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DONETSK REGION, Ukraine — The total silence on the road to Kramatorsk is broken only by the occasional roar of military pickups. Some of the trucks bristle with anti-drone antennas, others are shielded with crude cages of welded metal. They all tear forward at maximum speed. 

Standing on the roadside, 39-year-old Vitalii has his eyes lifted to the sky. A hunting rifle rests in his arms. A drone detector sways gently from his neck. 

Vitalii’s rifle is a relic that once belonged to his father. It’s an MC 21-12 from the Soviet 1960s. “My father taught me to hunt with this when I was just a boy,” he recalls. “Back in the forests of Lutsk, I tracked wild boar, hares, and partridges.”

He smiles and adds, almost wistfully: “I still hunt today — but the quarry is not the same.” Vitalii currently provides protection for a crew stretching anti-drone nets along T05 highway, a vital Ukrainian lifeline in the Donbas now under threat from a new Russian offensive: drones. 

Both armies have begun erecting wide nets over the pavement to counter the threat of drones on major transitways.

“It’s like a spider’s web,” a worker, Andriy, 52, explains. “When a drone hits the net, it explodes. Since it can’t reach its target, it doesn’t detonate properly. And even if it goes off, the warhead is only about 200 grams, and it’s too far away to damage a truck or a car.”

As Russian troops press on with their summer offensive, plumes of white and black smoke rise over the fields. Pressure is tightening around Kostiantynivka and Pokrovsk. Underequipped and overstretched, Ukrainian forces are striving to hold their ground but are slowly giving way.

Talks between US President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin on August 15 in Anchorage, AK, were described as constructive but ended without a ceasefire or peace agreement.

Moscow demands the withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from the remainder of Donetsk and from the last Ukrainian-held areas of Luhansk before engaging in any negotiations.  Russia already controls about 75 percent of Donetsk and nearly all of Luhansk, which makes these conditions central to its position. Proposals have also circulated about freezing the frontlines in Kherson and Zaporizhzhia. 

Trump has floated the idea of territorial swaps, though no concrete plan has emerged.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s meeting with Trump and European NATO leaders three days later at the White House focused on security guarantees for Ukraine and reaffirmed that Kyiv’s constitution forbids territorial concessions. European leaders stressed that Ukraine must not be sidelined in any negotiations and pledged continued support.

The negotiations have little immediate impact on the road to Kramatorsk. Vitalii’s sole focus is on installing the anti-drone nets, whether there is a ceasefire or not. 

“The Russians will never stop the war,” he says. “But a ceasefire would at least give us a chance to rest and strengthen our fortifications.”

Russia Advances

On a red and green scaffold, workers, some in military fatigues and others shirtless, sweat heavily as they work under the hazy sun. On the horizon, the heavy detonations of Ukrainian artillery pounding Russian positions echo in the distance. While working, everyone keeps one eye on the task and the other scanning for drones.

Vitalii smiles. His drone detector has proven less reliable than he had hoped. “We can hear them coming, don’t worry,” he says, trying to reassure the others. But for him, the main challenge is not even the drones. It is the slow pace of the worksite.

“We lack manpower and resources everywhere, but especially for a task like this. Everyone fit to fight is on the front line,” he explains. “Here, most of my men are veterans who are too old or injured to keep fighting. Their physical condition slows the work.”

Andriy, now in his 50s, was mobilized in the Lutsk region in western Ukraine nearly two years ago. His face is darkened from long hours in the sun. Without taking his eyes off his work, he threads knots into the central mesh of the net as he speaks. 

“I served first in the infantry. But after months of sleeping outdoors in poor conditions, my immune system started to fail, and I developed pneumonia. That’s when I was reassigned to this job with the nets.”

It is a similar story for his comrade, Ihor, also from Lutsk. Vague about the reasons for his reassignment, he simply says his body could no longer keep up. His former commander allowed him to take on other duties within the army.

Yet the area remains extremely dangerous. Out in the open, the team is likely to come under a swarm of drones at any moment. The forest is its only cover. For Andriy, this job can be as dangerous as working on the front line.

Vitalii explains, “On average, around 50 kamikaze drones strike the road every day. Yesterday, for example, we were targeted five times. Each time, we had to take cover in the forest and wait. I am responsible for shooting them down. Once the way is clear, we get back to work, but every interruption delays the project. That is why the progress is far too slow.”

An Experiment in Adaptation

“In the past, we mainly had to deal with artillery, and we adapted,” explains Artem (a pseudonym). “Today, it is a drone war, and we are trying to adapt to that as well.” 

He says the nets are still at an experimental stage. “These nets were originally used to harvest cucumbers and onions in the region. Now, they are being used to protect the road.”

Artem adds that this phase of the war is far worse than the artillery phase. 

“There is no place where you are safe. Death can come from anywhere. Evacuating a wounded soldier has become extremely complicated, and as you can see on the road, our progress is very slow.” Artem admits bluntly that they still have 25 miles of netting to install. Meanwhile, the Russians continue to gain ground.

A few days after we were there, DeepState, a group monitoring battlefield movements, announced that Russian forces had broken through the main defensive line and had started to encircle Dobropillia. The group also reported that Russian sabotage units had been spotted on the T05 at the exit of the city.

In response to what some see as a breach in the system of defense, the Ukrainian army reportedly sent a large number of reinforcements over the course of more than 24 hours in an effort to plug the gap.

According to the Ukrainian military’s Strategic Communications Department (StratCom), Russian forces are using infiltration tactics, sending small groups of soldiers beyond the first defensive line, often at the cost of heavy losses. StratCom reported that this approach, used near Dobropillia, failed to achieve a breakthrough. Over the following days, several elite brigades, including the Azov and Da Vinci battalions, were able to cut the Russian advance toward the city in half.

Contacted after our departure, Vitalii said the team had been ordered, despite the relatively successful Ukrainian offensive, to abandon the road and fall back to Kharkiv.

“We are leaving the road,” he said. “It has become too dangerous. We are pulling back.”