What Earlier Ammunition Revolutions Reveal about Sustaining Uncrewed Systems in a Small and Dispersed Force.

Recent RNZAOC.com articles have examined two sides of the drone problem. The first reviewed the rise of uncrewed systems as instruments of war in Ukraine, where reconnaissance, strike and electronic attack have become routine features of the battlefield.[1] The second considered drones as logistics enablers for New Zealand’s small, motorised and widely dispersed land force.[2] This paper turns the lens around. It asks what happens when the drone itself, and the network of batteries, payloads, software, spares, launchers and countermeasures around it, becomes an item of supply.
That is not a narrow cataloguing question. Classification determines who demands an item, who may hold it, where it may be stored, how it is inspected, what technical records follow it, how it is issued, when it is counted as expended and how it is recovered or disposed of. A drone can be an aircraft, a weapon platform, a sensor, a communications node, an expendable effector or a guided munition. Its batteries may be ordinary stores for one purpose and dangerous goods for another. Its payload may be ammunition even when the airframe is not. A counter-drone capability may combine radars, electronic-warfare equipment, gun ammunition, interceptor drones and missiles within one tactical system.
The question for the New Zealand Defence Force is therefore not simply, ‘Which class of supply contains drones?’ It is whether existing ammunition, equipment and stores policies can express the several identities of modern uncrewed systems clearly enough to support safe, rapid and accountable operations. The answer should be sought before mass introduction, because history suggests that organisational and technical consequences arrive soon after the new weapon, and usually sooner than the paperwork.
The historical pattern
Ordnance history is full of technologies that first appeared to be a new nature of store and then altered the surrounding logistics system. Quick-firing artillery introduced cartridge cases, more complex fuzes and new inspection and repair work. Mortars created families of bombs, propelling charges and specialised accessories. Wartime expansion turned ammunition supply into a question of magazines, depots, transport, labour and risk. Responsibility moved between artillery and ordnance organisations until duplication and ambiguity could no longer be tolerated.
| Historical transition | Logistics consequence | Contemporary drone parallel |
| Quick-firing and breech-loading artillery ammunition | Specialist inspection, cartridge-case recovery, local repair and refurbishment | Modular repair, battery management, software control and technical data |
| Rifle grenades to light and medium mortars | New weapons, ammunition natures, training, production and distribution | Movement from commercial systems to standardised drone families |
| Mackesy’s 1939 modernisation and mobilisation review | Equipment, ammunition, reserves, storage, transport, workshops and trained personnel treated as one capability problem | Acquire drones and countermeasures with the complete support system, not as stand-alone items |
| Wartime expansion of anti-aircraft, anti-tank and artillery ammunition | More magazines, depots, people, transport and risk-managed storage | Distributed operational holdings and much higher consumption rates |
| Artillery and ordnance responsibility changes | Duplication, blurred boundaries and eventual consolidation | Potential overlap among aviation, ammunition, signals, engineering and logistics authorities |
| Inspection and repair of returned ammunition | Recovery, segregation, refurbishment, condemnation and disposal | Post-mission recovery, data sanitisation, battery disposal, technical investigation and demilitarisation |
The comparison is not exact. A lithium battery is not a cordite charge, and a software-defined flight controller is not a mechanical fuze. The useful historical point is institutional: each leap created new interfaces between supply, safety, maintenance, training and command. The burden was seldom carried by a single ledger category.
The First World War lesson: new technology creates a technical trade
The Royal New Zealand Artillery’s Army Ordnance Corps Section grew from the need to manage increasingly technical ammunition work. The shift to quick-firing ammunition did more than increase the rate of fire. It created recoverable cartridge cases, inspection tasks and repair activity requiring trained personnel, specialist tools and defined responsibility.[3] The ammunition remained ammunition, but the organisation supporting it acquired characteristics of a technical service.
Modern uncrewed systems pose the same organisational pressure in a different medium. Units may be able to replace a propeller or motor in minutes, but a damaged battery, corrupted flight controller, compromised datalink or unauthorised firmware build carries consequences beyond simple mechanical serviceability. The technical trade must understand configuration, electromagnetic compatibility, data security, airworthiness where applicable, payload integration and the boundary between repair and unsafe improvisation.
The lesson is not that every drone should be handed to an ammunition technician. It is that a new family of stores becomes sustainable only when technical authority, training, inspection standards, repair levels and records mature together. If those elements are separated among different branches, the interfaces must be designed rather than assumed.
