When I went to military police One Station Unit Training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, in the summer of 2006, I remember my drill instructor looking at a training schedule; we were supposed to learn how to dig foxholes. He waved it off and said, “We’ll skip this. If you ever find yourself needing to dig a foxhole or a trench, something is seriously wrong.” He wasn’t wrong; for that era, doctrine didn’t prioritize field fortifications. That lack of training, combined with herniated discs, left me struggling when I had to dig trenches in the southern Donbas. Learning early 20th-century infantry operations became a baptism by fire. I managed to earn my stripes as a proper grunt nonetheless; this being my third war after Iraq and Afghanistan.
Much of the combat I experienced in Ukraine occurred during the static phase of 2022, where neither side launched significant offensives in the areas where I was deployed. I often felt futile in my role, reduced to praying artillery wouldn’t reduce us to pink mist. So I decided to enhance my capabilities. I started working with the local drone team of the Ukrainian Volunteer Army before transitioning to the International Legion, where I served as both a rifleman and drone operator. There was no dedicated drone unit at the time; my duties were ad hoc. Still, having ISR drone capabilities at the squad level was a game-changer. But it came with new responsibilities: I had to become a field technician. Hobbyist drones malfunction, and support was limited. This added stress contributed to my burnout, and I left in August 2022.
But being a war junkie, I came back a year later. The war had evolved. FPV drones were everywhere. I enrolled in a Ukrainian suicide FPV drone course outside Kyiv to learn a new skill set. Again, with this skill came technical troubleshooting duties. But I never got to apply them operationally; during training, I jumped from a Humvee, and my back and knee flared up. An MRI revealed I needed a knee replacement, along with four herniated discs. That effectively ended my ability to continue.
Since then, FPV proliferation has only increased. These drones now account for as much, if not more, lethality than artillery—traditionally responsible for 70% of battlefield deaths. I recently asked a colleague who serves with an SSO unit under Ukraine’s intelligence service (SBU) whether he was still doing direct action missions. His answer was curt: “No. That’ll get you killed.” Such missions do continue, but at far lower frequency.
Want to recon an enemy position? Use a drone. Want to strike enemy trenches? Use a drone. While Russia continues to conduct meat assaults, it’s a direct reflection of their military doctrine and political calculus; they accept staggering personnel losses as an operational norm. NATO forces cannot afford that. Our doctrine, engineering, and training emphasize minimizing casualties—not just out of moral concern, but because the public won’t stomach mass deaths. It’s a political liability. That’s why it’s imperative we learn from the Ukrainians.
Infantry doctrine must evolve. The rifleman is not obsolete, but the assumption that he doesn’t need to understand technology is. We sit on the edge of AI-powered autonomous systems; in the meantime, the more immediate shift must happen at the lowest echelons. Light infantry units in particular require smarter integration of emerging tech. Drone capabilities must be embedded at the squad level. Soldiers need technical literacy; they must troubleshoot, operate, and adapt to new tools in austere environments. We don’t train land navigation with GPS alone, yet we continue to act as though soldiers don’t need to wire batteries, understand servos, or navigate analog video signal relays. That thinking is outdated. A modern rifleman should know how to rig an FPV drone in the field; the ability of an infantry platoon to operate autonomously when supply chains falter is now an imperative.
Ukraine and Russia have both shown mastery in cost-reduction warfare. These are not industrial superpowers; they’re innovating in real time with limited means. Fighters on both sides adapt consumer electronics for battlefield use, build IEDs from rudimentary parts, and mount drones with custom payloads. They slap cope cages on tanks and IFVs; it may look crude, but the results matter. This level of adaptation at the tactical edge—improvisation, technical agility, and problem-solving under duress—is exactly what should be cultivated within U.S. infantry units. Promoting flexible doctrine at the squad level, where soldiers are empowered to shift tactics and implement creative solutions, is more than just a matter of battlefield survival; it’s the foundation of the modern infantry’s relevance. As technology replaces brute numbers, every soldier must punch above their weight. Encouraging autonomy, self-reliance, and innovation ensures that our infantrymen are not just surviving the fight; they are adapting and winning it.
The American military remains optimized for high-cost, low-casualty warfare with guaranteed logistics and air dominance. That world may not exist in the next fight. We must prepare to fight without ISR superiority or uninterrupted comms. We must prepare for warfare where we are not the richest force on the field. And yes, while it’s possible that our next conflict resembles asymmetric insurgencies like Iraq or Afghanistan, our focus must shift toward adversaries like China or Russia.
That doesn’t mean abandoning our traditional training; it means expanding it. Infantry must be trained for peer-to-peer, high-casualty, tech-dense environments. This includes greater familiarity with tactical drones, signal interference, software-defined radios, and improvised weapons. It includes fighting in degraded conditions without guaranteed air support. We must foster a culture where individual riflemen and their squads have the freedom—and responsibility—to adapt to the tactical challenge at hand. The ability to change tactics on the fly, to improvise with available resources, and to make independent decisions under fire must be nurtured through both training and doctrine.
This isn’t about turning every infantryman into a special operator; it’s about distributing key competencies once reserved for elite units. Skills in demolition, communications, drone operation, and even basic coding or electronics repair need to be pushed down to line units. The notion of the “dumb grunt” belongs to the past. Today’s rifleman must be technically competent, mentally agile, and tactically independent.
Drones, in particular, require much more attention in training. Soldiers must be able to distinguish the purpose and capabilities of different drone platforms—and know how to counter them. Understanding thermal signatures, FPV flight paths, and even radio frequency theory should be considered survival-level knowledge. If an adversary can target you from the sky, it’s no longer enough to simply shoot back.
Likewise, individual kit autonomy deserves more than a passing nod. As a contractor, I appreciated the freedom to configure my gear to suit the mission—until I saw what happened when we took shrapnel without enough coverage. The age-old tradeoff between armor and mobility should no longer be dictated by rigid standardization. Soldiers need the ability to tailor their loadouts based on mission requirements, body type, and terrain. The one-size-fits-all approach reduces combat efficiency; by promoting gear flexibility, we give soldiers the chance to fight smarter.
We must also recognize that infantry platoons operating in a contested logistics environment will need to innovate and sustain themselves autonomously. That means equipping and empowering them with not just the tools, but the mindset to adapt when supply chains fail. This level of autonomy will be vital as the number of soldiers on future battlefields decreases and the demands placed on each individual grow. Smarter, adaptable infantry isn’t just an advantage—it’s a necessity.
If Ukraine has taught us anything, it’s that the future battlefield will be shaped by those who can adapt the fastest—not necessarily those with the most expensive kit. American infantry is brave, professional, and disciplined. But bravery alone won’t close the gap.
It’s time we made our infantry smarter, not just tougher.