From a quiet corner of a Kyiv street, I’m waiting to be picked up for a meeting with the legendary operator of a Patriot air defense system. He was part of the crew that first shot down a Russian Kinzhal missile. The ballistic missile was speeding toward Kyiv on May 4, 2023, with Russian propaganda claiming it was unstoppable. Yet my interviewee today was in the combat team that shattered that “unmatched” weapon into pieces during his very first combat shift. Now, his unit has over 50 enemy air targets downed above Kyiv to its credit.
… My ride hasn’t shown up yet. Out of boredom, I glance at a charming wooden mansion across the street. No signs or markings, just a number plate. A few steps away, a guy in a military uniform is also waiting, phone in hand.
“Look up that house by its number and street name — I’m curious what’s inside,” I suggest.
“It’s listed as a pharmacy,” he replies a moment later.
A squirrel darts across the mansion’s roof, breaking our monotony. I kick a random pebble toward the house with my shoe. Another one lies near the soldier’s feet.
“Kick it — let’s see whose goes farther,” I propose.
He lines up to strike the pebble, but a car pulls up beside us. Out steps the person I’ve been waiting for, shaking my hand. Then he greets the guy in uniform, and it hits me — this is him, my hero! Wow! I could’ve been talking to him this whole time… But I console myself: which other journalist, besides me, got to play “soccer” with him?!
We’re led into a room for our conversation and photos. My interviewee puts on a balaclava: the state invested heavily in his Patriot training, so safety is key — no ordinary person or outsider should know his face.
Friends, take my word for it: his face is genuinely kind, especially when he smiles.
Simulators and real combat
His name is Dmytro, and he’s 27. Back in his hometown of Vinnytsia, he graduated from a technical university with a bachelor’s in cybersecurity. Thanks to military training at the university, he left as a junior lieutenant. He worked in IT until October 2022, when he was mobilized into the radio-technical troops. Barely settled in, he was selected to train on the American Patriot system in the United States.
Later, groups of Ukrainian soldiers trained on the Patriot in Europe. Some might think, “Lucky guy, getting to see America.” But these aren’t tourist trips. Dmytro says he only saw the military base during his months in the U.S. It’s like an isolated mini-town: you train, rest, and unwind without leaving.
Working in IT, Dmytro knew English well enough, but mastering Patriot’s technical manuals and understanding instructors was a challenge. He had to sweat it out. Still, the language barrier was minor compared to another issue: in the U.S., you practice downing ballistic missiles on simulators with virtual missiles, no real danger. In Ukraine, you face a live, lethal target. Fail, and neither you nor what you’re protecting survives.
“A real missile flies faster than the virtual one on a simulator. In actual combat, you have far less time to decide and fire. It’s harsher in practice,” Dmytro says.
He realized this on his first combat shift in May 2023. Reflecting on that Kinzhal downed over Kyiv, he says, “
It really helped that I’d drilled my actions to muscle memory in the U.S.” He admits it took about a year of combat shifts to feel confident as a Patriot operator.
Now, Dmytro serves in the 96th Kyiv Anti-Aircraft Missile Brigade. When air raid sirens blare over the capital, while some Kyivans head to shelters and others roll over in bed, pulling a pillow over their heads, he and his unit literally shield the city.
Ten seconds for everything
“As soon as the alert goes off, relevant services tell us the threat: Shaheds, cruise missiles, or ballistic missiles. We turn on the radar, detect targets in our sector, and launch the systems,” Dmytro explains the crew’s process for operating the Patriot.
He says it involves dozens of soldiers, each with a specific role during an alert. As an operator, Dmytro handles the combat control station. He’s the one who must spot the target in time and ensure its swift destruction.
Some of us pride ourselves on quick reactions in daily life, but honestly, we can’t fathom true speed. Dmytro says the window between his Patriot team receiving an air threat signal and being ready to engage is no more than 10 seconds. In that time, most of us couldn’t grab a bag with documents and dash out of an apartment. Yet, Dmytro and his fellow soldiers activate the radar, switch to ballistic search mode, locate the target, and destroy it.