The mortar lesson: standardisation eventually defeats proliferation
New Zealand’s experience with grenades and mortars during the Second World War illustrates the transition from improvisation to standardisation. Mortars offered a comparatively simple means of delivering high explosive, smoke and illumination, but their apparent simplicity concealed a system of barrels, bipods, baseplates, sights, bombs, fuzes and propelling increments.[4] A weapon family had to be selected, produced or imported, taught, distributed and supported as a whole.
Early drone adoption commonly begins in the opposite direction: many commercial makes, rapid local modification, small batches and enthusiastic unit-level experimentation. That is useful for learning. It is also the beginning of a proliferation problem. Every additional motor, battery connector, controller, datalink, camera, firmware version and payload interface multiplies the demand for spares, tools, chargers, training and technical knowledge.
The mortar experience suggests that enduring military utility arrives when the force standardises enough of the system to sustain it without extinguishing adaptation. Common interfaces, controlled software baselines, approved payloads and interchangeable consumables matter more than cosmetic uniformity. The policy aim should be disciplined modularity: a limited number of supported families with enough open architecture to accept operationally necessary change.[5]
Local production and the limits of self-sufficiency
New Zealand’s wartime manufacture of munitions demonstrated both the value and the limits of local capacity. Domestic industry could reduce dependence on vulnerable overseas supply, respond to regional demands and build useful competence. Yet production was constrained by machine tools, gauges, energetic materials, skilled labour, quality assurance and access to components.[6] Capacity was not created by declaring an item locally producible; it depended on the entire industrial chain.

Drones can create a misleading impression of easy sovereignty because airframes can be printed, cut or assembled locally. The most important components may still be imported: cells, magnets, semiconductors, processors, cameras, radio-frequency components, navigation devices and specialist explosives. Local assembly can provide resilience, faster modification and repair, but it does not remove external dependencies. It changes where those dependencies sit.[7]
A realistic New Zealand policy would distinguish between what must be sovereign, what should be repairable, what can be stockpiled and what will remain dependent on trusted partners. The objective is not autarky. It is the ability to understand chokepoints, substitute components deliberately and continue essential functions when normal commercial supply is interrupted.
Mackesy’s warning: procurement is not capability
Major-General P. J. Mackesy’s May 1939 review of the Military Forces of New Zealand offers a particularly useful bridge between technological modernisation and logistics policy. The Army was not starting from nothing: modern equipment had been ordered and mobilisation planning was already under way. Mackesy’s concern was that partial modernisation did not yet amount to a force that could operate confidently in war. He treated equipment, ammunition, personnel, training, reserves, accommodation, transport and ordnance services as connected parts of one military system.[8]
The response to his Recommendations 42 and 43 is instructive. Modern fighting and technical equipment was considered alongside ammunition reserves and the magazines, garages and storage accommodation needed to support it. The later expansion of the Ordnance Depot and Ordnance Workshops establishments demonstrated the practical consequence: once modern equipment and technical stores entered service, the support organisation beneath them had to grow as well.[9]
The drone parallel is direct without being exact. Buying air vehicles, interceptors or missiles is not the same as creating a sustainable capability. Supply chains, technical data, configuration control, storage, charging, maintenance, trained personnel, repair capacity, transport and reserves must be designed before a crisis. For a small force, the support system is not an administrative attachment to the weapon; it is what makes the weapon operationally real.
The Second World War lesson: quantity becomes infrastructure
Between shortage and surplus lies a logistics problem. Wartime New Zealand had to expand magazines, depots, transport and staffing as the volume and variety of ammunition increased. Once quantities rose, the supporting infrastructure—not only the item—became the limiting factor.[10] The same effect will apply if drones move from boutique capability to mass consumption.

A force may be able to buy a thousand small drones faster than it can create safe charging areas, technical inspection capacity, secure software management, spares holdings, trained maintainers and transport packaging. Counter-drone interceptors and missiles intensify the problem because some are explosive stores requiring established ammunition controls, while others rely on batteries, sensors or radio-frequency components with different storage and maintenance needs.
Quantity also exposes hidden labour. Batteries must be cycled, inspected and recorded. Firmware and cryptographic material must be controlled. Payloads may need separate custody. Training losses must be forecast. Returned items must be quarantined or assessed. Damaged systems may contain sensitive data even when they have little material value. These are infrastructure and workforce demands, not merely procurement line items.
