EVACUATION ROULETTE ⟩ Kherson’s Civilians Run the Gauntlet of Russian Drone Strikes

"It’s terrifying to live in our neighborhood. Every vehicle is a target," Svitlana said. "They especially hunt ambulances, fire trucks, any minivans. In fact, even regular cars are targets. Cyclists have been hit, some have died."

To target civilians and vehicles, Russian forces deploy two types of drones: suicide drones, known as FPV drones, and others that drop explosives, often modified grenades or mines.

In July, Russian forces launched at least 3,300 drone strikes on the Ukrainian-controlled Kherson region, according to Oleksandr Tolokonnikov, the press secretary of the region's military administration. These attacks injured 110 civilians, including two children. On some days in July, up to 15 people were wounded in drone strikes in Kherson city alone.

​

A Race Against Death: Rescuing Ludmilla

Konstantyn recounted a particularly harrowing evacuation from the Antonivsky Bridge area involving an 83-year-old woman named Ludmilla, who was unable to move on her own.

For weeks, Ludmilla had refused to leave her home, despite the danger. That changed one night when a Russian shell landed in her yard, shocking her into action. She fell out of bed and couldn’t get up. Fortunately, she managed to call her son, who then contacted the evacuation team.

"An ambulance won’t go there. There’s a 90 percent chance it will be hit by a drone," Konstantyn explained, as to why his team took on the risky mission. "But we might slip through in our minivan."

Seven Minutes of Terror

Konstantyn's team had meticulously memorized all the streets and possible routes in the area. They raced to Ludmilla’s house at maximum speed, hid the van under some trees, grabbed a stretcher, and ran inside.

"The old lady was lying on the floor," Konstantyn described. "We put her on the stretcher, secured her, and sprinted back."

The whole operation took five minutes, but as they reached the door, they saw a Russian drone circling above their van. They all stayed inside, praying the drone wouldn’t spot them. It hovered over them for seven long minutes before finally flying away. Moments later, they heard an explosion—the drone had dropped its payload on something nearby.

The Deadly Comfort of Routine

They quickly loaded Ludmilla into the van and sped away, almost crashing into a fallen power pole that hadn’t been there when they arrived, likely brought down by the same drone. Taking a detour, they managed to escape the danger zone, just as another Russian drone began to pursue them. Luckily, the drone had to turn around to attack, giving them just enough time to get away. "It was a miracle," Konstantyn concluded.

This scene is typical of every evacuation from the neighborhoods near the Dnipro, where people still live despite the dangers. Ludmilla, despite being saved from certain death, now wants to return home.

"I want to live and die in my house," the elderly woman insisted. "I’ll stay with my children for a couple of weeks, calm down, and then I’ll ask my boys to take me back [home]."

"I’m not taking you anywhere again. If you want to go back, you’ll have to walk," Konstantyn replied, clearly frustrated.

Konstantyn firmly believes that all civilians should be forcibly evacuated from areas within the range of Russian drone attacks. "But it’s clear no one’s going to tie them up and drag them out," he admitted. "Anyone who stays behind has to understand that no ambulances, firefighters, volunteers—no one—will come. You’re on your own."

Life in a War-Torn Neighborhood

In the Antonivsky Bridge area of Kherson, where Svitlana and Ludmilla were evacuated, there hasn’t been electricity, gas, or water for a long time, yet people continue to live there.

Svitlana, whose children are 11, 8, and 4 years old, endured the hardships and dangers of living in Antonivsky because she didn’t want to leave her apartment or her parents, who live nearby. Her parents have chosen not to evacuate, despite their home being right on the riverbank, closer to the danger.

People get used to living in such conditions, which leads to another frightening consequence: they lose their sense of danger. Svitlana mentioned that despite the constant shelling and drone attacks, her children played outside until just before the evacuation. It was only in the last week, when the drone attacks increased, that they didn’t dare leave the yard. But they still played in the yard.

A Daring Bunch of Volunteers

The Kherson volunteers, like Konstantyn, who evacuate residents from areas near the Dnipro, are a daring bunch, constantly risking their lives. None of them wear bulletproof vests or helmets, and there’s a reason for that.

"We leave all [the protective gear] in the car because drones can easily spot it, and volunteers [rescuers] become prime targets," Konstantyn explained. Wearing vests and helmets makes them priority targets for drone operators. It doesn’t matter that their minivan has "Evacuation. Children" written in large letters on the sides and roof in Russian. If they look like ordinary civilians, they might get lucky, but not always, as evidenced by the hundreds of civilian casualties.

Hospitals Under Fire

In addition to evacuating residents, these volunteer rescuers have another crucial task. Most of the people left in Kherson are elderly, lonely, and sick, struggling to move, so the volunteers regularly transport them to and from hospitals. But in Kherson, a hospital doesn’t guarantee safety. At least three hospitals are in areas actively targeted by Russian drones.

"The Russian army operates with maximum savageness," said Oleksandr Tolokonnikov, the press secretary of the Kherson region's military administration, about the attacks. "First, they fire artillery or rockets, and then 10-15 minutes later, when medics and rescuers arrive at the scene, they strike them with drones."

In July, 277 residents of the Kherson region were killed or injured in Russia's attacks. Forty percent of the casualties were from drone strikes.