Kostiantyn Vlasenko was huddled in a hole under the boiler of a bombed-out school when he came to a terrifying conclusion: To survive, he needed to amputate his only remaining foot.
The Ukrainian infantryman had already lost his left foot in a Russian drone strike in February. His right leg was broken and bent in the same attack, hindering his ability even to crawl. About three months later, after working up the courage, he grabbed his knife, sliced off his foot and applied a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding.
He survived.
On October 4, after almost eight months holed up in the boilerhouse – and 491 days on Ukraine’s drone-infested frontlines – the 49-year-old was rescued in dramatic fashion: A giant, six-propellor drone, controlled remotely, whisked a harnessed and dangling Vlasenko high into the sky and spirited him 15 km (9 miles) away to safety.
The operation was the first known aerial drone rescue of a soldier, Ukrainian commanders said, in a five-year conflict that has seen the technology used with unprecedented scale and lethality, redefining modern warfare.
Annotated illustration showing how a Ukrainian heavy-lift drone, the Ayudag-6, was adapted to evacuate a wounded soldier. A six-rotor drone hovers in a pale blue sky with a black arrow pointing right to show its direction of travel. Its battery and electric winch are labeled on the central frame. Below it, Kostiantyn Vlasenko hangs in a yellow harness, with a circled detail highlighting that both of his feet are missing after a Russian drone attack. Callouts explain that an earlier drone delivery brought him the harness, and that three Vampire drones escorted the rescue drone to distract Russian drones. Smaller escort drones appear in the background and at the bottom of the image.
The infantryman endured one of the longest Ukrainian deployments on record along the front lines of the conflict against Russia. The area is known as the kill zone because of the vast armies of drones swarming the skies which make any movement potentially fatal. Nowhere is safe.
Soldiers on both sides are forced to dig foxholes deep underground and often find themselves trapped in their positions for many months. Casualties remain high, though the primacy of drones has largely halted Russian advances.
The drone rescue marked a stunning turnaround for Vlasenko, who had largely written off his chances in the agonizing months after amputating his own limb.
“I had already buried myself,” the soldier told Reuters from his hospital bed in the northeastern city of Kharkiv as he looked down at his two bandaged stumps. “I knew there was no hope left.”
Vlasenko’s story of his ordeal and rescue was corroborated by the Ukrainian military and video footage from a camera mounted on the drone that saved him, although Reuters could not independently verify all elements of his account.
Vlasenko serves in the 30th Mechanized Brigade deployed in the Kharkiv region. In May last year, he was sent to a frontline position to join a comrade, whose call sign was Basky.
The men, jammed in a cramped dugout, were supplied by daily drone supply drops, including chocolate and premium cigarettes on Vlasenko’s birthday.
When it was finally time to rotate troops in autumn last year, two relief soldiers were both killed on their way to Vlasenko’s position, he said. Two more soldiers sent to retrieve their bodies were also killed.
“That’s when I remember realizing that this would definitely be a turning point,” said the married infantryman. “That no one would get out anymore.”
