OPEN LETTER: Moscow, your bridges are falling — Ukraine cuts your lines one night at a time

Moscow, here is what Ukraine destroyed that night

I am writing to you, Moscow, in the style you understand: that of raw facts. In the night of June 24 to 25, 2026, Ukrainian forces struck three bridges in your occupied territories — a road bridge over the Korsak River in Zaporizhzhia, and two railway bridges over the Aidar and Luhanchyk rivers in Luhansk. The bridges you used to move troops and ammunition. The logistical arteries you thought were protected. That night, they were not.

The same night, a Skala-M Russian surveillance radar was struck near Kerch in Crimea, along with a Nebo early-warning system. A fuel depot in the Krasnodar Krai, on Russian soil itself, caught fire. The General Staff of the Ukrainian Armed Forces confirmed all of these operations. This was not a retaliatory strike or a disorganized action — it was a coordinated, systematic campaign of destruction targeting Russian supply lines in the south.

A campaign, not isolated blows

These nighttime strikes fit into a coherent strategy that Ukraine has applied with growing discipline since the war began. The objective is not spectacular — there is no single emblematic target here like the Kerch Bridge. It is the patient, methodical destruction of every bridge, road, and depot that allows the Russian army to operate in the territories it illegally occupies. Every bridge cut means a resupply convoy that never arrives. Food that runs short. Ammunition that falls short. Soldiers waiting in vain.

Three days earlier, on June 23, the Ukrainian air force had already struck a bridge supplying Russian troops in the occupied portion of Zaporizhzhia Oblast. Ukrainian intelligence had published images of strikes on Russian military trucks near Chonhar. The pace is sustained. The direction is clear.

I am addressing Moscow as an interlocutor who refuses to read the facts. But the facts are there, implacable: Ukraine is not retreating — it is advancing methodically, night after night, bridge after bridge. And that reality accommodates no Kremlin propaganda.

The road bridge over the Korsak — an artery severed

The road bridge over the Korsak River in Zaporizhzhia Oblast was not an ordinary civilian infrastructure. Ukrainian forces specified it was used by Russian forces to move troops and transport ammunition. In the logic of warfare, this distinction is fundamental: this bridge was a legitimate military target under international humanitarian law, precisely because it served to supply an occupation army.

Its destruction — the full extent of the damage still being assessed at the time of initial Ukrainian statements — deprives Russian forces of a resupply route in a sector where they operate under constant pressure. The Zaporizhzhia front is one of the most active in the conflict, and every break in the Russian logistical chain has direct operational consequences on the adversary's ability to hold its positions or launch offensives.

The strategy of access denial in southern Ukraine

The Zaporizhzhia region, partially occupied since 2022, is one of the territories for which Vladimir Putin signed an illegal annexation decree — an annexation that the vast majority of the international community refuses to recognize. It is also a region whose access routes from Russian territory pass through a limited number of crossing points that Ukraine methodically seeks to neutralize. The bridge over the Korsak was one such point.

This access denial strategy — preventing the enemy from reinforcing and resupplying its positions — is one of the pillars of Ukrainian military doctrine since 2023. It is all the more effective because Russian forces depend on long supply chains running from Russian territory and occupied areas. Cutting those chains means starving front-line units without having to engage them directly.

The positional war Ukraine is fighting is not passive — it is a war of logistical attrition, where every destroyed bridge raises the pressure on Russian soldiers whose fate, on the Kremlin's side, no one seems to genuinely care about. These soldiers are also dying for one man's ambitions.

Aidar and Luhanchyk — two rail strikes

The two railway bridges struck in Luhansk Oblast — one over the Aidar River, the other over the Luhanchyk — add a further strategic dimension. The railway network is, for Russian forces in eastern Ukraine, an essential logistical tool. Trains allow the movement of massive quantities of ammunition and equipment that road transport cannot absorb at the same scale.

