The battle for Pokrovsk in Donetsk Oblast unfolded as a miniature portrayal of the wider war in Ukraine, reflecting the harshness of attrition, the limitations of the available troops, and the increasing role of technology in today’s battlefield. In spring 2024, the Russian forces decided to storm Pokrovsk when the Ukrainian military was understaffed and under-equipped due to a decline in Western military support. After the penetration of assaults for several weeks, Russia still has not taken the city, resulting in Russian forces having to plan beyond the direct attacks into the tactical wrapping operations through the outlying towns of Selydove and Kurakhove. After the penetration of assaults for several weeks, Russia still has not taken the city, resulting in Russian forces having to plan beyond the direct attacks into the tactical wrapping operations through the outlying towns of Selydove and Kurakhove.
This new Russian tactic is more than a tactical change on the battlefield—it shows the new contours of positional warfare in eastern Ukraine. Russian troops have made incremental gains, taking towns like Selydove and using their control over Vuhledar to advance into Kurakhove. But these gains have come at a cost. Ukrainian forces have inflicted huge losses with a mix of infantry resilience, artillery shelling, and, increasingly, drone bombing. They have been most significant, independent military experts say, limiting the speed and efficiency of Russian mechanized warfare and forcing infantry to push slowly, often on foot. Drone missions have been the backbone of Ukraine’s defense in northwestern Donetsk Oblast.
These specialist units have been attacking Russian armored vehicles, preventing larger-scale maneuvers, and forcing troops to advance in smaller groups, often using natural cover like forests and buildings. Tactically, this is reasonable, but it has undermined the Russian tempo and increased the attritional nature of the campaign. Russian strategists concede that small-scale ground assaults are far less effective for rapid territorial gains, especially in areas where Ukrainian drones dominate the air. There are manpower deficiencies on both sides, but Ukraine is most severely impacted.
The Ukrainian military started the war with experienced combatants, the majority of whom had fought in Donbas since 2014. Years of losses have drawn down these seasoned ranks, with more and more new, poorly trained, unmotivated troops. Spring mobilization in 2024 brought thousands of troops to the front, but their morale and endurance were not as great as those of the early volunteers. Desertion and insubordination are evident, as some troops, overwhelmed by the intensity of combat and the pervasiveness of enemy drones and artillery, simply refuse to return to the front.
The psychological cost of the war is illustrated in stories like that of battalion commander Dima, who, after losing nearly all his troops near Pokrovsk, turned to a Kyiv office job, unable to endure the constant grieving. Officers now spend more time providing minimal comforts—shower rooms, haircuts, brief respite—to allow soldiers to tolerate exhaustion and tedium. However, after years of continuous combat, many are trapped in a never-ending cycle. Russia has depended most on raw numbers to offset its tactical shortcomings.
The mobilization in 2022 fundamentally increased troop counts to allow Moscow to advance with human wave assaults that gained modestly restricted ground. But this comes at an extremely high cost. Russia’s casualties are reported to be accruing more quickly than can be replenished, and its production of tanks and armored vehicles is lagging. There have been some contributions from North Korean volunteers, but the underlying shortage of manpower remains.
Desertion is not a problem exclusive to Ukraine; Russian troops are deserting in increasing numbers as well. Hundreds of Russian soldiers flee every month, reports say, motivated by moral reasons, fear for their lives, or refusal to obey orders they deem criminal. Psychological pressure—round-the-clock observation, patrolling strategic locations, and the risk of being ordered into fatal attacks—has led some officers to risk everything to desert. Technology, however, is revolutionizing the way war is being fought in Ukraine.
There has emerged a support infrastructure of defense startups, research organizations, and programs like the BRAVE1 technology cluster to fill manpower gaps. The advent of the Unmanned Systems Forces indicates that Ukraine is focusing on a technology-led battlefield. Robots are performing tasks along the extended front lines, from planting mines to rescuing wounded troops.
Drone bombers carrying machine guns and heat vision are functional, but demand exceeds supply. Merging drones, robots, and AI poses risks, but the short-term goal is the priority: save lives and push back the Russian advance. Deep-strike drones targeting Russian supply hubs and fuel storage facilities have disrupted Russian supply chains and forced Russian air defenses to be redirected, adding to Moscow’s problems.
The stakes are beyond the city of Pokrovsk. The fight is a test of endurance, ingenuity, and will. Russia’s policy involves incremental gains, but increasing losses, and Ukraine’s asymmetric capabilities undermine that expectation. By shedding territory for time, inflicting disproportionate damage, and leveraging technology, Ukraine is dictating that victory will not be coming.
But the outcome is far from guaranteed. The success of Ukraine’s defense depends on timely Western aid, better leadership and training, and continued development of asymmetric capabilities. Delays in aid already incur their costs, and more is threatened to be added. As war enters its fourth year, Pokrovsk is a grim reminder: twenty-first-century war is less a matter of brute firepower and more a matter of responsiveness, tolerance, and strategic use of technology.