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The United States Army Europe and Africa’s Troika Compendium, a comprehensive analysis of Russia’s Special Military Operation (SMO) in Ukraine, presents a sobering view of how the Russian military fights—and adapts.
Compiled over 27 months from February 2022 to May 2024, the document draws on hundreds of field-level observations and categorizes them according to the U.S. Army’s six warfighting functions: command and control, intelligence, fires, movement and manoeuvre, sustainment, and protection.
The resulting picture is one of a military system that is rigid, hierarchical, often corrupt, but far from static. Despite early setbacks and persistent structural flaws, Russian forces have demonstrated a capacity to learn and adjust, if not always efficiently or coherently. The report makes clear that this is a military shaped by Soviet doctrine but evolving—sometimes painfully—under battlefield pressure.
Centralized Command, Stretched Thin
At the heart of Russia’s approach is a rigidly centralized command system rooted in the concept of upravleniye voiskami—or “management of forces.” This top-down model emphasizes strict control over decentralized initiative, in stark contrast to Western doctrines like “mission command.” Russian commanders are ultimately responsible for both planning and execution, but rely heavily on dense “decision maps,” centrally issued orders, and long-established hierarchies. The role of the Chief of Staff is pivotal—not merely a planner, but the second-in-command who oversees all staff functions from logistics to operations.
This centralization proved costly in the early stages of the invasion. Some Russian units crossed into Ukraine without knowing their mission or destination. The secrecy intended to preserve operational security instead led to chaos and collapse. Others, like elements of the elite 1st Guards Tank Army, abandoned their equipment and simply walked away.
Compounding these issues is the Russian military’s long-standing failure to invest in a professional non-commissioned officer (NCO) corps. Sergeants exist in name only, with no formal leadership training or operational authority. As a result, junior officers—often lieutenants—carry the burden of frontline leadership. In many cases, senior officers, including generals, were forced to take personal command of stalled operations, often resulting in their deaths. By late 2023, confirmed Russian officer fatalities included more than 3,000 personnel, among them multiple generals.
An Intelligence Apparatus Playing Catch-Up
Russia’s intelligence operations were similarly centralized and slow to adapt. The failure to target and disable Ukrainian command and control nodes early in the war allowed Kyiv to maintain operational cohesion. ISR (intelligence, surveillance, reconnaissance) processes were stove piped, reactive, and frequently failed to translate into actionable targeting data.
Over time, Russian forces improved ISR-to-fires integration. Commercial drones began filling gaps in battlefield awareness, and loitering munitions became a critical part of the targeting ecosystem. Still, the report notes that Russia’s intelligence architecture struggled to keep pace with Ukraine’s dynamic, often more decentralized operations.
Firepower Dominance, With Limits
Russia’s reliance on artillery—the so-called “God of War”—has remained a defining feature of its campaign. Fires planning and execution are heavily centralized, with Russian doctrine favouring massed effects over precision. While this approach allowed Russian forces to dominate certain phases of the war, it also exposed critical weaknesses: sluggish responsiveness, overdependence on ammunition supply lines, and a lack of modern counterbattery capabilities.
Yet adaptation was evident. The increasing use of drones for target acquisition and loitering munitions for tactical strikes indicated an evolving doctrine. However, logistical constraints meant artillery ammunition had to be rationed, and the slow pace of battlefield coordination often limited the tactical advantage that Russian fires might otherwise have delivered.
From Blitzkrieg to Bakhmut
If Russia began the war with ambitions of manoeuvre warfare and rapid seizure of key objectives, the reality forced a dramatic recalibration. The attempted lightning strike on Kyiv failed. Subsequent operations shifted toward positional warfare—slow, grinding advances, often at staggering human and material cost. Battles like Mariupol and Bakhmut consumed resources without decisive strategic returns.
Mechanized manoeuvre was frequently undermined by poor combined-arms integration, overstretched supply lines, and failure to maintain operational tempo. Russian airborne and naval infantry units were often used in static reinforcement roles, further undercutting mobility. Urban warfare became a costly substitute for the fluid operations Russia had planned but failed to execute.
Sustainment: A Crumbling Foundation
Few areas reflect Russia’s miscalculations as starkly as sustainment. The war was launched on the assumption that it would be swift, with minimal need for large-scale mobilization. This proved disastrously wrong. Within weeks, the Russian military began pulling obsolete vehicles from storage, struggled to clothe and equip new recruits, and faced crippling logistical delays.
By September 2022, Moscow had authorized the first mass mobilization since World War II—an acknowledgment of just how unprepared it was. Mobilized troops often arrived at the front untrained and unequipped. The logistics chain, heavily reliant on rail and centralized depots, failed to adapt quickly. Ammunition shortages, poor vehicle maintenance, and gaps in basic provisioning plagued units across the theatre.
Russia’s defence industry was pushed into overdrive, with factories operating 24/7 and defence spending more than doubling to 8.7% of GDP by 2024. Belarus, North Korea, and Iran were tapped to supply equipment and munitions. But even by then, Russian forces were often operating with fewer resources and lower readiness levels than when the war began.
Protection at a Price
Force protection efforts—minefields, trenches, electronic warfare—were extensive but costly. Armoured vehicle losses mounted, and Russia’s famed Black Sea Fleet suffered significant degradation. Entire formations had to be withdrawn or reconstituted. Electronic warfare was deployed widely, with GPS jamming and spoofing disrupting Ukrainian drone and artillery capabilities. Yet these defences often served more to delay than to deter.
Morale suffered. Russian troops deployed for extended periods without rotation, under poor leadership, and in many cases, without adequate support. Reports of hazing, abuse, and extrajudicial punishment were widespread. In one widely circulated incident, conscripts were stripped, beaten, and humiliated in front of their units—a symptom of the coercive culture that substitutes for professional discipline.
The Corrosion of Corruption
Undergirding nearly every shortcoming detailed in the compendium is corruption. The Russian military operates in a system where graft is both tolerated and expected. Senior officers routinely diverted resources for personal gain. In 2024, the Kremlin began purging the upper ranks—Deputy Defence Minister Timur Ivanov and General Vadim Shamarin were among those arrested or forced into retirement. These moves, while dramatic, did little to change a system in which even senior commanders joked publicly about preparing to flee with bags of cash in the event of regime collapse.
A Cautionary Conclusion
Despite these setbacks, the Troika Compendium concludes with a warning: Russia’s military, for all its dysfunction, is adapting. It is rebuilding its force structure, integrating new technologies, and recalibrating doctrine. The learning curve is uneven, but it exists. What began as a mismanaged invasion has evolved into a long war—and the Russian military, though battered, remains capable and dangerous.
Ramananda Sengupta