By striking railway bridges, Ukraine targets Russia's capacity for bulk transport. Every destroyed railway bridge forces the Russians into costly detours, broken loads, and additional delays. Multiplied across the entire front, this cumulative effect is considerable. It is not the destruction of an entire railway line — it is the creation of bottlenecks that progressively paralyze the system.

Occupied Luhansk — the context of a territory under pressure

Luhansk Oblast has been fully occupied by Russian forces since July 2022. It is one of the four territories for which Putin pronounced illegal annexation. But full occupation does not mean Ukraine has given up on it. Ukrainian deep strikes in the Luhansk region are regular, and their effects accumulate. The Russian supply network in the region is under growing pressure.

Ukraine's ability to strike these infrastructures is made possible by the evolution of its long-range strike capabilities — drones, cruise missiles, locally produced ballistic missiles. This is where Western aid in technology and funding makes its full impact: it has allowed Ukraine to develop a deep-strike capability that the Russian army has failed to effectively counter.

Luhansk fully occupied and yet under Ukrainian strikes. That should give pause to those in Europe or elsewhere who believe the occupation of Luhansk is a permanent state of affairs. Nothing is permanent in this war, except perhaps Ukrainian determination.

Electronic warfare and the neutralization of Russian sensors

The strike against the Skala-M radar near Kerch carries particular strategic significance. The Skala-M is a tracking and surveillance radar designed to detect and follow aerial targets. By neutralizing it, Ukraine reduces Russia's capacity to monitor airspace above and around Crimea, creating blind spots in the Russian air defense network. The Nebo system, a long-range early-warning radar, performs a complementary function: detecting targets at great distance to enable an anticipatory response.

Striking both systems simultaneously significantly degrades the situational awareness of Russian forces in a crucial sector. It is also a message to the Russian Black Sea Fleet, whose navigation relies on operational radar intelligence. Fewer sensors means less information, less responsiveness, and greater vulnerability for Russian vessels and installations in Crimea.

The sequencing of strikes: a deliberate orchestration

The combination of strikes on logistical bridges, surveillance radars, and a fuel depot in a single night is not coincidental. It reflects sophisticated operational planning aimed at maximizing enemy disorganization by simultaneously attacking multiple nodes of its system. This is modern warfare doctrine applied rigorously: do not strike at random, but target the joints of the adversary's system to make it less effective overall.

The planning capacity this reveals is itself an indicator of the rising operational maturity of the Ukrainian armed forces. Two years ago, operations of this complexity were rare. Today they have become the operational norm. Ukraine has learned to wage war at a pace its enemy struggles to match.

Radars, bridges, depots — a single night, multiple systems degraded. That is modern warfare: less the frontal clash than the patient destruction of the systems that keep the adversary operational. Ukraine has grasped this. I am not sure Moscow has yet accepted it.

Striking inside Russian borders

The strike on the fuel depot in Krasnodar Krai, on Russian soil itself, crosses an important symbolic threshold. This is not the first time Ukraine has struck inside Russia — attacks on refineries, fuel depots, and military installations in Russia have become a regular component of Ukrainian strategy. But each new strike reminds the Russian population that their government has engaged in a war that is turning back on them.

The Krasnodar depot was used to supply Russian troops in the occupied Ukrainian territories. Destroying it at the source is more effective than trying to intercept convoys once they have crossed the border. This is the logic of Ukraine's deep-strike campaign: trace the logistical chain back to its origins to maximize the impact on the adversary's combat capacity.

The internal political implications inside Russia

Every strike on Russian soil also has an internal political dimension. Russian propaganda presents this war as a victory in progress, a distant conflict that Russians see on television but do not live through themselves. Ukrainian strikes in Krasnodar, in Orenburg, in border regions — they fracture that narrative. They remind ordinary Russians that their country is at war, and that this war has consequences at home.

