When the world’s most powerful military declares that the future of warfare will no longer be shaped by heavy tanks and armored columns, the rest of the world listens. Some watch with skepticism, others with anticipation. And a few — like Ukraine — may see opportunity.
A recent report from the Ukrainian defense news outlet Defense Express claims that the U.S. Army’s transformation strategy, designed to prepare for potential Pacific conflicts rather than European-style land wars, could unintentionally benefit Ukraine. At the center of the report is a purported letter from Glenn Dean, the executive director of the U.S. Army’s Ground Combat Systems program. While not yet confirmed by U.S. officials, the letter allegedly outlines the Army’s decision to cancel or reduce several armored vehicle programs — including halting production of the M10 Booker light tank and scaling back procurement of legacy systems like the Humvee, Stryker, and Joint Light Tactical Vehicle (JLTV).
This shift, the report suggests, could free up advanced platforms such as the Armored Multi-Purpose Vehicle (AMPV) for potential transfer to Ukraine. If true, the implications stretch far beyond the battlefield, touching on everything from global alliances to industrial policy to the future of mechanized warfare itself.
For over a decade, the U.S. Army has been preparing to pivot from counterinsurgency and nation-building operations in the Middle East toward a future defined by great power competition — most notably with China. That future, according to Army planners, looks very different from the tank battles of the Cold War or the urban firefights of Iraq.
Instead of armor-heavy forces built for continental warfare, the new focus is on lighter, more agile platforms capable of rapidly deploying to small islands, operating in dispersed formations, and surviving with minimal logistical support. In this context, heavy vehicles like the Abrams tank, while formidable, are often seen as burdensome.
The AMPV — a 36-ton tracked vehicle designed to replace the aging M113 — fits neatly into this emerging doctrine. Derived from the Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle but lacking a turret, the AMPV comes in five modular variants: general-purpose, medical evacuation, medical treatment, mission command, and mortar carrier. It’s versatile, survivable, and easier to maintain than the older systems it replaces.
But now, even the AMPV program may be entering uncertain terrain.
According to Defense Express, the U.S. Army plans to reduce AMPV production to a “minimum sustainment level.” This decision, while aligned with the shift toward lighter expeditionary platforms, raises questions about what will happen to the vehicles already in the pipeline — and who might be allowed to buy them.
Ukraine, the report argues, is a natural candidate.
The country has received hundreds of M113s from U.S. stocks since Russia’s invasion in 2022. While serviceable, these vehicles are decades old and lack the protection and mobility of modern platforms. Ukrainian forces have adapted them creatively, but vulnerabilities remain — especially against drones, mines, and artillery.
The AMPV, particularly in its counter-unmanned aerial system (C-UAS) and mortar variants, could significantly enhance Ukraine’s battlefield capabilities. One such configuration integrates Finland’s 120mm NEMO mortar system, which can deliver rapid, automated fire with a high degree of accuracy. Another reportedly includes sensors and electronic warfare tools to neutralize drone threats, a constant menace on Ukraine’s fluid eastern front.
If the transfer goes ahead, Ukraine would not only gain valuable combat hardware — the U.S. could gain something arguably more important: battlefield data.
Historically, U.S. allies have played a critical role in validating American weapon systems. During the 1973 Yom Kippur War, for example, Israel’s use of M60 tanks and F-4 Phantom jets provided the Pentagon with insights that influenced future designs. A similar pattern occurred during the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, where field experiences prompted rapid upgrades to MRAPs and other platforms.
Ukraine’s war against Russia — featuring intense combined-arms warfare, drone swarms, and contested electronic environments — offers a uniquely complex testing ground. Deploying AMPVs there, particularly in advanced configurations, would allow the U.S. to evaluate how the vehicles perform under real-world conditions.
But such a strategy is not without risk.
As the U.S. moves away from heavy armor, its European allies appear to be heading in the opposite direction.
Poland has ordered hundreds of Abrams tanks and K2 Black Panthers from South Korea. Germany is modernizing its Leopard 2 fleet and investing in next-generation heavy platforms like the Main Ground Combat System (MGCS). These decisions reflect a European threat environment still defined by territorial defense, large-scale ground maneuver, and the legacy of Russia’s war in Ukraine.
