How one woman is breaking a military stereotype in Ukraine

The Ukrainian helicopter, returning from a mission firing rockets at Russian troops, swooped in low over a forest of birch trees and touched down in a clearing in a cloud of dust.

The door opened, and the pilot emerged, blinking away the dust with mascaraed eyelashes, her nails manicured a deep burgundy. She was carrying a heavy flight jacket over one arm, and a member of the ground crew rushed over to her to help her with it.

"Let me carry it," he said, but she waved him off. If I can land a helicopter, her body language suggested, I don't need help with my jacket.

"Guys always want to show that they're heroes and protect you," the pilot, a senior lieutenant named Kateryna, said in an interview later. "But I didn't come here to be a girl. At some point, our army will get it."

Ukraine, now in the fourth year of all-out war with Russia, is facing an urgent need for more soldiers, and after years of reluctance is stepping up efforts to get more women to serve.

The military has started recruitment campaigns for women and gender equality training courses for commanders as part of that effort. Since the start of Russia's invasion in 2022, the number of women in the armed forces has increased by 20 per cent, according to the Ministry of Defense.

But many women say that many impediments remain and that sexism is common within the ranks.

About 70,000 women are serving in the Ukrainian military, of whom just 5,500 are in combat positions. Kateryna is the only female combat pilot in the Ukrainian military, the military says, serving at a forward helicopter base with dozens of male pilots. Ukraine does not allow the last names of pilots to be publicized as a security precaution.

"I would love more women to fly," said Kateryna, adding that she had been the only woman among 45 men in her military flight school.

She said that very few women were studying to be pilots at Kharkiv National Air Force University, the country's leading military aviation institution, but that six had reached out to her on Instagram for advice. "I try to encourage them and tell them that they will make it," she said. The university said it was not authorised to disclose how many women were studying to be pilots.

Ukraine's government passed a law allowing women to serve in combat roles in 2018, four years after Russia first attacked eastern Ukraine.

But deeply rooted stereotypes among male commanders and rank-and-file soldiers remain difficult to overcome, and women tend to be marginalized and underutilised in the armed forces, Kateryna and activists say.

As a combat pilot, Kateryna says she has bonded with the other soldiers on a daily basis. But, she says, she often finds her abilities doubted.

"It's like that in any profession when you're a woman -- not just in the army," she said.

She said she was inspired to fly growing up on an air force base, where her father served as an officer. She was given a ride in a Mi-8 helicopter when she was 10, and decided she wanted to become a pilot. "It was so loud and so scary, but I felt that I wanted to fly it," she said.

When, at 16, she entered Kharkiv National Air Force University as the only female student, she said a teacher asked her: "'What are you doing here? This is not for girls. You will not make it." A female instructor on helicopter simulators inspired her to carry on, she said. "She told me not to listen to anyone, and I thought, if she can fly, why can't I?"

She joined the 18th Separate Brigade of Army Aviation in 2023 and began flying combat missions last September. Kateryna is a co-pilot and navigator on an Mi-8, a heavy, powerful Soviet-era machine with mostly manual controls, and has flown more than 30 combat missions.

"In flight, I love everything," she said.

A mission last week began at 6 a.m. Kateryna braided her blond hair into two tight braids that ran along her head, curved around her ears, and hung down over her shoulders. "So the hair doesn't bother me," she said.

She put on the male military uniform she wears, as the army doesn't provide uniforms made for women. She picked up a tablet computer she uses for navigating and stepped outside. Her crew, more than a dozen men, were already there, smoking and having coffee.

They discussed the route, which Kateryna had prepared in advance for a three-helicopter mission, then walked to their aircraft, hidden in a forest to protect against Russian missile attacks.

Kateryna put on her helmet, made herself comfortable in the seat, and with her right hand gripped the cyclic stick, and with her left, the throttle lever.

Her commander, a 26-year-old captain named Andriy, pressed the start button. Kateryna checked the navigation instruments. A few second later, the helicopter was in the air, and flew off toward the front.

The helicopters fly very low, at an altitude of 30 to 45 feet, popping over power lines and trees. Two helicopters fly ahead and a third behind. Close to the front, the third helicopter gains altitude and serves as a kind of retransmitting radio station for the leading two, which fire volleys of rockets at Russian targets.

This aircraft is known as the radio relay helicopter, which Kateryna pilots. Although it remains farther back than the striking helicopters, it is often in greater danger because of the higher altitude.

"I never stress during the flight," she said. "All the heavy thoughts can come before or after. During the flight, my mind is clear."

On missions, she said, "I fly and look over my country, thinking how beautiful it is, and then, when we enter the front-line area and I see how everything is destroyed -- burned and bombed -- the villages, towns, homes and factories, I think: how did we get here in the 21st century?"

Kateryna led the striking helicopters to the target and then sharply turned back after the rockets were fired. As the helicopters returned to the forest clearing, birds fluttered up in alarm and then three machines landed, safe after another mission.

"Once I hear on the radio that we hit the target -- like today -- I know the job is done," she said after she returned. "I feel like, 'phew, great, we completed our task.'"

Kateryna rarely sees her family and has promised to give her little sister a ride, but only after the war. She doesn't date anyone or have close friends in her brigade. "You can't force anything. If I meet someone, so be it," she said both of friendship and romantic relationships.

After combat missions, she unwinds by watching movies with fellow soldiers.

After the mission late last month, she put on comfortable black leggings and a hoodie and sat watching television with other soldiers, all men.

One of the other soldiers teased her, "Hey Katya, come on, lie down here and look beautiful -- you're in tights!"

Katya ignored the comment.

She has learned to tune out such comments, she said. She takes heart from the fact that she is respected by other pilots, and commanders now know she can fly.

"Possibly, I ruined the stereotype," she said.