instead. It was like a twisted game of cat and mouse where we had complete control.” Such opportunities are rare now. “Nowadays, if something shows up, every brigade sends everything they’ve got to destroy it. But that night, we had the luxury to choose our targets, and it felt like we had the upper hand.”

When asked if she thinks about the lives of the Russian soldiers, Daria sighs deeply, “Of course, I think of them as people. But I think of them as ‘temporarily living people.’ Those who invade our land have a choice: they either kill us, or we kill them.” For Daria, it’s a stark reality: “The more enemies we destroy, the more of our people stay alive. It’s a simple choice—either them or us.”

Women on the Frontline

Daria highlights a persistent issue in the military: women are often either treated too delicately or dismissed entirely. She explains that women must prove their competence, while men are assumed capable from the start due to traditional gender roles. In Daria’s view, physical abilities—not gender—should determine a soldier’s role. This perspective is more common in newly formed units, where men and women are more equally regarded and combat roles are assigned based on skill. However, in units with Soviet-style leadership, outdated attitudes persist, with women often relegated to domestic tasks and told to “stay in the kitchen.” 

While attitudes within the military are improving, challenges persist both on and off the battlefield. Daria notes, “The most dismissive attitudes I’ve seen actually come from civilians, usually from men who didn’t join the fight themselves. They’ll say things like, ‘What can a woman even do in the military?’ or imply that my position is only possible because of favoritism. But those comments speak more about them than about me.” 

When asked what men in the military can do to improve attitudes toward women, Daria’s response is clear: “Respect and equality,” she states firmly. “I can carry those same ammunition boxes and backpacks. I don’t need to be treated like some fragile flower. I knew what I was signing up for. Everyone has a role, and there’s no need to say, ‘You’re tougher because you sat in a tank, while I just flew a drone.’” She points out that a common issue is a tendency to undervalue women’s work or skills, assuming they’re less capable, which is nonsense.

Why Ukraine’s Fight Impacts Us All

Daria speaks with a sobering tone to those who live abroad and do not know the realities of war. “You’re better off not knowing what war is. It’s best if you never have to imagine it,” she says. But her caution doesn’t end there; she also urges people worldwide to be prepared. “I don’t know which countries will read this, but if you have a chance to prepare in any way, take some courses—do it,” she advises. For her, preparation isn’t about living in fear but about equipping yourself for the worst, hoping those skills will go unused. “If disaster strikes like it did here, it’ll be easier knowing you can protect yourself and your family. Buy a weapon, and learn to use it. Get a drone and practice flying it. Keep your body fit and ready for anything.”

Daria believes that if Ukraine falls, Russia will only grow bolder. “If Ukraine, the largest country in Europe, falls, what’s to stop them from turning to others? Next will be Poland, Georgia. They already have Belarus under a quiet occupation. Even Finland could be on their list.”

Asked what she dreams of, Daria’s response is simple, “I just want us to win. I want to go back to Kherson, to my home, which is currently occupied. I want to visit my grandmother’s and grandfather’s graves—they’re buried in a cemetery I can’t reach. My grandmother passed under occupation, and I never got to say goodbye.” Then, almost as if reassuring herself, she adds, “I just want to go home. Though I know, it’s not the home I remember anymore.”