Ukraine's Kursk gamble: A costly push for breakthrough

On the fourth day of the encirclement, Oleg, a 34-year-old officer in the Russian army, saw no better way out than to put a rifle under his chin and pull the trigger. His battalion, numbering 300 soldiers, was decimated.

- At least 40% of the people were killed or dying without medical assistance – Oleg recalls.

We talk in a temporary detention cell in the Sumy region. Like hundreds of Russian soldiers, Oleg was taken prisoner during the daring Ukrainian operation in the Kursk region.

On the night of August 5 to 6, the most experienced units of the Ukrainian Armed Forces (UAF) breached the Russian border. Encountering virtually no resistance, they reached the outskirts of Sudzha, a city located 10 kilometres from the Ukrainian border and 90 kilometres from Kursk.

- Russia brought war to Ukraine, now it should feel it itself - said Volodymyr Zelensky.

In just a week, the UAF captured 100 towns covering a total area of over 1.3 square kilometres. This is a larger territory than Russia occupied during the year-long offensive in Donbas.

The success of the Kursk operation put Ukraine back in the spotlight. But the emotions subsided as quickly as they soared. Two months after entering Russian territory, Ukraine's great success became a symbol of its helplessness. Without Western support, Kyiv cannot escape the vicious cycle of attrition warfare.

At the beginning of July 2024, General Oleksandr Syrsky, the Commander-in-Chief of the UAF, presented Volodymyr Zelensky with a detailed plan for the operation in the Kursk region.

The idea of taking the war into Russian territory had been discussed in Kyiv for a long time. But one opponent of large-scale operations was General Valeriy Zaluzhny, then the Commander-in-Chief and now Ukraine's ambassador to the UK.

Zaluzhny feared that by opening another front, Ukraine would spread its already weakened army thin, risking the collapse of defence in Donbas. But above all, the general didn't see the point of the operation.

"We'll gain a foothold. And then what?" he reportedly asked Zelensky.

The president remained silent on the answer. For him, it seemed obvious. Even the greatest military strategic genius won't ensure Ukraine wins the war without Western support. And that support gradually waned following the failed counteroffensive in 2023. Without spectacular successes on the front, Ukraine was increasingly sidelined, causing even Democrats to distance themselves from Kyiv at the start of the U.S. election campaign.

During this time, the front was bogged down in stagnation. The Russians, at the cost of absurdly high losses, were pushing Ukraine out of successive towns and villages. They captured Avdiivka and quickly moved toward the strategically important Pokrovsk, showering Ukrainians with an inexhaustible supply of shells from China and North Korea.

The Ukrainian forces, chronically underequipped and exhausted by trench warfare, were growing increasingly frustrated. A late mobilization, which additionally brought in soldiers unmotivated or unfit for combat due to age and health, only deepened the crisis. Kyiv faced a dilemma: lower the draft age to maintain the front at the cost of the country's future, or slowly lose Donbas but spare the young and the economy.

The vision of being stuck in a stalemate, fighting a war of attrition with no chance of victory, became increasingly real. The plan for an operation on Russian territory was wildly risky, but it seemed one of the few options to break the deadlock. It was a battle for everything.

The operation was planned in strict secrecy. Neither Western allies nor, likely, even Ukrainian military intelligence (HUR), which had previously piloted raids by Russian volunteer battalions fighting for Ukraine in border towns, knew about it.

Units set to participate in the operation were gradually moved to the Sumy region under the pretense of exercises. Some soldiers stationed in the city of Sumy were prohibited from wearing uniforms to avoid drawing attention to the growing military presence.

- We knew we were to attack Russia, but until the last moment, the command kept the location and timing of the operation a secret – recounts Stas, a drone operator in one of the brigades fighting in the Kursk region.

The mood in the barracks was pessimistic. - Many imagined it would be a suicide operation, as we'd have to break through minefields and fortifications - says Stas.

- We knew that after crossing the border, communication would disappear. So we stockpiled satellite phones, Russian SIM cards, and even tapiki [TA-57, a Soviet field phone]. The guys combed the internet for pirate software to use Starlinks in Russia – recounts "Gerard," a commander of the Belarusian "Tour" unit fighting as part of the 225th separate assault brigade of the UAF.

The 225th brigade was one of the first to breach the Russian border.

- We moved on Kozaks [light Ukrainian-produced armoured transports], bypassing villages and the first line of Russian defence – recalls "Gerard".

The success of the swift and daring operation surprised even the Ukrainians. For several days, without sleep and rest, they pushed forward. - Within the first three days, we advanced 30 kilometres into Russia – says "Gerard".

Stas: - The Russians thought their border was an inviolable sacredness. It turned out to be as perforated as a sieve.

Two weeks before the operation began, Russian intelligence informed the general staff that Ukraine was amassing large forces in the Sumy region. However, the command dismissed these reports. Poorly trained and poorly equipped units were sent to the Kursk region.

According to Alexei, a 31-year-old Russian from Arkhangelsk, his unit was sent to Kursk on August 2, four days before the Ukrainian strike. Previously, Alexei served as a submarine mechanic for 10 years.

