The war between Russia and Ukraine has reached a new and sobering stage. The war is no longer simply about dug-in frontline combat and continuous artillery duels—it’s increasingly characterized by Ukraine’s capacity to strike deep within Russian territory with pinpoint, destructive blows. With a stronger opponent and fewer resources, Kyiv has been relying on creative tactics and new technologies to strike Russia where it is most vulnerable: its energy pipelines, logistics centers, and other strategic targets.
This transformation was not immediate. Initially, Ukraine devoted its limited firepower to front-line targets, normally constrained by Western-provided weapons restrictions. But as sanctions proved unsuccessful in debilitating Russia’s economy and the Russian war machine kept moving forward, Ukraine took matters into its own hands. Locally manufactured long-range missiles and drones—unhampered by foreign constraints—opened up avenues for conflict, enabling Kyiv to attack refineries, warehouses, and even targets close to Moscow.
The toll has been grim. Amateur researchers and analysts have reported that Russia’s energy infrastructure alone has cost it billions of rubles in lost output, with dozens of oil refineries and storage facilities hit in the past year. Satellite imagery indicates that many remain down, hampered by fear of another attack, lack of spares, or economics. One especially high-profile strike against Feodosia, Crimea, destroyed 11 storage tanks, with damages running in the billions.
But the impact is more than financial damage. Russia has had to cut refining production, institute export restrictions, and reroute fuel throughout its massive territory. Fixing it is a gradual and costly process, usually more than what the missiles and drones cost. In an attrition war, this disparity helps the aggressor, at least to the point that it disrupts the other side’s activity.
Military targets also have not been spared. Ukrainian bombardment knocked out ammunition storage facilities at Toropets and Tikhoretsk, which are big logistics headaches for the Russians. Stored hundreds of thousands of tons of ammunition that directly impacted frontline combat activity, particularly if raid times are precisely targeted. Operation Spiderweb, for instance, had drones launched from tractor-trucks attack several air bases, destroying a high number of Russia’s nuclear-capable aircraft within hours.
Even with this, these penetrations are not weakness-free. Although they change the character of the battlefield and compel Russia to evolve, they infrequently deliver a knock-out punch on their own. Ukraine is usually not able to fully take advantage of the dislocation, as it does not have sufficient ground troops to fill the holes. It remains an attrition war, and quantity and depth of defense continue to mean more than clever penetrations.
Russia has retaliated, striking Ukrainian energy infrastructure, power stations, and civilian sites. Millions have been left without electricity, homes without heat or water. The humanitarian cost is dire, with hundreds of civilians dead and wounded every month, and port and railroad destruction menacing food exports and aid shipments.
The psychological and strategic implications of Ukraine’s deep strikes are more difficult to quantify but equally significant. Bombing Russian land erodes the perception of invincibility, boosts the morale of Ukrainians, and undermines Russian disinformation. It also provides Kyiv with leverage in negotiations with its Western partners. Refinery destruction, for instance, has struck at Russia’s budget directly and disrupted fuel supply.
But the war machine is powerful. Russian refining capacity is vast, with huge expanses out of range of Ukrainian artillery. Even if Kyiv shut down all facilities within range, Russia would be able to maintain enough production to keep military operations going. Shortages only hit private consumers, but the frontlines press on.
The teachings of these raids are straightforward. Contemporary wars are increasingly characterized by the dynamics among technology, resilience, and size. Low-cost navigation tools, space images, and vast communication networks allow very precise attacks, but large and duplicated infrastructure is hard to destroy. Russia’s immense space is both a protection and a logistics problem—making attacks easy but repair agonizing and expensive.
In the end, Ukraine’s campaign of deep strikes has compelled both sides to innovate and up the ante. Kyiv’s lightning-quick, test-and-learn cadence—crowdsourced solutions, rapid iteration, and hyped victories—has experienced rapid development, if not necessarily strategic return. Russia, however, continues to compartmentalize its response, retaliating with pick-and-stick but leaving the broader war in suspended animation. The human cost rises as the war increasingly targets infrastructure, inviting the world to bear witness to a new frontlines’ battlefield: the networks that feed nations.
As the war enters its fourth year, the question persists: Will these precision bombings and unconventional tactics shift the balance, or will brute resources and force prevail once more? For now, at least, the answer is inscribed in plumes of smoke above blown-up refineries, in rolling power blackouts, and in relentless thrusting by armies locked up tight in a war each cannot readily win.
