The use of FPV drones in the Ukraine conflict has given rise to a unique mental health crisis known as "droneophobia," affecting soldiers and civilians alike.
Drones of Terror: The Lingering Trauma of Ukrainian Soldiers and Civilians
Drones of Terror: The Lingering Trauma of Ukrainian Soldiers and Civilians
As Ukrainian soldiers return home from the frontlines, they face the psychological scars left by relentless drone warfare.
In Kyiv, Pavlo, a 30-year-old drone operator, shares the impact of his experiences on the frontlines. As he unzips a black case housing his four-rotor drone, he smiles as he fails to get it functioning again, a reminder of the chilling context surrounding its use. Having operated first-person view (FPV) drones during combat, Pavlo knows firsthand the lethal repercussions these small, agile devices can inflict. Their evolution has seen them replace traditional artillery, becoming the weapon of choice for hunting soldiers and armored vehicles alike.
"You cannot hide from the FPV, and to run is useless," he explains. The distinct buzzing noise these drones emit signifies danger, and for many veterans like Pavlo, that sound continues to haunt them even after they have left the battlefield. Activities like listening to lawnmowers or motorcycles trigger memories of drone warfare, leading to a condition Dr. Serhii Andriichenko, chief psychiatrist at a Kyiv military hospital, has termed "droneophobia."
Returning soldiers now suffer acute stress disorders linked to ordinary sounds reminiscent of the drones. Another soldier, Savur, who lost his arm in an FPV attack, admits to a heightened awareness that transforms the sound of harmless machinery into an alarming threat. Silence, too, proves to be unsettling; soldiers often find themselves strained, straining to detect any potential drone sounds.
The omnipresence of drone technology extends the combat zone far from the frontlines, instilling fear in soldiers like Nazar Bokhii, who remembers being caught off guard by a Russian drone that cost him both hands and one eye. While Bokhii himself experiences manageable PTSD, he acknowledges how the drones they operated were tools of psychological warfare, instilling fear in their adversaries.
On the civilian front, the repercussions are equally severe. In Kherson, where Russian forces have used FPVs to target innocent people, residents express the anxiety of living under such threat. Dmytro Olifirenko recounts the day when a drone attacked civilians waiting at a bus stop, leaving him severely wounded. Now, the sound of drones is a constant reminder of that terrifying day, significantly affecting mental health and well-being.
For civilians and veterans alike, the drones have reshaped daily life, blurring the lines between safety and potential danger. Pavlo laments, “You see the world as a battlefield. It can become a battlefield any second.” The invasion of everyday sounds has instigated an insidious mental struggle that presents an ongoing challenge; sound is an unpredictable harbinger of fate, forcing constant vigilance and chronic anxiety for those who’ve experienced the horrors of the ongoing drone warfare in Ukraine.
"You cannot hide from the FPV, and to run is useless," he explains. The distinct buzzing noise these drones emit signifies danger, and for many veterans like Pavlo, that sound continues to haunt them even after they have left the battlefield. Activities like listening to lawnmowers or motorcycles trigger memories of drone warfare, leading to a condition Dr. Serhii Andriichenko, chief psychiatrist at a Kyiv military hospital, has termed "droneophobia."
Returning soldiers now suffer acute stress disorders linked to ordinary sounds reminiscent of the drones. Another soldier, Savur, who lost his arm in an FPV attack, admits to a heightened awareness that transforms the sound of harmless machinery into an alarming threat. Silence, too, proves to be unsettling; soldiers often find themselves strained, straining to detect any potential drone sounds.
The omnipresence of drone technology extends the combat zone far from the frontlines, instilling fear in soldiers like Nazar Bokhii, who remembers being caught off guard by a Russian drone that cost him both hands and one eye. While Bokhii himself experiences manageable PTSD, he acknowledges how the drones they operated were tools of psychological warfare, instilling fear in their adversaries.
On the civilian front, the repercussions are equally severe. In Kherson, where Russian forces have used FPVs to target innocent people, residents express the anxiety of living under such threat. Dmytro Olifirenko recounts the day when a drone attacked civilians waiting at a bus stop, leaving him severely wounded. Now, the sound of drones is a constant reminder of that terrifying day, significantly affecting mental health and well-being.
For civilians and veterans alike, the drones have reshaped daily life, blurring the lines between safety and potential danger. Pavlo laments, “You see the world as a battlefield. It can become a battlefield any second.” The invasion of everyday sounds has instigated an insidious mental struggle that presents an ongoing challenge; sound is an unpredictable harbinger of fate, forcing constant vigilance and chronic anxiety for those who’ve experienced the horrors of the ongoing drone warfare in Ukraine.