Whether this significantly shifts Russian public opinion remains an open question. The Kremlin's propaganda machine is powerful, and dissenting voices are silenced. But the physical reality of fuel depots burning in ordinary Russian regions cannot be entirely erased by state television's evening broadcasts.

Krasnodar burns. Orenburg burns. And Russians watching Rossiya-1 may wonder why their patron told them everything was fine. I am not lecturing them — I am simply noting that reality always catches up with propaganda in the end.

Far more than communication routes

The strategic bridges targeted by Ukrainian strikes represent far more than simple communication routes. On the operational level, they constitute logistical nodes indispensable for resupplying Russian forces: ammunition, fuel, heavy equipment, reinforcements — everything passes through these structures that Russia cannot easily replace or reroute within acceptable timeframes. Each destroyed bridge creates a bottleneck in Russian supply lines, slowing equipment rotations and exhausting military bridging capacity.

On the symbolic level, destroying bridges sends a message to the Ukrainian population and to international opinion: Ukraine can strike the vital arteries of Russian logistics at significant distances, in areas that Russia considered secure. This message contributes to Ukrainian morale — essential in a war of attrition — and demonstrates to Western allies that their support is producing tangible, measurable military results.

Repair timelines as a strategic factor

Military field bridges — Russian PMP pontoons and their modern equivalents — can be established within hours by engineering units. But they have load limitations, throughput restrictions, and limited resistance to repeated strikes. Permanent reconstruction of a destroyed railway or road bridge is an operation taking weeks to months, requiring civil engineering resources that Russia must preserve from front-line use.

Every week a strategic bridge remains out of service is a week of degraded logistics for the Russian forces depending on it. Ukrainian aerial reconnaissance missions allow assessment of repair progress — and enable follow-on strikes to maintain pressure. This destroy-repair-destroy logic is particularly effective in a context where Russian engineering and construction material resources are themselves under strain.

Destroying a bridge is not just blocking a road. It forces the enemy to spend time, money, and human resources on repair rather than attack. Every destroyed bridge is a Russian engineering unit diverted from the front. Logistics as a weapon — Ukraine has understood this perfectly.

A predictable intensification of the logistical campaign

The coordinated strike on three strategic bridges in a single night is not an isolated event. It fits into a progressive escalation of Ukraine's campaign against Russian logistical infrastructure. Since 2023, Ukraine has systematically targeted fuel depots, command centers, railway hubs, supply lines — and now critical bridges at increasing distances. This geographic and qualitative progression of strikes is deliberate and planned.

For Russian military planners, the question is no longer whether logistical infrastructure will be targeted — but when and which. This permanent uncertainty forces Russia to disperse its protective resources, multiply alternative routes, and maintain costly pre-positioned stocks. Every investment in logistical protection is a resource diverted from offensive operations. Ukraine's strike campaign imposes its priorities on the enemy — the classic definition of strategic mastery.

Western allies faced with infrastructure strikes

Ukrainian strikes on bridges and logistical infrastructure raise a politically delicate question for some Western allies: how far do they support deep-strike operations? Some partners are more comfortable supplying defensive systems than supporting offensive strikes. But the line between defense and striking supply lines is difficult to draw clearly in a war of attrition where logistics is as vital as weapons.

The Ukrainian position is coherent and irrefutable: striking the bridges Russia uses to bring in the ammunition that kills Ukrainian civilians is legitimate self-defense. It is not escalation — it is a proportionate response to an ongoing aggression. Allies providing long-range strike systems must accept that these systems will be used in a militarily logical manner. Attempting to restrict Ukrainian use to purely defensive targets amounts to failing to understand the nature of this war.

Some allies want Ukraine to be defensive but not too offensive. That is an untenable position in a war of attrition. To win, you must cut enemy supply. And to cut supply, you must strike bridges. That is not escalation — it is elementary military logic.