Can you always shoot down Russian ballistics?
“It depends on many factors. For example, if it zips through our sector too fast or flies at a high altitude, say 60 kilometers, we can’t reach it,” Dmytro explains.
Constant upgrades
It’s terrifying to face a missile strike or dodge debris from a Russian missile downed by our air defenses.
Dmytro explains:
“If our missile hits the warhead of the enemy missile directly, it’ll explode midair, and the debris and danger will be minimal. But if the warhead isn’t hit, there can be significant ground damage, even if the missile doesn’t reach its intended target. The higher we down it, the safer the debris is on the ground.”
Each Patriot unit protects a specific area, he says. But can you predict where debris from a downed missile will fall in those 10 seconds?
“We can’t choose where to shoot it down. It moves so fast — sometimes we launch as soon as the system locks on. You’ve got maybe one second to think,” Dmytro clarifies.
He’s been fighting in this mode for nearly two years. Still, he notes that American partners constantly analyze the Patriot’s combat use and upgrade its capabilities. Recently, tools for earlier ballistic detection were added, giving the crew a bit more than a few seconds to react and decide.
“But we still down ballistic missiles at the final stage, when it’s closing in on the target. Before that, it’s at an altitude we can’t reach,” he adds.
Dmytro mentions that North Korean ballistic missiles, used by Russia, were once a challenge due to their slightly different trajectories compared to Iskanders. But now, Ukrainian air defenses have gotten the hang of them—they’re downed just like Russian ballistic missiles.
The toughest challenge for a Patriot crew, he says, is when Russia launches combined air attacks on Kyiv from multiple directions and altitudes — Shaheds, cruise missiles, and ballistic missiles all at once. While Patriots don’t target Shaheds (mobile fire groups handle those), the crew must juggle tracking different missile types.
“I have to react super fast to all these threats, quickly reposition the radar to lock on. I’ve got no more than five seconds to turn and adjust it. Every moment counts,” Dmytro says.
The Patriot is pricey — a system can cost up to $1 billion, with each missile around $3.7 million — so Dmytro’s unit uses them judiciously, saving them for Russian ballistic missiles.
With only a handful of these systems in Ukraine, ensuring their safety is critical. To protect Kyiv, the Patriot itself must be shielded. German Gepard anti-aircraft guns or American Avenger systems, for instance, keep Russian Shaheds away from Patriot positions.
Relief like no other
During combat shifts, Dmytro doesn’t have time to ponder the thousand-year-old beauty of Kyiv he’s defending. Focused entirely on the enemy target, any lyrical feelings that might distract him fade away.
“But when we down a target, the relief that hits is indescribable,” he notes.
His unit is among the most effective in Ukraine’s anti-aircraft missile forces today. Dmytro has earned the Medal “For Military Service to Ukraine,” the “Military Cross” medal, the Commander-in-Chief’s “Silver Cross” distinction, and takes special pride in a personalized award pistol — given for downing targets during Russia’s combined attacks.
… Protecting Kyiv, Dmytro rarely gets to visit the city. After a 24-hour shift, he gets a day off. He could sleep, or dabble in programming like in prewar days to keep his IT skills sharp. But often, Kyiv faces multiple attack waves, leaving shifts so intense that post-duty trips to Khreshchatyk — his favorite street in the capital — are out of the question. During major threats, or if a teammate falls ill or takes leave, he’s back on duty even after the previous shift.
Since the full-scale war began, Dmytro has taken four leaves. But relaxing at home in Vinnytsia is impossible: an air raid siren sends him itching to rush to his Patriot and shoot down threats.
***
Dmytro is certain he’ll return to computers after the war. Unmarried before the invasion, his personal happiness still lies ahead. He seems almost surprised by my “post-war” question — he’s fully immersed in today’s military reality. Talking to me, I sense he’s half-listening for an air raid alert the whole time.