- But the command deemed I was more suited for the infantry. First, I was at an exercise in Kursk. And in August, we were sent with a specific task to repel an attack on Russian territory.

Like Oleg, Alexei is awaiting exchange in a detention centre in the Sumy region. Both claim that till the last moment, they were convinced they would only be fighting diversionary groups.

- Everything happened in a rush and chaos. We didn't understand where the front line was - says Oleg.

According to him, his battalion was one of the first moved near the border. However, an hour after the trucks marked with the "Z" symbol returned to Kursk, Oleg realised that the unit was already surrounded.

- We had one task: to prevent the enemy from advancing along the asphalt road. And we accomplished it. The road was unharmed, but while we guarded it, the Ukrainians bypassed us in an arc - Oleg states.

Russian prisoners, whom WP spoke to in the temporary detention centre, said they had no communication with the command, their units were equipped only with small arms, and food and water supplies for one or two days. Ukrainian artillery and drones killed or wounded 30-40% of personnel. Those who survived squeezed juice from wild fruits or searched for food in gardens of abandoned villages.

After a few days of siege, the Russians surrendered. - We were told that in captivity, Ukrainians would torture us. Castrate us. I preferred to kill myself, but I lacked the courage to pull the trigger. When the Ukrainians offered us to surrender, I ordered my soldiers to lay down their weapons - says Oleg.

The attack on the Kursk region turned the narrative about the war on its head again. Major global media described the operation as Ukraine's "audacious triumph," crossing all the red lines set by the Kremlin, demonstrating that there are many weaknesses in Russia's "power".

It was also a political message to the West: with greater support, Ukraine can still avoid a protracted war of attrition, which it has no chance of winning against Russia.

"The Ukrainian military has disrupted the growing consensus among allies that Kyiv has little chance—if at all—of regaining a significant portion of its territories," CNN emphasized.

Ukrainian forces moved deeper into Russia, and in parallel, Kyiv launched a diplomatic offensive.

Zelensky's administration announced that it would present partners with a plan for Ukraine's victory. A central point was lifting restrictions on using Western weapons to strike deep into Russian territory. This would allow Ukraine to weaken Russian air force and supply lines and force Moscow to negotiate on terms favourable to Kyiv.

"The actions in the Kursk region are part of a larger military-diplomatic operation, and everything Ukraine does is only to force Russia to be ready to make a just peace," Zelensky explained.

A few days after the Kursk operation began, numerous delegations of Western politicians again started arriving in Kyiv. They rarely had a clear purpose but always ended with back-patting and repeated clichés: "Russia cannot win," and "Ukraine cannot lose."

Leaks to the American press suggested that in light of the Kursk operation, the Joe Biden administration was considering increasing military aid for Ukraine and even lifting restrictions on using long-range weapons. However, the Americans first wanted to know Kyiv's plans.

In September, Kyiv hoped for a visit from the U.S. Secretary of State with great expectations. They expected him to finally announce a landmark decision. Instead, Anthony Blinken brought a promise of $600 million for energy reconstruction and humanitarian aid. Zelensky's visit to the United States and personal meeting with Biden, during which the Ukrainian president presented a victory plan, did not change the situation either.

Zelensky returned to his country empty-handed and with the bitter feeling that without Western will, even Ukraine's most brilliant operation, like the one in the Kursk region, would be doomed to fail.

At that time, the euphoria that engulfed Ukrainians after the attack on Russia began to give way to the well-known fatigue, disappointment with the authorities amid corruption scandals, and fears of the approaching winter. In the two and a half years of war, Russia destroyed almost 90% of Ukraine's energy infrastructure. If the worst-case scenario materialises, power outages could last up to 20 hours. With no hope of ending the war, this winter will be a challenge for Ukraine.

The euphoric mood also quickly subsided on the front. Instead of the expected relief, the situation in Donbas deteriorated drastically. In record time, the Russians reached near Pokrovsk, stopping 10 kilometres from the city, occupied Vuhledar, and part of Toretsk—Ukrainian fortresses that had held out for two and a half years.

In the Kursk region, the situation began to resemble that of other front segments. The Russians relocated some units from the Kharkiv region and southern Ukraine, reinforced them with reserves and remnants of the now-defunct Wagner Group, and launched a counterattack.

- At the beginning of the operation, we could fly freely. If a 5-kilometre route is a good result for basic drones, our record in Russia was 16 kilometres. But now it's the Russians who control the sky - says Stas.

Russian forces are jamming the signal of Ukrainian drones, while their drones continuously soar in the air.

- Even crossing the border has become dangerous. All movements happen at night; we try to spend as little time outside as possible - describes Stas.

He briefly describes Russia's tactics in the Kursk region: air bombs, artillery, cannon fodder. - It's no different from other front segments. The Russians are destroying their own cities and towns, but they are pressing with mass and will eventually achieve a result. Whether you're entrenched or not, for a 500-kilogram bomb, it doesn't matter.

