The scale of Ukrainian forces' counteroffensive in southeastern Ukraine early this year is finally becoming clear. In six months of maneuver starting on 29 January, a clutch of Ukrainian units, including the 78th, 79th, 80th, 82nd, and 95th Air Assault Brigades and the 1st and 425th Assault Regiments—tens of thousands of troops, in all—marched through gaps in Russian defenses and, according to Ukrainian officials, liberated around 745 square km and 26 settlements. Mostly in Dnipropetrovsk Oblast but also in neighboring Zaporizhzhia and Donetsk Oblasts.

That is Kyiv's own accounting, and it is the high end. The Institute for the Study of War, which maps control from geolocated imagery, put the figure at roughly 627 square km across the Oleksandrivka direction and the northern Hulyaipole direction—while noting its own conservative method probably undercounts. Either number describes the largest Ukrainian territorial gain since 2023.

The Ukrainian gains helped to offset Russian gains around the last few free cities in eastern Ukraine's Donetsk Oblast. Between the start of February and the end of July, Russian regiments captured a net total of just 260 square km of Ukrainian soil, according to a tally by the Black Bird Group. It would've been more than 1,000 square km if those air assault and assault units hadn't been busy clearing the Russians from a wide swathe of the southeast.

According to our data, in July the net gains of the Russian armed forces in Ukraine were approximately 106km².

This is the fastest Russian advance since January, but their gains remain extremely limited. In July of 2025 the Russians captured nearly 5 times as much territory.

1/ pic.twitter.com/02931eDLk0

— Black Bird Group (@Black_BirdGroup) August 4, 2026

The Ukrainian counteroffensive kicked off on 29 January. Three days later, Elon Musk's Starlink bricked Russia's thousands of smuggled and stolen satellite terminals. Practically overnight, the Russians lost their best method for controlling small drones and guiding assault units across the disputed gray zone. Drones couldn't fly. Troops couldn't navigate.

Ukrainian commanders surely knew their communications advantage wouldn't last: the Russians would eventually adapt with new methods of command and control. Seizing the opportunity, Ukrainian paratroopers and assault troops pressed the attack. And in stark contrast to the usual assault tactics for both sides, the Ukrainians attacked in tanks and other armored vehicles, counting on the Russians' connectivity problems to clear a path for heavy forces.

The blackout was not the only thing working in Ukraine's favor. ISW credits the gains to five reinforcing factors: better operational planning, a campaign to suppress and destroy Russian air defenses, deeper strikes on Russian logistics, Ukrainian drone superiority at the tactical level—and the Starlink cutoff. But the cutoff is the one that arrived all at once, and it arrived just as Ukrainian armor was starting to move.

As expected, @Deepstate_UA and other Ukrainian media outlets followed on the liberation of multiple villages

Despite many "analysts" doubting OPSEC, not too much information filtered from this offensive. Thus, let's get back inside to understand what happened

THREAD pic.twitter.com/Sy2cYxiZy3

— Clément Molin (@clement_molin) August 12, 2026

Mechanized assaults

Not all the vehicles got through. The assault troops lost one up-armored M-1 Abrams tank in early February. But by March, other assault forces M-1s were engaging Russian troops at point-blank range with their 120-mm main guns. After clearing a few disputed villages along a 45-km front between Dobropillya and Zelenyi Hai, the Ukrainians focused their maneuver and firepower on Komar, 12 km southeast of Zelenyi Hai.

The Ukrainians "started a slow and quiet offensive, with very few videos and small teams, during April and May," mapper Clément Molin recalled. The strict information security obscured the Ukrainian moves for all but the closest observers, allowing Ukrainian commanders to press their attacks without drawing too much attention—and risking a Russian countercounteroffensive.

By summer, the Ukrainians were within mortar range of Komar. Embarrassed Russian commanders resorted to sending out small teams on virtual suicide missions to plant Russian flags in disputed territory. The flags could create the impression of Russian control on terrain that, in fact, neither side controlled. "Russia is trying to intoxicate us with flag videos, which are meant to hide the real situation to both us and their command," Molin wrote.

The reality was that the Ukrainians had gained ground. A lot of it.

Announcing the results on 12 August, Ukrainian officials also claimed 9,550 Russian troops killed and more than 6,600 wounded—figures no independent body has verified. Former commander in chief Oleksandr Syrskyi, who planned the operation, said it proved the Ukrainian army "is capable not only of steadfastly holding its defences, but also of launching offensives, seizing the initiative, and liberating Ukrainian land."

But the momentum was unsustainable. As the Russians gradually restored command and control through the summer, the Ukrainians encountered more resistance. Now the gray zone is stabilizing again. Observer Moklasen predicted new Ukrainian commander in chief Maj. Gen. Mykhailo Drapatyi will order his corps and brigade commanders "to dig in positions, consolidate and strengthen more army corps" instead of continuing to attack.

