CNN team is chased by drones and makes frightening report in Ukraine
The "Road of Life" in Ukraine, even though it is potholed, littered with burning vehicles and covered in nets to block drones, lives up to its name.
It is a "lifeline" that resupplies Ukrainian troops on the war's toughest front lines, sometimes by robotic delivery. The asphalt stretch from Druzhkivka to Kostyantynivka is purely a matter of survival.
Ukrainian troops, often exhausted after months trapped in the same position, move almost exclusively on foot, passing the burned-out vehicles of those who chose to try to evade the drones with speed, rather than being smaller targets.
Drones now dominate warfare in Ukraine, and the only protection against Russia's endless stream of airstrikes is to hide in trees, shoot them down, or ultimately wait for them to choose another, larger target - typically vehicles or military equipment.
It's a technological shift that has reshaped modern warfare and, at least for now, given Ukraine room to maneuver against a much larger adversary.
But for troops operating in the so-called "kill zone," which stretches for miles along the front lines, every move in the open field poses a lethal risk.
A CNN team traveled a small section of the supposedly safer road between two Ukrainian positions, accompanied by Kosta, Sasha and Bohdan, members of the 24th Mechanized Brigade of the Armed Forces of Ukraine.
The walk, which was supposed to last an hour each way, turned into a five-hour ordeal, with at least 14 attacks or near encounters with Russian drones.
CNN team is pursued by drones
The first attack happens quickly, just after a rare pair of tanks passes by.
The drone of drones above, followed by gunfire, the surrounding woods and damaged houses suddenly come to life as hidden Ukrainian troops fire into the sky.
It's a signal for us to run to a courtyard, while our colleagues try to identify some target to shoot at, in the gray, cloudy fog above.
On the road outside, Sasha and Kosta are more daring, shooting in the open. And they hit the target: the thud of the drone's explosive charge resonates on the asphalt, about 150 meters away.
We need to keep moving, as others may follow us.
Ukrainian soldiers walk along the so-called "Road of Life" in eastern Ukraine, beneath nets installed to thwart drone attacks - CNN via CNN Newsource
Drone warfare subverts frontline norms. Armored vehicles are priority targets and a vulnerability. Groups of troops are targets. The protective nets that cover so many roads in eastern Donbas - preventing drones from passing through - are not your allies here, but rather a limitation on movement.
When you hear a drone, you need to run into the vegetation, where you can hide and they can't fly. If you enter the protective nets, you need to find - or cut - a hole to get to the forest.
Dodging drones also reverses the human instinct to seek safety in groups. You have to separate, run from each other, because being alone makes you less interesting to a Russian attack pilot.
A radio alert sends our team racing back to the field, with the buzzing overhead and gunshots echoing everywhere.
After an hour, the omnipresent drone of the drone becomes difficult to distinguish - is it your imagination or your imagination? Your senses don't relax, but it's difficult to maintain the same preoccupation with every drone noise as in the first few minutes.
Our encounters with drones often end with an explosion as one crashes near us. We don't know who shot him, where he was going or if he was alone. But the need to move eliminates any time to process information.
Then a drone flies right above our heads. Sasha and Bohdan's shots - rifles from a distance and a shotgun up close - knock him down.
The damaged propellers hum ominously as it crashes onto the road, sending our companions running for cover.
The device collides with the asphalt, without an explosion. It could have been a reconnaissance device, but it was circling - a typical pattern for a Russian attack.
Sasha picks up the smoking wreckage and throws it into the vegetation, clearing the road for any tire that dares to pass that way.
Exhausted soldiers on the front line
We passed the charred wreckage of a pickup truck, hit two days earlier, in which one of the unit's lieutenants, Roman, was killed.
We met a group of exhausted soldiers on the front line, emerging from weeks of an even greater hell - where drones infested their trenches with deadly effect, Russian troops launched attacks, and artillery continued to bombard their shelters.
They look frail as they walk, their supplies carried by a small robotic truck, some covering their grimy faces with their arms to avoid the camera.
Sasha and Bohdan stop for 30 minutes at their destination - another bunker, a few minutes' drive from where we started - for tea and water.
Inside is Afina, the code name of a 25-year-old technical operator who joined the Army before the war and didn't expect it to become so dependent on drones and robots, technology that Ukraine hastily adopted to address a serious shortage of soldiers.
"I didn't expect anything like this. It's difficult. Over time, you end up getting a little worn out by it all. But you get used to it. You realize you need to do it", he reported.
We emerge to begin the arduous walk back, and another sequence of gunfire erupts, shooting down several drones that were lying in wait.
During the return, several drones crash into the road around us, shrapnel clanking, as they try to hit cars and armored vehicles at high speed.
It's relentless, exhausting, but, interestingly, a time when Ukraine's dexterity and rapid adaptation gave it the advantage - staying on its feet, automating some tasks, investing heavily in technology and watching the enemy waste its human resources on ineffective and horrific ground attacks.
Kiev may not be winning the war, but it has stopped losing, and resisting in places like the Road of Life may be enough to set Russia back.
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Source: CNN