Storage has always been governed by risk rather than space
Ammunition policy traditionally begins with the hazard presented by the store: explosive classification, compatibility, quantity-distance, environmental requirements, security and surveillance. Drone systems add hazards that do not align neatly with their supply identity. A reusable reconnaissance drone may be equipment, its spare lithium batteries dangerous goods, its pyrotechnic recovery device ammunition, and its detachable warhead an explosive store. A one-way attack drone with an integral charge may need to be treated as a complete munition even though much of its body resembles commercial electronics.
Lithium batteries require particular care in transport, state-of-charge management, damaged-battery segregation and fire response. International air-transport guidance treats them through a dedicated dangerous-goods framework, independent of whether the host equipment is military or civilian.[11] That is a useful reminder: supply classification should support demand and accounting, while hazard classification should govern safe handling. The two systems must connect, but they should not be confused.
The practical requirement is a component-level hazard profile linked to the configured system. Stores personnel should be able to answer not only ‘What is this item?’ but ‘What is fitted to it now, what state is the battery in, what software and cryptographic material does it contain, and what restrictions follow from that configuration?’
Dispersion as resilience
New Zealand’s geography and small force structure favour dispersion, but dispersion trades concentration risk for control complexity. Historical ammunition systems distributed holdings through magazines and depots to keep weapons supplied and reduce vulnerability. The creation and movement of those holdings demanded accurate records, inspection routines, transport discipline and clear responsibility.[12]
For drones, dispersed holdings may be essential. A unit that depends on a single central pool of batteries, controllers or payloads is fragile even if the national inventory appears adequate. Yet uncontrolled distribution creates another vulnerability: incompatible fleets, unmanaged software, exhausted batteries, unrecorded losses and technical knowledge concentrated in a few individuals.
A resilient model would combine central assurance with decentralised execution. National or formation authorities would set supported families, configuration rules, safety standards, data requirements and repair policy. Units would hold usable scales, conduct authorised field repair, manage charging and submit reliable consumption and failure data. Distribution would be planned as part of the capability rather than added after procurement.
The 1945 lesson: complexity eventually forces organisational clarity
The evolution of New Zealand Army ammunition responsibilities between 1939 and 1945 shows how growth can expose awkward boundaries. Responsibilities split across artillery, ordnance and administrative organisations produced duplication and uncertainty until wartime experience drove clearer arrangements.[13] Organisational charts eventually caught up with operational reality.
Uncrewed systems sit across similarly awkward boundaries. Aviation authorities may govern airworthiness and airspace. Signals organisations may control spectrum, datalinks and electronic protection. Engineers may support repair and fabrication. Intelligence staffs may own sensor requirements and collected data. Ammunition authorities may govern warheads, initiators and explosive interceptors. Logistics organisations must forecast, store, distribute, recover and dispose of the whole system.
No single branch needs to own every aspect. Someone must, however, own the interfaces. A useful governance model would identify a lead capability authority, supported by named technical authorities for aviation, explosives, spectrum, cyber security, batteries and maintenance. Supply policy should make those relationships visible at the item and configuration levels.
One name, several supply identities
The word ‘drone’ is too broad to function as a supply classification. NATO’s generic classes of supply place ammunition and explosives in Class V, but reusable aircraft, repair parts, fuel and general stores sit elsewhere.[14] A modern uncrewed capability can span several of those identities at the same time. Classification should therefore follow function, configuration, recoverability and hazard—not the popular name of the object.
| System or component | Illustrative supply identity | Principal logistics consideration |
| Reusable reconnaissance or logistics drone | Equipment or major end item | Fleet management, repair, software, batteries and recovery |
| Reusable armed or delivery drone | Weapon platform and equipment | Platform accountability plus separate control of payloads |
| One-way attack drone with integral high explosive | Guided munition; Class V | Explosive safety, custody, surveillance, issue and expenditure |
| Non-explosive one-way kinetic system | Expendable weapon or controlled effector | Authorisation, configuration, loss and expenditure accounting |
| Reusable counter-drone interceptor | Weapon-system equipment | Turnaround, repair, battery condition and capture risk |
| Explosive interceptor or surface-to-air missile | Ammunition | Hazard division, compatibility, storage, inspection and life management |
| Electronic-warfare or directed-energy countermeasure | Equipment | Power, spectrum, software, cooling and technical maintenance |
| Chaff, flares and pyrotechnic decoys | Ammunition or expendable countermeasure | Explosive controls, issue, carriage and expenditure |
| Batteries, motors, propellers, sensors and controllers | General stores or repair parts | Compatibility, shelf life, dangerous goods and configuration |
| Inert, drill or training system | Training equipment or inert representation | Clear marking, segregation and realistic but safe handling |
A modular system may change identity when configured. The air vehicle might be reusable equipment in reconnaissance service, an expendable effector when fitted for a one-way mission, and part of an explosive munition after a warhead and initiator are installed. Policy must state which authority approves each configuration and when the corresponding controls begin.