After all, the Russians are pushing hard in Donetsk, and the resources the Ukrainians had devoted to the southeastern counteroffensive could boost the defensive effort in the east. Moreover, there are worrying signs the Kremlin may attempt another mobilization soon, potentially surging hundreds of thousands of fresh troops into Ukraine.

The Ukrainians may soon prioritize holding over attacking.

On 16 July, one-way attack drones from the Ukrainian state security service—the vaunted SBU—motored 800 km to strike Engels-2 air base in western Russia. At the time, there were reportedly five bombers on the ground at the base: four Tupolev Tu-22Ms and a single Tupolev Tu-95.

The drones struck the four-engine, propeller-driven Tu-95. "According to preliminary data, the plane suffered critical damage," the SBU claimed. "It completely tore off the tail part." That particular aircraft, the SBU added, had been used systematically to launch massed missile strikes on Ukraine. Satellite imagery later confirmed the bomber's destruction.

Nearly a month later, we finally know which drone type the SBU flung at Engels-2 and its parked bombers. They were MICH 2000s—Ukrainian aircraft that began as copies of the Chinese ZTK-150, built after Beijing stopped selling. Ukrainian website Oboronka, which visited the factory, broke the news. "Today, the Mich' is no longer just a Chinese plane, but a drone that is exclusively used by the SBU Special Operations Center 'Alpha.'"

According to Oboronka, whose report was agreed in advance with the manufacturer and the SBU, the MICH 2000 flies as far as 2,000 km with a warhead weighing 25 to 60 kg. "The list of targets hit by this drone is updated every week," Oboronka noted. They include Russian ports, military and industrial sites around Moscow and Engels-2.

The Engels-2 raid might be the most immediately impactful. After the 16 July raid, the Russians may be down to 43 Tu-95s, only a dozen of which are usually active at any given time.

The mysterious Shahed like Ukrainian drone that has been repeatedly spotted during strikes deep inside Russia finally has a name: MICH 2000.

Until now, almost nothing was publicly known about it. The drone is used exclusively by the SBU’s Alpha unit, can fly up to 2,000 km and… https://t.co/yUHIXEjvLl pic.twitter.com/HT59LiigrI

— Special Kherson Cat (@bayraktar_1love) August 12, 2026

The plane that came from China

The MICH 2000 started as someone else's drone. In the summer of 2023, Beijing restricted exports of the civilian aircraft Ukrainian units had been buying and converting into deep-strike munitions. At the end of that year, a team of Ukrainian developers flew to China to buy some anyway.

At the factory, they found dozens of ZTK-150s coming off the line—Shahed lookalikes distinguished mainly by a pair of forward canards. The Chinese intermediaries floated selling the production technology outright, and Ukrainian commanders liked the idea. But when the team came back ready to buy, the factory's management refused.

The intermediaries wanted the deal anyway. They offered to assemble the drones somewhere without export restrictions—and to train Ukrainian pilots. The team took the training. "We came there to teach pilots to fly Chinese drones," one member told Oboronka. "And in parallel with the training we photographed everything that was there. Everything from the production process to the arrangement of the shelves and cabinets." They flew home with trained pilots and eight Chinese drones.

Two years later, the Ukrainian version costs $48,000 in its basic configuration. The Chinese original costs $50,000. And according to the manufacturer, almost nothing of the Chinese drone survives in the MICH 2000 now except its outline.

Whittling down the bomber fleet

Ukrainian drones are slowly chipping away at the Tu-95 fleet. A 2022 drone raid badly damaged one of the lumbering turboprop bombers at Engels-2, potentially leaving no more than 51 intact Tu-95s in the Russian air force inventory at the time. Smuggling tiny explosive drones across Russia in trucks on 1 June, 2025, the SBU hit at least seven more Tu-95s as well as four Tu-22Ms, among other aircraft.

The 16 July raid is the more recent Ukrainian effort to shrink the Russian bomber force, but it surely won't be the last. The Russians' roughly 120 bombers—Tu-95s, Tu-22Ms and Tupolev Tu-160s—launch the cruise missiles that routinely blast Ukrainian cities and power plants.

Struggling to intercept all Russian deep strike munitions in the target zone, in part owing to a deepening shortage of the best air defense missiles, Ukrainian forces increasingly aim to prevent the Russian munitions from even launching—by smashing munitions factories or, yes, destroying irreplaceable bombers. Of the three Russian bomber types, just one—the Tu-160—is still in production, albeit at a rate of barely just one every year or two.

Expect more MICH 2000 raids. The type's anonymous builder churns out 6,000 MICH 2000s a year but aims to boost output to 10,000 a year. And the firm customizes the drones to suit particular missions.

According to Oboronka, there are eight main versions. "Fighters can choose what kind of communication they need: analog, digital or Starlink. They can choose the warhead, the size of the fuel tank, the possibility of additional guidance." The navigation system can be made more jam-proof by adding additional jam-resistant controlled reception pattern antennas.