This divergence in force structure could complicate joint operations and logistics across NATO. Interoperability — already a challenge during multinational deployments — may become more difficult as U.S. and European forces rely on increasingly different systems, doctrines, and support chains.
It also sends mixed signals to adversaries. While China might interpret the U.S. pivot as a credible adjustment to Indo-Pacific realities, Russia could see it as a reduction in U.S. capacity to support armor-intensive warfare in Europe.
BAE Systems, which manufactures the AMPV at its facility in York, Pennsylvania, has invested heavily in ramping up production. According to Breaking Defense, the company received $27 million in supplemental Ukraine aid and another $250 million in internal investment to upgrade its assembly line. New robotic welding systems and facility expansions were expected to boost output to nearly 200 vehicles per year.
The reported production cuts now cast those plans into doubt.
If Ukraine does not move forward with an AMPV purchase — or if the U.S. government does not authorize a backfill agreement — BAE may be left with underutilized capacity. The company has already begun courting other NATO allies and international partners, showcasing turreted versions and enhanced electronics packages to widen the platform’s appeal.
Still, defense procurement is slow and often political. Delays or indecision could ripple through the supply chain, affecting suppliers, jobs, and readiness.
According to Defense Express, the U.S. Army has contracts with BAE worth $1.6 billion for 628 AMPVs, at an average unit cost of $6.9 million. Production targets included 91 vehicles in 2024, 81 in 2025, and 122 annually from 2026 through 2027.
If production slows to the minimum sustainment level, Ukraine’s access would depend on several factors:
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How many surplus units exist?
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How quickly can BAE reconfigure those units for Ukrainian needs?
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Who pays? The U.S., Ukraine, or a coalition fund?
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What logistics and training support would be required?
None of these questions have clear answers. U.S. officials have not confirmed the letter attributed to Glenn Dean. The Pentagon has not announced any AMPV transfers. Even the terms of potential sales remain opaque.
Until these uncertainties are resolved, the prospect of Ukraine fielding AMPVs — while promising — remains speculative.
At its core, the Defense Express report underscores a fundamental debate within the U.S. military: how to fight the next war.
Is the future defined by small-unit agility, distributed command, and unmanned platforms? Or will large-scale conventional warfare, as seen in Ukraine, remain the dominant threat model?
The U.S. Army’s bet is bold. Investing in hybrid-electric vehicles, automation, and optional manning promises speed, stealth, and sustainability. The Optionally Manned Fighting Vehicle (OMFV) program, which aims to replace the Bradley, reflects these goals. So does the Robotic Combat Vehicle initiative.
But while the U.S. looks east to the Pacific, war rages in the west. The Russian invasion of Ukraine has shown that armor, artillery, and fortified ground forces still matter. Battles for cities like Bakhmut and Avdiivka resemble 20th-century warfare, not the networked skirmishes imagined by military futurists.
In that light, the Army’s cancellation of the M10 Booker — a light tank designed to give airborne units a mobile punch — appears controversial. Though its utility in island warfare may be limited, some argue that the Booker had real potential for Europe, where mobility and firepower remain critical.
Whether the U.S. Army’s transformation proves visionary or misguided may depend on how the next war is fought — and where.
If Ukraine acquires the AMPV and uses it effectively against Russian forces, the decision to shift away from heavy armor could be validated. It would demonstrate that lighter, modular platforms can thrive even in high-intensity environments.
But if the AMPV underperforms, or if Ukraine is left unable to integrate the vehicles due to cost or complexity, the risks of the pivot will become harder to ignore.
In that sense, the battlefield of Ukraine could become a proving ground not only for American weapons, but for American strategy.
The story of the AMPV is more than a procurement issue. It’s a window into the tectonic shifts reshaping modern militaries. For the U.S., it’s a test of whether future wars will be fought by fleets of smart, nimble vehicles or by the armored behemoths of the past. For Ukraine, it may be a chance to leapfrog its capabilities and gain a battlefield edge.
But like all transformations, it comes with trade-offs. Speed versus survivability. Innovation versus reliability. Flexibility versus firepower.
As U.S. strategy evolves and global tensions rise, one question persists: Can a military built for the Pacific still dominate in a world that refuses to let go of the tank?
