Ukrainian-drone-pilot-found-hidden-Russian-depot-realized-it-was.jpeg

Ukrainian drone pilot found hidden Russian depot, realized it was filled with horses and cars

Cosmos floated his quadcopter over the ruined warehouse, guiding it through a corner of the roof where shattered metal sheets had collapsed to form a hole.

The drone pilot’s unit, the Wild Division, suspected that the building was a logistics hub for Russian soldiers, roughly 15 km, or about 9 miles, from the line of contact in southern Ukraine. These hidden locations often held ordnance or fuel stockpiles, and Cosmos’ fiber-optic drone was armed with explosives to destroy them.

Yet inside, the drone rotated its camera to reveal what looked more like a farmer’s garage: Four civilian cars, a pair of motorcycles, and two bridled horses.

“We had not expected to see this. It was unusual,” Cosmos told Business Insider, speaking on condition that he be identified only by his call sign.

“We were expecting to find some armored vehicles,” he added.

Video of the discovery went viral last week in Ukraine, as the war has increasingly seen Russian soldiers using unconventional transport tools, such as pack animals and bicycles, to conduct assaults or logistics missions. Cosmos said his drone mission was conducted in early February.

The smaller profile of a horse or civilian car might be harder for a drone to spot, though Russia’s repeated use of them has also raised questions about the viability of its tactics and whether it’s been producing enough military equipment to sustain its invasion.

Cosmos’ squad mates and officers at the Wild Division, a first-person-view drone company in the 82nd Air Assault Brigade, had seen clips of Russian soldiers riding on horses to attack Ukrainian positions before.

One famous example they remember was in Zaporizhzhia, when a Ukrainian drone crew attacked Russian infantry crossing the front lines on horseback last month.

Cosmos, who’s been piloting drones for a year, said it was the first time he’d personally seen the animals on the front lines.

He flew his explosive-laden drone straight into the back of one of the cars, and said his crew later struck several other vehicles inside. When Russian troops moved their transport assets, the Wild Division found the next warehouse and attacked that one, too, Cosmos said.

“The enemy usually lives in hiding close to these places,” Cosmos said of the warehouse. “It’s common for us to check all targets. Sometimes we can see the enemy infantry, or you can see their vehicles.”

Russia calculates war differently

The Wild Division declined to say where exactly the warehouse was located, but its brigade is generally deployed in the Donbas.

The commander of Cosmos’ battalion told Business Insider that the discovery of the horses surprised him, too.

“I thought it had been a location for transport vehicles, sort of a transfer hub,” said the major, whose call sign is Fizruk.

Fizruk said the appearance of horses and cars in his area of the front line could be a sign that Russian forces are running low on standard resources, but also reflects Moscow’s attritional nature of fighting.

The cars discovered by Cosmos appear to be Nivas, inexpensive civilian off-road vehicles from the Russian Lada car brand.

“They treat these like they will be losses anyway, that they will be destroyed anyway,” he said. “Look, a Niva costs, let’s say, $2,000. A Hummer, which the Armed Forces of Ukraine uses in many places, costs $20,000, maybe more.”

“Since they lose their equipment in assaults, from that point of view, why pay $20,000 for one vehicle if you can buy 10 Nivas for $20,000?” Fizruk added.

The Kremlin is known to pressure the front line with repeated ground assaults, sending small groups of infantry to approach Ukrainian positions on foot or in cheap vehicles. The strategy has been costly, with NATO now saying that up to 25,000 Russian troops are dying each month.

Sustaining that style of war has pushed Moscow to informal means of recruitment and weapons procurement, including hiring troops from overseas and receiving ammunition from North Korea.




Source link

I-moved-to-France-8-years-ago-The-first-few.jpeg

I moved to France 8 years ago. The first few months were filled with challenges and surprises — especially at work.

In 2017, I quit my job as a paralegal, packed up my life in England, and bought a one-way ticket to Paris.

The new chapter was full of surprises, and though most of them were positive, I was in for some unexpected challenges in those early months — from navigating the notoriously tricky French bureaucracies (and supremely unhelpful bureaucrats operating them), to the weird and wonderful world of the Parisian soirée.

However, the strongest culture shocks came in the workplace, and even now, after eight years in France, I still find aspects of French office culture surprising.

Adjusting to French social norms was harder than expected


Woman standing in front of eiffel tower at dawn

Many traditions in France differ from what I’m accustomed to back in England.

