For 225 days, a Ukrainian infantryman known by the call sign “Kenya” lived inside a cramped foxhole near the embattled eastern city of Kostyantynivka, surviving under constant threat from Russian drones, artillery and assault groups. By the time he finally escaped his position, his muscles had deteriorated so badly that he could barely walk.
His commanders attempted five times to rotate him out of the front line, but every effort failed. The route to his position lay inside one of the deadliest stretches of the war in eastern Ukraine — a barren “kill-zone” watched day and night by remotely piloted drones capable of striking almost anything that moved.
When relief never came, Kenya was forced to make the journey back himself. He spent two days walking 11km through mined terrain, hiding from drones and moving cautiously through shattered fields to reach the rear positions of Ukraine’s 93rd Brigade.
The brigade is tasked with defending Kostyantynivka and surrounding settlements from Russia’s grinding offensive in the Donbas. Ukrainian military officials acknowledge that Russian forces have already reached the outskirts of the city, making it one of the most dangerous sectors on the front.
Kostyantynivka occupies a crucial strategic position. If Russian troops capture it, Moscow would gain a pathway toward the final major Ukrainian strongholds in the Donbas region — Kramatorsk and Sloviansk — potentially approaching them from multiple directions.
Russian President Vladimir Putin has repeatedly identified the capture of the Donbas as a central objective of the war. Ukrainian intelligence officials believe the Kremlin aims to complete that objective this year, while Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has warned that Russia may launch a renewed large-scale summer offensive.
Yet despite the pressure along the front, Russia’s advance in the Donbas has recently slowed. Ukrainian battlefield monitoring group DeepState reports that Russian territorial gains in April were roughly half those recorded in March, and only a fraction of the territory seized during the peak offensives of late 2025.
For soldiers entrenched along the front, however, the war remains relentless.
Kenya described a battlefield transformed almost entirely by drones. His role in the foxhole was not to launch attacks but to maintain presence and observe movement. If Russian soldiers approached, he and his fellow infantryman would engage. Otherwise, much of the fighting occurred remotely.
“Most fighting was done by drones,” he said.
The war in Ukraine has evolved into a conflict where technology dominates the battlefield but infantry still determines territorial control. Traditional large-scale assaults involving tank columns and massed troop formations have become increasingly rare. Instead, attacks are often carried out by tiny assault groups — sometimes only two or three soldiers — moving rapidly across open terrain on foot, motorcycles, bicycles, or even horses.
Speed has replaced armour as the essential survival tool.
The areas between Ukrainian and Russian lines have become drone-saturated zones where any detectable movement can quickly trigger an attack. Both sides operate surveillance drones, explosive-dropping quadcopters and first-person-view kamikaze drones capable of striking with extraordinary precision.
For troops stationed in these areas, survival depends on concealment.
“Every time we had to leave our positions, we prayed we would come back alive,” Kenya recalled. During night movements, soldiers wore anti-thermal cloaks designed to hide body heat from drone-mounted thermal cameras. Even those offered only limited protection.
“They lasted for 20 minutes at most,” he said.
Despite the technological transformation of warfare, commanders on both sides continue to rely on infantry to physically occupy and defend territory. Drones can destroy vehicles and kill soldiers, but they cannot seize trenches, control crossings or permanently hold strategic positions.
That reality has forced Ukrainian troops to remain inside isolated foxholes and improvised dugouts for months at a time.
Another soldier, known by the call sign “Khani,” spent 122 days at the front. Originally a Palestinian student who came to Ukraine in the 1990s and later stayed, Khani described how his unit survived after Russian forces discovered their position.
He and fellow soldiers were stationed in the basement of a two-storey building that was eventually reduced to rubble by artillery and drone strikes. When Russian troops attempted to enter the basement, the Ukrainians opened fire, exposing their location.
“Once they knew we were there, they first dropped explosives from drones, then kamikaze drones attacked us,” he said.
One drone connected by fibre-optic cable managed to enter the basement but became entangled near the entrance. Khani fired at the cable reel, severing the operator’s control and disabling the drone.
Moments later, Russian assault troops detonated anti-tank mines outside the basement, collapsing the entrance under debris.
“They thought we were dead,” Khani said.
The soldiers survived only because they had secretly prepared an alternative escape tunnel in advance.
The hardships endured by troops in the Donbas extend beyond combat.
Another Ukrainian soldier, known as “Granata,” recently completed a 110-day deployment near the front. He said Russian forces had begun using explosives containing gas in attempts to force Ukrainian defenders from fortified positions.
In one incident, the soldier beside him suffered severe injuries after such an attack.
Supplying forward positions has become increasingly difficult as Russian drone surveillance and artillery fire have effectively severed many ground routes. Food, water and ammunition are now often delivered by aerial drones, but even those missions are unreliable. Supply drones are frequently destroyed, jammed electronically or forced off course.
As a result, troops endure chronic shortages.
Kenya said mice became a persistent problem in frontline positions, destroying nearly all food supplies that were not stored in metal containers.
“They gnaw everything except metal,” he said. “We had to eat all food except canned food quickly, otherwise the mice would destroy it.”
Water shortages were even worse.
When asked what they lacked most, soldiers consistently identified water as the single greatest hardship.
“The most memorable moment for me was when it rained,” Kenya recalled. “I undressed and went outside to wash myself.”
Winter conditions added another layer of suffering. Temperatures reportedly dropped to minus 25 degrees Celsius in some areas, while exhausted troops slept on frozen ground or cold concrete floors using worn-out sleeping bags that provided little insulation.
Khani said one of his fellow soldiers became ill during the winter.
“One day he just didn’t wake up,” he said quietly. The soldier died from hypothermia.
Ukrainian military officials now believe Russian forces are regrouping along parts of the front line ahead of a possible renewed offensive during the summer months. To slow any advance, Ukraine has intensified strikes against Russian logistics hubs, ammunition depots and supply routes deeper behind the front.
Military analysts believe those attacks may already be affecting Russian operations. According to the Washington-based Institute for the Study of War, Russian forces recently suffered losses exceeding the amount of territory they managed to capture during the same period.
Still, for soldiers stationed inside the drone-dominated grey zone of eastern Ukraine, strategic assessments offer little comfort.
The burden of holding the line continues to fall on small infantry units living underground for months at a time, often isolated, undersupplied and under constant threat from above.
Without them, Khani said, Ukraine’s front would collapse.
“No drone can replace a soldier who stays in the trench,” he said.
