When an air raid siren goes off in the dead of night, armed women rush to duty.
Only two months since she joined the air defense, 27-year-old Angelina has perfected her military skills. She was behind the wheel of a pickup truck with an anti-aircraft machine gun in place, singing a Ukrainian song about the rebellion.
Under a tree line near the Kiev suburb of Bucha, she and her unit of five women set up their weapons and waited.
They fired until the Russian Shahed drone was shot down, thus eliminating another threat to everyday life in Ukraine.
Shooting down a drone brings her joy. "It's just an adrenaline rush," said Angelina, who, like the other women in the unit, gave a statement on the condition that only their first names or call signs be used, in accordance with military policy.
Women are increasingly joining volunteer mobile units responsible for shooting down Russian drones terrorizing Ukrainian civilians and energy infrastructure as more men are sent east to the front lines.
While women make up only a small part of the country's armed forces, their service is vital.
With tens of thousands of men reportedly being recruited every month, women have begun to fill traditionally male roles.
About 70 women have been recruited into the defense forces of Buča in recent months for operations against drones, said the territorial defense commander of the area, Colonel Andrii Velarti.
It is part of a national drive to attract part-time female volunteers to fill the ranks of local defense units.
Women come from all walks of life. From single mothers to doctors like Anđelina, who call themselves "witches from Buča".
Some of them were motivated to volunteer because of the Russian massacre of hundreds of Bucha residents during the months-long occupation of the Kiev suburb by Russian troops shortly after the February 2022 invasion.
The bodies of men, women and children were left on the streets, in houses and in mass graves.
"We were here and saw these horrors," said Anđelina, who treated wounded residents, including children, during the Russian occupation.
When in June, while driving with her friend Olena, also a doctor, she noticed a sign calling for recruits on the highway, they did not hesitate to sign up.
"We called and were immediately told, 'Yes, come tomorrow,'" she said.
At a training session in the woods this month, female recruits ranging in age from 27 to 51 were tested on how quickly they could assemble and disassemble rifles. "I have eighth graders who can do it better," shouted their instructor.
Recruits were taught various weapons and mines, tactics and how to detect Russian infiltrators. Their skills are adapted to a war where their enemy's methods are always changing.
"We train no less than men," said Lidija, who joined a month ago.
Lidija, a 34-year-old saleswoman with four children, said her main motivation was to do her part to protect her family. Her children look at her differently since she started wearing military uniforms.
"I've always been the best for them, but now I'm the best in a slightly different way," she said.
She was on duty on July 31 when Russia launched 89 drones, all of which were destroyed. Lidija was the machine gunner's assistant that night.
"We got ready, we went to the call, we found out that there are many targets all over Ukraine," she said. "We had night vision devices so it was easy to spot the target."
What did she feel when her unit shot down three drones? "Joy and some bad language," said Olena.
When the sun rose, Angelina and Olena took off their heavy combat gear and went to the hospital. Another shift, this time in the intensive care unit of the hospital where they work, was about to start.
By midnight they would be back near the tree line, waiting for the incoming Russian drones. "I slept for two hours and forty minutes today," said Olena.
Their boyfriends are soldiers, and Angelina met her boyfriend in the hospital where he was recovering from a battle wound.
The large number of wounded Ukrainian soldiers was one of the reasons why she decided to volunteer.
"To bring us closer to victory. If we can do something to help, why not?" she said
Angelina's boyfriend worries every time she's on duty and the air raid alarm goes off. He texts her, "be careful" and when it's over, "text me" despite it being much scarier on the front lines, she said.
Russian drone attacks tend to be more intense at night, but daytime attacks are just as deadly. The unit spends entire nights driving back and forth from its base in the forest to the position.
Sometimes they stand for hours waiting to shoot.
"There's nothing easy about it. To beat him, you have to train all the time," Angelina said. "I have to train constantly, including on simulators".
Their platoon leader, a self-assured woman with a long braid who wears the call sign Calypso, leads training in marksmanship, assault skills and combat medicine every Sunday.
There is no difference between a volunteer and a volunteer, she said.
"From the moment we come to serve, sign the contract, we are no longer women, we are soldiers," she said. "We have to do our job, and the men understand that too. We don't come here to sit and cook."
"I have a feeling the girls and I would shoot these drones down with our bare hands, with a stick, if we had to. Anything to stop them from falling on our children, friends and family."
Women in mobile units are on duty every two or three days. They work in groups of five, with a machine gunner, assistant, support, driver and commander.
The more women are trained to join the territorial defense forces, the safer the skies of Ukraine will be, Angelina said.
"This means that I can contribute at least a little to my mother sleeping peacefully, my brothers and sisters going to school peacefully and meeting their friends peacefully," she said.
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