Whereas at the beginning of the operation, Ukraine suffered very few casualties, that is now changing. - "We had a very good result in terms of assault actions - says "Gerard." However, now it's different. The lack of manpower is becoming one of the main issues for the units fighting in the Kursk region. Some brigades, promised rotations after completing assault operations, are still stuck in position.

Stas believes that the Kursk operation was a great success, but maintaining it will cost us a lot.

"We have gained a foothold. And then what?" – the question that Zaluzhny reportedly asked Zelensky remains unanswered.

Leaks in the American media indicate that Ukraine's victory plan did not impress the Americans, as it contained already-known demands for security guarantees and increased military aid. "There's not much new there," one American official told The Wall Street Journal.

The White House's reaction made it clear to Ukraine that, in the third year of the debilitating war, the West still had no vision of its resolution. Not even the brilliant operation in the Kursk region changed this.

While discussions continued in the salons about whether Ukraine could attack military targets in Russia with Western weapons, the Kremlin regrouped and resorted to the old, trusted method of blackmailing the West. In September, Russia announced that in response to the West's "hostile actions," it intends to change its nuclear doctrine by lowering the criteria for using nuclear weapons.

The Kremlin "drew" a new red line, hoping the West would again consider the situation "stalemate" and sideline questions about the war in Ukraine, waiting for the issue to somehow resolve itself.

Kyiv enters its third winter of war, the hardest since the Russian invasion began. But it still has a chance to convince the West of its plan or at least hear from its Western partners what their vision for ending the war looks like. On October 12, a key meeting was supposed to take place at the U.S. Ramstein base as part of the so-called Ukraine Defense Contact Group, comprising over 50 countries.

During these summits, decisions are made on what and in what quantities the West can provide Ukraine. However, this time, for the first time, the Ramstein meeting was planned at the highest level. Biden and Zelensky were to attend.

According to American press sources, Ukraine might have been offered accelerated NATO accession or security guarantees in exchange for freezing the war.

However, two days before the meeting, Biden cancelled all trips due to Hurricane Milton, which hit Florida. The summit was cancelled. As of the publication of this text, a new meeting date has not yet been set.

What next with the Kursk region? There is no clear vision, even on the front. Some soldiers fighting in Donbas believe that equipment, missiles, and people would now be more useful at Chasiv Yar and Pokrovsk.

But others think the risk was worth taking.

- We can't stay in a positional war forever. We had a chance to take the initiative, and even if it doesn't yield any results, it was worth a try - says Julian, a soldier of the 68th brigade fighting on the Pokrovsk front.

According to Stas, the command is now faced with a dilemma.

- Every stick has two ends. Clinging tightly to the Kursk region makes no sense. The Russians have better positions, communications, and logistics. But we can’t withdraw either because the Russians will follow us and attack the Sumy region. This means the civilian population, which is very loyal to Ukraine, unlike the inhabitants of the Luhansk and Donetsk regions, will suffer - says Stas.

Before the Kursk operation, the 250,000-strong Sumy, located near the Russian border, lived in relative peace. Now, air raid alarms repeat up to a dozen times a day. A few days before our arrival, the Russians bombed a retirement home. Earlier, a health centre for children. Then, in the following days, a bomb hit the local hospital.

- Russia is terrorizing Sumy. Bombs are constantly falling on border villages. The frequency of shelling is so high that we evacuate people in armoured vehicles - says Kateryna Arisoy, founder of the "Pluriton" foundation.

Russian Sudzha and surrounding villages are also under bombardment.

Stas: - When we captured the town, it was nearly intact. Now it’s hard to find a whole building there.

There are still many civilians in the city. Ukraine established a military command centre, providing Russians with food and medical assistance.

- Sometimes locals greet us in Ukrainian. They have an excellent ability to adapt to any authority. No one insults them, but there is also no trust in them - says Stas.

- Sometimes we share our food or bring them medicines, but in general, we try to avoid them. Only the animals are unfortunate; they certainly didn't vote for Putin, and we found chained dogs in many abandoned yards - recounts Vitaliy Ovcharenko, an aerial reconnaissance soldier in the Kursk region.

Stas believes the war will eventually end with negotiations: - It always does. Sooner or later they sit at the table and reach an agreement.

The question is, on what terms? Ukrainian soldiers call NATO a "strange structure" and do not believe it will protect their country from Russia in the future. However, there is also growing awareness that the current war will not end as Kyiv would like.

- I am from the occupied Nova Kakhovka and would not want to trade my land, but we also can't take it back by force - Stas admits.

Unlike the West, Ukrainians also do not believe in change in Russia itself. So far, over 500 Russian prisoners have passed through the temporary detention centre in the Sumy region. The Kremlin eagerly exchanged conscripts, but the rest are stuck in captivity indefinitely.

Oleg, the Russian officer who wanted to commit suicide, claims he does not support the "conflict." - I grew up in the Soviet Union. We were told that Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus are three sisters – he explains.

However, when asked what he would do if, upon returning to Russia, the command sent him back to the front, he just shrugs. - It means I'll go fight again.