Supply classification is not hazard classification
Three separate questions should be asked of every system. First, what is its supply identity for cataloguing, demand, ownership and financial accounting? Second, what hazards govern storage, handling and transport? Third, what operational controls govern arming, release, spectrum use, data and employment? A single label cannot answer all three.
This distinction prevents two equal and opposite errors. The first is to call every drone ‘ammunition’, thereby applying explosive-store processes to reusable equipment and ordinary components. The second is to call drones ‘commercial off-the-shelf equipment’, thereby overlooking warheads, initiators, pyrotechnics, hazardous batteries, controlled technology and the fact that some systems are intended to be expended on a target.
The appropriate policy instrument may be a classification matrix supported by configuration codes. It should allow a system to be catalogued coherently while generating the additional handling, security, technical and operational controls that its current configuration requires.
Expendable, consumable, attritable and recoverable
Traditional accounting often distinguishes durable equipment from consumable stores. Drones introduce an important middle ground: the attritable item. An attritable system is expected to survive some missions but may be lost at a rate that would be unacceptable for conventional aircraft. It is neither a permanent fleet asset in the traditional sense nor a round of ammunition guaranteed to disappear when used.
Policy should define at least four states. Reusable items are expected to return and remain individually accountable. Recoverable items are intended for retrieval even if not immediately reusable. Attritable items are expected to return when practicable but are planned and funded for significant loss. Expendable items are intended to be consumed in use. The same airframe family may contain more than one state depending on configuration and mission.
These definitions matter because loss does not always mean expenditure. A drone that fails to return may be destroyed, captured, abandoned, missing or awaiting recovery. Each condition has different implications for security, sensitive data, stock records, investigation and replenishment.
Forecasting for attrition and obsolescence
Ammunition forecasting is shaped by rates of fire, scales, training allowances and operational reserves. Drone forecasting must add platform loss, component failure, battery degradation, software obsolescence, training damage and enemy adaptation. Ukrainian reporting has frequently described very high monthly drone losses; such estimates illustrate wartime turnover but should not be adopted as a planning figure for New Zealand without context.[15]
The important planning change is that demand may be driven by iteration as much as consumption. A technically serviceable stock can become operationally obsolete when its control links are defeated, its navigation is jammed or its software cannot accept a required payload. Holding more of one frozen design may create apparent depth without usable resilience.
Forecasts should therefore separate airframes, payloads, batteries, repair parts and mission-system configurations. They should include an innovation allowance, authorised substitution rules and production lead times. Operational data on losses, faults, repair time and mission effectiveness must feed the demand model quickly enough to change purchasing decisions.
The drone supply chain
The apparent simplicity of small drones masks a global supply chain concentrated in batteries, motors, magnets, semiconductors, cameras, processors and radio-frequency components. Recent analysis describes a contest not merely over airframes but over the chokepoints that determine whether they can be produced at scale.[16] For a distant market such as New Zealand, transport time and supplier concentration magnify those risks.
Procurement should map critical components below the level of the finished system. Approved alternatives, second sources, software escrow where appropriate, technical data rights and test procedures may be more valuable than a large holding of proprietary airframes. A component that cannot be authenticated or integrated safely is not a useful substitute merely because it fits mechanically.
The supply chain also includes knowledge. A small force cannot afford a capability whose maintenance logic, diagnostic tools or configuration data remain entirely outside Defence. Contracts should be judged partly by the degree to which they create freedom of action after delivery.
Accounting for configuration
Serial-number accounting remains necessary for valuable, sensitive or reusable systems, but serial numbers alone will not describe operational state. The record must connect the airframe to its battery condition, approved software, radio configuration, payload interface and any controlled components fitted. A practical status model should distinguish:
- held but unconfigured stock;
- training configuration;
- operational configuration;
- issued to a unit or detachment;
- launched on a mission;
- recovered serviceable;
- recovered unserviceable;
- quarantined for technical, battery, cyber or explosive reasons;
- lost, abandoned or captured;
- expended; and
- demilitarised or disposed of.
The aim is not to create administrative friction around every inexpensive component. It is to apply proportional control at the points where safety, security, operational value or replenishment decisions depend on accurate status. Policy should permit aggregated accounting for low-risk consumables while retaining individual control of critical systems and configured weapons.