Jodie Hughes



Getting to grips with office etiquette was my first major challenge — and the most urgent to overcome. I was starting a completely new role, in a completely new company, barely three days after arriving in France.

My title was still paralegal, but even there, my remit couldn’t have been more different. To say I had a steep learning curve ahead of me would be an almighty understatement.

I had, at least, anticipated some difficulty addressing people correctly, but that didn’t make my (frequent) blunders any less embarrassing.

In French, there are certain words for “you” and different versions of verbs depending on the level of politeness/deference needed. The rules around who you “tu” and who you “vous” feel nebulous at best — and a total minefield for a (foreign) new recruit.

Meanwhile, social norms I wasn’t expecting included greeting everyone who joins you in an elevator, and then wishing them a good day/evening when they/you leave. (People do this in medical waiting rooms here, too. I still haven’t gotten used to it.)

In England, people mostly awkwardly avoid eye contact at all costs in these situations. And if you do accidentally acknowledge someone else’s existence, at the very most, you offer them a tight (also awkward) smile.

You absolutely do not, under any circumstances, talk to them.

Mealtimes are sacred here, and I couldn’t believe the food — or bubbly — on offer in my office


Woman smiling in front of Seine river with lit up boats at night

In France, I’ve found that it’s not uncommon to pop open some bubbly at work.

Jodie Hughes



It didn’t take me long to realize just how seriously the French take enjoying the enjoyment of mealtimes.

Even my office cafeteria felt like a foodie’s dream with a rotating menu of things like duck, salmon, and paella; desserts hand-crafted by a professional pastry chef; fresh bread from the local boulangerie; and literal mounds of cheese

My lunches were so heavily subsidised by my employer that, unless I wanted a three-course meal or a glass of wine (a girl’s got to treat herself occasionally), they were almost always free.

And, yes, it’s apparently perfectly acceptable to have an alcoholic drink in the middle of the workday in France.

I also quickly learned that mealtimes, like baguettes, are sacred in this country, both for socializing and for savoring.

It’s frowned on to eat at your desk, scarfing down a sandwich while you work (I’m looking at you, England). Here, you sit down around a table, and you enjoy your food.

Accordingly, a two-hour lunch break is also customary; The French are often baffled as to what you’re supposed to do with “only” an hour.

My colleagues use their breaks to take or teach classes, exercise, or enjoy a leisurely meal in a restaurant — none of which had ever been possible with the 30 to 60 minutes I’d grown used to back home.

Remember how I said it was acceptable to have a drink with lunch?

Apparently, it’s also acceptable to have a drink before lunch, after lunch, and at essentially any time of the day, if there’s even the smallest occasion to celebrate.

I was served more champagne in my first two months in the office than I had been, cumulatively, in my entire life until that point.

One time, several bottles were opened for a colleague’s going-away breakfast at 11:30 a.m. It was tough going, but I adapted to this particular culture shock as uncomplainingly as I could …

My new vacation allowance changed my life


Woman standing next to blue water at Côte d'Azur

In France, I’ve had more paid vacation time than ever.

Jodie Hughes



Another early discovery was that work-life balance is everything in France.

The culture of competition I’d experienced in England — the peculiar bragging over who was arriving at the office earliest and leaving latest (read: burning out fastest) — was completely absent.

Leisure time feels ferociously protected here, to the extent that employees legally have the “right to disconnect” (ignore job-related calls and emails outside work hours) and the French are not shy about enforcing their rights.

Additionally, when I was informed of my vacation allowance, I was sure I must have mistranslated something: I had over five weeks of annual leave in my first year, and that’s not including the 11 public holidays.

In France, workers are generally required to take at least two consecutive weeks’ vacation. These breaks often falls between July and August, and swaths of employees disappear for an entire month.

It’s quite a contrast to the situation I’d left behind in England, where taking two weeks’ vacation in a row was considered a real extravagance. This is perhaps unsurprising, given I was never entitled to more than four weeks total annual leave.

That means everything pretty much grinds to a halt in the summer — pretty inconvenient when you’re in the middle of a project and all your colleagues are OOO until September.

But it also opened my eyes to just how life-changing that kind of balance can be, and has been one of the most incredible parts of relocating to France.

Adapting to such starkly different workplace norms from the ones I’d known in England has been a real roller-coaster ride — but there have definitely been plenty more ups than downs.

Ultimately, the experience has been as enjoyable as it has been surprising. Champagne, anyone?




Source link