It’s about scanning the air, “looking around you, everywhere, when you go outside,” and listening, too. Looking alert, Mariia furtively raises her eyes towards the gray sky of Kherson, standing in this alley in a neighborhood that has been shelled many times. Nothing to report on this October afternoon, but it’s better to be too careful: “It’s difficult to prevent a drone attack,” warns the Ukrainian woman in her forties, who wishes to remain anonymous for security reasons.
In Kherson, it is from the sky that the Kremlin army now reigns its terror, unable to militarily conquer the city. After having suffered the Russian occupation until November 2022, then the wave of bombs which has lasted since, the inhabitants are not at the end of their sorrows. In recent weeks, a new threat, even more vicious, has been added to that of artillery. It prowls up there, remotely controlled, buzzing tens of meters above heads: killer drone attacks, particularly targeting the civilian population, are increasing there, forcing the citizens of this front town, like Mariia, to develop new reflexes. “It’s scary, we don’t know where it crashes, and when we hear one, we look for a place to hide,” says this station employee.
At his side, Serhiy, his companion, an affable man with a thin face, adds: “The Russians are trying to terrorize people, to scare them away. » He also wishes to keep his true identity secret, fearing for his safety. The couple lives in a riverside district of Kherson classified as a “red zone”, bordering the Dnipro. Particularly vulnerable, therefore: the Russian forces are located just opposite, on the other side of the river, which acts as a front line. It is there, on the left bank, that they took refuge two years ago, in the wake of Ukraine’s liberation of the city. “But drone attacks are getting closer to the center and are no longer limited only to neighborhoods near the river,” explains Serhiy.
Between August and October alone, the military administration of Kherson counted more than 7,900, or, on average, 90 daily assaults, which, so far, have left around thirty dead and hundreds injured. No other civilian population of this size along the front line in Ukraine faces such danger, with enemy positions only a handful of kilometers from the city center.
Civilian casualties
The way of working of these attacks: attaching an explosive charge – like an unpinned grenade – to a cheap drone, often made in China, then flying it around the city of Kherson, before its pilot drops its contents or directly charges his target. In their sights? Lambdas on bicycles, pedestrians, people queuing for humanitarian aid or the bus, civilian cars. “Many of the victims are municipal employees, ambulance drivers, bus drivers,” relates Serhiy, who works as a local civil servant. “On Russian Telegram channels they say they only target soldiers, but which soldier rides a bike in the city? »
He takes out of the trunk of his sedan a drone which crashed in territory controlled by kyiv, devoid of explosive charge. “My trophy,” Serhiy quips, smirking. “These are objects of little value and which can be used in industrial quantities. »
In addition to these explosives dropped from the sky, the Russian army finds other means of sowing death, within reach of controllers. It also throws PFM-1s, or “butterfly mines” in military jargon, or antipersonnel explosives resembling simple toys, but capable of crushing a hand or a foot at the slightest contact. In Kherson, Russian drone pilots scatter them at intersections, in public parks, or even in private gardens.
“A lady tried to grab one of these objects from the ground the other day, and it blew her hand off,” said Oleksandr Chebotarev, a doctor from Kherson who works at Tropinka hospital in the center. “Last week we treated three patients injured by drones. This summer, a Russian drone attacked a family who were picnicking on a beach along the river,” he reports. A sort of “revenge”, according to him, against the fact that “the Ukrainians managed to scare away the Russians across the Dnieper two years ago”.
Humain Safari
The start of this new campaign of terror coincides with the withdrawal of Ukrainian forces, in the summer of 2024, from a bridgehead that they had managed to establish on the other side of the Dnipro. “Russia is deliberately inflicting enormous suffering on civilians, in an attempt to break the resistance of the population and occupy the territory,” says Oleksandra Matviïtchouk, director of the Center for Civil Liberties and laureate of the Nobel Peace Prize in 2022 , in an interview with Duty.
What thought crosses the mind of this Russian soldier, when he prepares to drop a grenade on an incredulous old man, installed on the porch of his home? Russian social networks are full of videos where these “feats of arms” are praised, with catchy music in the background. Like this one, from October, where we see a drone pursuing a civilian car driving at full speed. The explosive is released, narrowly missing the target. “Bad luck!” » mocks the Telegram publication, adding, in a disconcerting sadism: “No matter, the hunt continues, over and over again! »
An expression has emerged among the population to describe this deadly hunt: a “human safari”. Andriy Tsivilskyi, an energetic 47-year-old aid worker, agrees, “living in Kherson has become much scarier.” “Drones are going further and further into the city, not only targeting neighborhoods along the riverbank. They are trying to terrorize us,” regrets the man who works for the local NGO Union of Help to Kherson. A reality that forces the Khersonians to give up the rare moments of daily life that they had previously allowed themselves. Gone, for example, are the outings of Andriy Tsivilskyi’s son to play ball on the field outside the city. “With drones, it has become too dangerous. »
Killing under a bright blue sky
Mr. Tsivilskyi was never the target of these devices of death, but he came close. “A while ago, I was sitting with some friends outside, and we heard some sort of engine noise,” he recalls. They then raise their heads and immediately notice the machine flying over the area. Then everything happens very quickly. In the distance, the screech of a car accelerating, followed by an explosion. “The drone had just dropped an explosive on it. »
The inhabitants compete in ingenuity to protect themselves. “My neighbor heard one the other day flying over her head, she immediately hid under a tree,” explains Halyna, 57, in her house which was itself the target of an artillery strike, in January 2023. “In a car, on the other hand, we become even more vulnerable, we cannot hear what is above our heads. »
She also notices the increased presence of these machines, even in her neighborhood, far from the bank. “Many residents near the Dnieper are moving to the center to escape drones. But there was one who fell 200 meters from here, not long ago. For now, there are still leaves on the trees. When winter comes, it will be different…” In her garden, there is an old cherry tree that Halyna was planning to dislodge. Project delayed: the tree will remain rooted, because perhaps its vegetation will serve as a hiding place, “just in case”.
The Ukrainian armed forces struggle to intercept these devices, mobile and small, sometimes flying at low altitude in order to escape radar. Only the weather can still serve as a precarious shield for the civilian population. Rain, gray weather or wind disrupt pilots’ maneuvers and visibility, while good weather, conversely, represents an increased risk. In the dystopian world of Kherson, killing under bright blue skies has become child’s play.
With Katerina Sviderska
This report was financed thanks to the support of the Transat-International Journalism Fund.Duty.