Maintenance and the right to repair
A drone force that cannot repair at the edge will consume transport and replacement stock at an unsustainable rate. At the same time, unrestricted modification can introduce airworthiness, electromagnetic, cyber and explosive risks. The solution is a tiered repair policy: authorised operator replacement of selected modules; unit-level diagnosis and exchange; specialist workshop repair; and controlled contractor or depot intervention for tasks beyond Defence competence.
Recent United States Army discussion of a drone-dominant future emphasises rapid learning, realistic training and the practical hurdles of fielding systems at scale.[17] New Zealand should expect the same tension between central assurance and local adaptation. The repair system must be fast enough to preserve operational tempo and disciplined enough to prevent untraceable configurations.
Technical data rights are therefore a logistics requirement. Defence should know whether it can diagnose faults, obtain or manufacture selected spares, load approved software, integrate payloads and continue operating if a vendor disappears. A cheap platform with no repair pathway may be more expensive in readiness terms than a costlier system designed for modular support.
Counter-drone and missile countermeasures
Counter-uncrewed-aircraft systems make the classification problem more visible because one defensive effect can be produced through several supply chains. Detection and identification may rely on radar, electro-optical sensors, acoustic arrays and command software. Defeat may use electronic attack, cyber effects, directed energy, conventional gunfire, reusable interceptor drones, expendable kinetic drones or guided missiles. Protection may include camouflage, hardening, decoys, dispersion and emission control.

Each method creates a different logistics signature. Electronic warfare consumes power, spectrum access, cooling capacity, software support and intelligence about threat waveforms. Directed-energy systems exchange ammunition tonnage for electrical generation, thermal management and specialist maintenance. Guns require conventional ammunition, barrels and fire-control support. Interceptor drones may be reusable, attritable or explosive. Missiles remain ammunition-intensive weapons with surveillance, storage-life and magazine requirements. Pyrotechnic decoys, chaff and flares are themselves controlled expendables.
Air and missile defence programmes demonstrate why acquisition must integrate the weapon, sensor, command system, training and sustainment plan rather than treating the interceptor as an isolated purchase.[18] For New Zealand, this is especially important because a small inventory can create a credible capability only if the complete kill chain is available and supportable. A launcher without serviceable missiles, a jammer without current threat libraries or an interceptor without charged batteries is not a partial capability; at the point of need it may be no capability at all.
Counter-drone policy should therefore avoid creating a separate administrative island. It should share a common architecture with the policy for friendly drones: configuration control, spectrum management, battery safety, software assurance, technical investigation, training expenditure and repair. Where an interceptor or missile contains explosives, established ammunition controls should apply. Where the effect is electronic or directed energy, equipment and technical-support rules should govern—but operational authorisation and reporting must still connect to the wider defensive system.
Does New Zealand need a new class of supply?
Probably not. A new universal class labelled ‘drones’ would recreate the ambiguity it seeks to solve. It would place reusable aircraft, explosive munitions, batteries, repair parts, software and electronic-warfare equipment together because they share a popular name rather than a logistics character. Existing equipment, ammunition and general-store categories can remain useful if they are connected by a coherent uncrewed-systems policy.
The stronger case is for an update to policy and process across those categories. The update could establish a common taxonomy; define reusable, recoverable, attritable and expendable states; link supply identity to hazard and operational controls; introduce configuration-aware accounting; set authorised repair levels; manage software and technical data; specify battery and damaged-item procedures; and integrate counter-drone systems and missile countermeasures into the same capability framework.
Controlled trials and policy design should answer that question, not terminology alone. A useful review would map representative systems from purchase to disposal, test the treatment of mixed configurations and identify every hand-off among capability, aviation, ammunition, signals, engineering, security and logistics authorities. The result should be simple at unit level because the complexity has been resolved in policy, data and support design.
Conclusion: the next ordnance transition
The history of New Zealand ammunition support does not provide a ready-made classification for drones. It provides something more useful: a warning about the institutional effects of new weapons. Quick-firing artillery created technical inspection and repair work. Mortars required standardised families of weapons and natures. Mackesy’s 1939 review showed that equipment orders were not capability until matched by ammunition reserves, storage, transport, workshops, trained personnel and mobilisation depth. Wartime quantities demanded depots, magazines, people and transport. Complexity forced clearer organisational responsibility.
Modern drones repeat that pattern across electronics, software, batteries, data and explosives. The central logistics error would be to treat them as either ordinary equipment or ammunition in all circumstances. They are systems whose components and configurations assume different supply, hazard and operational identities.