Ammunition, precision, continuity

Nighttime strikes on Russian strategic bridges do not come for free. They consume precision munitions that Ukraine depends on partly from its Western allies. Every successful bridge strike represents the use of costly systems — cruise missiles, long-range drones, guided munitions — whose stocks are limited and whose replenishment depends on the political and industrial decisions of sometimes hesitant partners. This dependency is the concrete operational reality behind Ukrainian successes.

What allies can do is guarantee continuity in the supplies this campaign requires. Multi-year commitments on precision munition deliveries, industrial partnerships for local production, technology transfers to develop Ukrainian domestic capabilities: these form the support triad Ukraine needs to maintain continuous logistical pressure on Russian infrastructure. Not one-off promises — a durable architecture of support.

Allied coordination as a force multiplier

Ukraine's campaign against Russian logistical infrastructure would benefit from closer coordination with allied intelligence services for identifying priority targets. The United States, the United Kingdom, and other partners possess satellite surveillance and signal intelligence capabilities that could feed the list of the most strategically important targets in Russian logistics. This coordination, which already exists in part, could be strengthened without allies committing directly to operations.

It is precisely this type of intelligence support — discreet, targeted, out of the public eye — that can make the difference between an effective strike campaign and a series of costly operations without cumulative strategic impact. Allies hesitant to supply offensive weapons can nonetheless contribute massively to Ukrainian effectiveness by sharing their intelligence capabilities. This is a form of support with lower political cost but potentially high strategic impact.

Intelligence coordination between Ukraine and its allies is probably one of the least visible but most important factors behind the effectiveness of Ukrainian strikes. What you never see in the victory announcements is often what made them possible in the first place.

To the European states that still hesitate

This open letter is also addressed — perhaps above all — to the European capitals watching Ukrainian operations while wondering how far they can go. Every bridge struck in Zaporizhzhia, every radar neutralized in Crimea, every fuel depot ablaze in Krasnodar demonstrates that Ukraine is using the weapons and support it receives effectively. It does not waste them. It directs them with precision toward the objectives that make a difference on the ground.

To doubt the effectiveness of support for Ukraine is to ignore the available evidence. The results are there, measurable: Russian supply lines disrupted, surveillance capabilities degraded, Russian front-line units deprived of resupply. Continuing to support Ukraine is not an expenditure — it is an investment in collective security. And the bridges falling tonight in occupied territories are the most concrete proof of that.

The night will be long, but the dawn belongs to Ukraine

Difficult battles remain, nights of strikes, sacrifices beyond our comprehension. But the movement is there, clear and irreversible: Ukraine advances. Not always on the physical terrain of the front — sometimes on the logistical terrain, the terrain of attrition, the terrain of enemy infrastructure crumbling one night at a time. Three bridges, a radar, a depot. The night of June 24 to 25, 2026 is a perfect illustration.

Moscow, your lines are cut. And every bridge that falls brings you closer to a reality you refuse to confront: this war, you cannot win it as long as Ukraine fights and the West supports it. Keep sending drones, keep striking cities — Ukraine keeps cutting your roads, and the truth of this conflict will eventually catch up with you.

Three bridges in a single night. A simple, blunt, necessary message: Ukraine can reach what Russia thought was protected. And as long as allies supply the systems and the munitions, this campaign will continue — until the logistics of Russia's war become unsustainable.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

I do not claim the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which stops at reporting facts. I claim analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation and a deep understanding of the complex issues that concern us all. My role is to give meaning to the facts, to place them in their historical and strategic context, and to offer a critical reading of events.

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The analyses, interpretations and perspectives in the analytical sections of this article are a critical, contextual synthesis based on the information available, the trends observed and the expert comments cited in the sources consulted.

My role is to interpret these facts, to set them in the context of today's geopolitical and economic dynamics, and to give them a coherent meaning within the larger story of the changes shaping our time. These analyses reflect expertise built through continuous observation of international affairs and an understanding of the strategic mechanisms that drive global actors.

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