Drone strikes by MICH 2000s and other drone types aren't the only ways Ukrainian forces are trying to blunt Russian attacks on Ukrainian cities and power plants. Ukrainian drone teams are also trying to take out the last five warships in the battered Russian Black Sea Fleet that can fire Kalibr cruise missiles.

On 11 August, drones struck at least three of the ships in the port of Novorossiysk in southern Russia. The frigates Admiral Essen and Admiral Makarov and the corvette Bykov all suffered visible damage.

Russia has been shooting down most of Ukraine's best long-range cruise missiles as fast as Ukraine can launch them. Just one or two of the $500,000 Fire Point FP-5 Flamingo missiles have hit their targets in recent weeks.

That means Russian air defenses are working for now. Whether they'll continue to work is the critical question for Ukrainian strike planners.

Under the cover of darkness on 6 August, the Ukrainian army's 19th Missile Brigade launched at least three of the six-ton, jet-propelled Flamingos toward Tyumen Oblast in western Siberia. The missiles traveled around 2,500 km before disappearing, according to mapper AMK Mapping.

The apparent shoot-downs capped a difficult week for Ukraine's deep strike campaign. AMK Mapping claimed the Russians shot down 10 of 11 launched Flamingos since 1 July. That count is one mapper's, based on open-source tracking, and no official Ukrainian or Russian figures exist to check it against.

Approximate flight route of the 5 Ukrainian FP-5 Flamingo cruise missiles.

They disappeared over Tyumen Oblast, likely after being shot down once again by Russian air defence.

Once again, the missiles followed the path of major rivers at low altitude in order to complicate… https://t.co/8xbymN3dap pic.twitter.com/Rc17wrQI1X

— AMK Mapping (@AMK_Mapping_) August 6, 2026

The mapper may be off by one. Between 24 and 25 July, at least one Flamingo struck the Vyatka Machine-Building Enterprise Avitek missile plant in Kirov Oblast 1,300 km from the border with Ukraine. Michael Bohnert, an analyst with the RAND think tank in California, concluded that two Flamingos hit the plant, causing visible damage.

It was a potentially powerful blow. Among other things, Avitek produces parts for the Tor medium-range surface-to-air missile system. Slowing Tor production "will have the most impact," Bohnert explained. And the Ukrainian system that a Tor slowdown might benefit the most is ... the Flamingo.

After all, the Tor is one of the air defense systems the Russians could use to shoot down Flamingos. "Any slow-down in the production of these could greatly improve the prospects of FP-5 performance over time," Bohnert noted.

Ukrainian Firepoint FP-5 Flamingo missiles just smashed the Avitek plant in Kirov, Russia (July 24 and 25) — and the biggest hit is to SA-15 Tor production.

Here are the facts and why it matters

On July 24th and 25th, Ukrainian Firepoint FP-5 Flamingo Missiles hot the Vyatka… pic.twitter.com/Ii8VsJCumi

— Michael Bohnert (@mbohnert) July 26, 2026

Aerial defenses

At present, however, it seems that the Flamingo's biggest problem is in the air, not on the ground. Russia is shooting down most of the incoming FP-5s because it has eyes in the sky.

The Russian air force's fleet of lumbering Beriev A-50U radar early-warning planes now has one mission and one mission only: the A-50Us with their fuselage-mounted radars patrol over the likeliest flight paths for Flamingos motoring into the Russian interior to strike strategic industries.

The A-50Us are effective in the role. As recently as June, more Flamingos were getting through Russian defenses. Between 9 and 10 June, the 19th Missile Brigade launched five Flamingos at the VNIIR-Progress electronics plant in Cheboksary, in western Russia, 960 km from the Ukraine border.

Two missiles struck the plant, punching right through anti-drone protections and inflicting major blast and fire damage with their 1,150-kg warheads, the biggest on any Ukrainian deep strike munition.

Russia adapted fast. On 4 July, an A-50U helped missile batteries on the ground spot and shoot down five FP-5s flying toward Votkinsk, 1,360 km from Ukraine. From its perch thousands of feet in the air, the A-50U has a much longer detection range against low targets than any radar on the ground can manage.

Targeting A-50Us on the ground and in the air in a series of drone and missile ambushes, the Ukrainians have destroyed two A-50Us and damaged at least two others, reducing the fleet to no more than five. Russia has no way to build replacements. But those five planes are now fully committed to the anti-Flamingo fight.

On 7 July, the Russians reportedly launched four of the irreplaceable planes at the same time in order to coordinate the Flamingo shoot-downs. Now, almost all Flamingos go down in flames before they reach their targets.

Ukraine isn't powerless. Fire Point has been working hard to improve the Flamingo and make it harder to shoot down. Perhaps most importantly, it seems the company tweaked the missile's altimeter in order to help it fly lower. The lower a missile flies, the better chance it has of hiding among the radar clutter created by surrounding terrain.

But if a lower-flying Flamingo is harder to shoot down, the improvement hasn't yet registered in the statistics. For now, Russia has figured out how to take out almost all of Ukraine's heaviest deep-strike missiles.