For a small and dispersed force, clarity matters more than administrative novelty. New Zealand does not necessarily need a new class of supply. It does need policies and processes that can recognise when a drone is equipment, when it is a munition, when its payload changes its status, when its battery creates a separate hazard, and when its loss is an expenditure, a security event, or both. The next ordnance transition will be measured not by how quickly the force buys drones, but by how reliably it can sustain, adapt, control and replace them.
Notes
[1]Robert McKie, “Review: Rise of the Machines—Drone Warfare in the Russia-Ukraine War,” To the Warriors Their Arms, April 13, 2026, https://rnzaoc.com/2026/04/13/review-rise-of-the-machines-drone-warfare-in-the-russia-ukraine-war/.
[2]Robert McKie, “Drones, Distribution and the Small Army: Logistics for New Zealand’s Motorised Infantry Future,” To the Warriors Their Arms, July 8, 2026, https://rnzaoc.com/2026/07/08/drones-distribution-and-the-small-army/.
[3]Robert McKie, “Royal New Zealand Artillery, Army Ordnance Corps Section,” To the Warriors Their Arms, March 15, 2017, https://rnzaoc.com/2017/03/15/army-ordnance-section/.
[4]Robert McKie, “Grenades and Mortars in New Zealand Service, 1944,” To the Warriors Their Arms, April 22, 2026, https://rnzaoc.com/2026/04/22/grenades-and-mortars-in-new-zealand-service-1944/.
[5]McKie, “Grenades and Mortars in New Zealand Service, 1944.”
[6]Robert McKie, “From Shortage to Surplus: Weapons, Ammunition, and the Limits of Capacity in New Zealand, 1941–1944,” To the Warriors Their Arms, April 27, 2026, https://rnzaoc.com/2026/04/27/from-shortage-to-surplus/.
[7]McKie, “From Shortage to Surplus.”
[8]“NZ Forces – Army – Report on the Military Forces of NZ by Major-General Mackesy (22 May 1939),” Archives New Zealand, R18871665 (1939).
[9]“Organisation for National Security, Chiefs of Staff Committee – Recommendations Nos. 42–43 of Mackesy Report – Supply of Modern Equipment for the Army and the Provision of Reserves of Ammunition, September 1939,” Archives New Zealand, R16640388 (1939); “Establishments – Ordnance Corps,” Archives New Zealand, R22441743 (1937–1968).
[10]McKie, “From Shortage to Surplus.”
[11]International Air Transport Association, Guidance Document for Lithium Batteries and Sodium Ion Batteries—2026, 8.
[12]McKie, “From Shortage to Surplus.”
[13]Robert McKie, “The Evolution of NZAOC Ammunition Responsibilities, 1939–1945,” To the Warriors Their Arms, May 29, 2018, https://rnzaoc.com/2018/05/29/the-evoloution-of-nzaoc-ammunition-responsibilities-1939-1945/.
[14]North Atlantic Treaty Organization, NATO Logistics Handbook (Brussels: NATO, 2012), annex to chapter 2, “Classes of Supply,” https://www.nato.int/content/dam/nato/legacy-wcm/media_pdf/pdf_2016_03/20160303_2012-logistics_hndbk-en.pdf.
[15]“Death from Above: Watch Ukraine’s Vampire Drone Take on Russian Troops,” Royal United Services Institute, May 17, 2024, https://www.rusi.org/news-and-comment/in-the-news/death-above-watch-ukraines-vampire-drone-take-russian-troops. The estimate should be understood as an indication of wartime turnover rather than a planning figure for New Zealand.
[16]Macdonald Amoah, Morgan Bazilian, Jahara Matisek, and Katrina Schweiker, “The Drone Supply Chain War: Identifying the Chokepoints to Making a Drone,” Center for Strategic and International Studies, December 9, 2025, https://www.csis.org/analysis/drone-supply-chain-war-identifying-chokepoints-making-drone.
[17]John Drew Hamilton, “Army Summit Presents Lessons Learned, Identifies Hurdles of the Drone Dominant Future,” United States Army, February 13, 2026, https://www.army.mil/article/290518/army_summit_presents_lessons_learned_identifies_hurdles_of_the_drone_dominant_future.
[18]United States Government Accountability Office, Army Modernization: Air and Missile Defense Efforts Would Benefit from Applying Leading Practices, GAO-25-107491 (Washington, DC: GAO, 2025), https://www.gao.gov/products/gao-25-107491.

