In the Donetsk region of Ukraine, the eerie calm before dawn is shattered by the distant roar of artillery fire. Amidst the darkness, a soldier named Viktor takes refuge in a trench, his silhouette illuminated by the glow of a cigarette. Overhead, the relentless buzz of a drone patrols the skies, its presence a constant reminder of the perilous reality below. Viktor watches warily as the drone passes by, exhaling a sigh of relief as it moves on.

"It's ours," Viktor murmurs, his voice tinged with both weariness and determination, before taking another drag from his cigarette.

Further Escalation: Russia Initiates Fresh Front in Ukraine Conflict. Is Ukraine's Position Weakening Against Russian Forces?

As the sun ascends, the cacophony of warfare intensifies. Viktor, deprived of sleep for weeks, endures relentless assaults from Russian drones and artillery. By day, he vigilantly monitors the minefield dividing the opposing forces, wary of any attempts at infiltration. Come nightfall, he takes up his shovel, fortifying his trench against the persistent threat.

"They never cease their barrage, cease their probing," Viktor remarks wearily. "Survival is our only option; holding the line is imperative."


The dawn breaks over Ukraine's eastern front line, signaling the beginning of yet another exhausting day. With bated breath, Viktor listens to his crackling radio, striving to minimize any movement within his trench situated less than 800 meters from the amassed Russian troops. For seven long months, Viktor and his unit have staunchly defended this sector of the front, steadfastly repelling wave after wave of Russian attacks.

Entering the third year of unabated conflict, Ukraine's highest-ranking military officials openly acknowledge the worsening state of affairs on the eastern front. With two years of relentless warfare depleting ammunition and manpower, the country's failed counter-offensive last year dealt a severe blow to morale.

Further Reading: Ukraine Conflict Escalates as Russia Intensifies Military Offensive, Blinken Visits Kyiv


During Reuters' April journey along the eastern expanse of Ukraine's 1,000-kilometer front line, soldiers across infantry, artillery, and drone units voiced their overwhelming exhaustion. They lamented a critical shortage of ammunition and the urgent necessity to reinforce troop numbers. Moscow's recent offensive near Kharkiv, Ukraine's second-largest city, is poised to further drain precious resources, diverting both ammunition and personnel from other sectors of the front and stretching Kyiv's military capacity perilously thin amidst a pivotal phase of the conflict.


Despite Congress finally approving a long-delayed $60 billion U.S. military aid package in April, analysts caution that a global scarcity of artillery shells will likely leave Ukraine outmatched by Russia for the remainder of the year, even as Kyiv's allies ramp up production. Reuters was unable to independently verify the extent to which new U.S. weaponry has reached the front lines. During a recent visit to Kyiv, Secretary of State Antony Blinken reassured Ukraine that the delayed aid was "now on the way," with some shipments already delivered.


Further Developments: Trump Allegedly Considers Pressuring Ukraine to Surrender Territory to Russia as War Resolution

Despite recent statements from Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelenskyy denying artillery shortages, in a recent interview with Reuters, he urged Western allies to expedite aid delivery, citing a consistent delay of approximately one year in their decisions regarding military support for Ukraine.

With the looming possibility of Donald Trump, a vocal critic of American military aid to Ukraine, reclaiming the presidency later this year, many Ukrainians harbor concerns regarding the steadfastness of support from their most influential ally.

Additional Update: Ukrainian Olympic Weightlifter Oleksandr Pielieshenko Killed in Conflict with Russia Meanwhile, Russia persists in its relentless assault on Ukraine, seemingly equipped with boundless resources.

Russian President Vladimir Putin, emboldened as he embarks on his fifth term, has intensified his military campaign. Beginning with the 2014 incursion where Russian-backed separatists sought control over Ukraine's Donetsk and Luhansk regions, Putin has consistently aimed to annex the entire Donbas area. This objective has been reinforced since 2022, leading to steady advancements by Russian forces. In a significant move this February, they seized the eastern city of Avdiivka.


Currently, Russia is making attempts to capture Chasiv Yar, a crucial hilltop city. Its capture would provide Russian troops with a strategic advantage in advancing towards the remaining cities of the Donetsk region. Ukrainian President Zelenskyy informed Reuters that Russia's recent actions in Kharkiv have diverted global attention away from the intense battles unfolding in the Donetsk region.


Both the Ukrainian armed forces and the Russian defense ministry declined to comment on inquiries for this report.

Freezing in the trenches

Prior to Russia's full-scale invasion two years ago, Viktor, serving as an infantryman, worked as a window framer in Uman, a city located in central Ukraine. At that time, his wife had recently given birth to their baby daughter. (For consistency with military protocol, Viktor, like all other Ukrainians mentioned in this report, preferred to be identified by his first name only.)

Four months into the conflict, Viktor received his mobilization notice and was swiftly deployed to a northern Ukrainian area bordering Russia, tasked with digging trenches. Later, he was reassigned to Bakhmut in eastern Ukraine, where he found himself amidst the fierce fighting as mercenaries from Russia's Wagner group sought to seize control of the city. In September of last year, Viktor was entrusted with a Browning machine gun and received training on its maintenance, despite never having fired a single practice round. Shortly thereafter, he was deployed to the front lines in Donetsk.



Upon Viktor's infantry unit's initial arrival, the landscape boasted lush thickets of oak and birch trees, adorning the grassy fields. Back then, birds still inhabited the trees, and the leaves had just begun their seasonal transformation. As the soldiers hastily dug trenches into the resilient black soil, they lacked the opportunity to fortify them with wooden planks before the onset of Russian bombardment. Throughout the winter months, relentless Russian shelling decimated the once-thriving trees and fields, reducing them to mere ashes and leaving behind a chaotic array of charred stumps.

During the bitter winter, temperatures in Viktor's trench plummeted to as low as minus 15 degrees Fahrenheit. On comparatively milder days, ankle-deep water collected at the trench's base, intermingling with the soil to form a sludgy mud, saturating everything in its path. Meanwhile, Russian drones incessantly patrolled the skies, lingering above the exposed trench and unleashing grenades from above.

Earlier this year, Russian forces launched another assault, maneuvering an armored personnel carrier perilously close to Viktor's position. Reacting swiftly, he engaged the vehicle with his machine gun, steering it off course towards a nearby minefield, where it triggered an explosion upon detonating a mine.

According to Viktor and his commander, several Russian soldiers perished inside the vehicle, while others sustained severe injuries, attempting to navigate through the minefield back towards their own lines. Among them, Viktor recounts, was a former convict hailing from Russia's Buryatia region, who was subsequently captured. In the aftermath, Russian attacks on Viktor's position escalated significantly.


"Of course, the Russians were furious. They suffered losses in both equipment and personnel, so naturally, they retaliated by unleashing relentless shelling," Viktor explains.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Viktor emphasizes the solace found in prayer. Adorned around his neck are silver medallions depicting the Virgin Mary and the crucifix. However, in moments of dire desperation, he doesn't hesitate to call upon every deity he knows.

Following the failed assault by Russian forces, their drones began dropping gas canisters into Viktor's trench. A colorless, odorless gas swiftly enveloped the trench, prompting Viktor and his comrade to hastily don their gas masks in the darkness. Amidst the choking gas, Viktor sought refuge in a small hole dug into the trench's side, just tall enough for him to crouch in and grasp his phone. There, illuminated by candlelight, he sought solace in scrolling through photos and videos of his now two-year-old daughter.

The Ukrainian military reports an escalation in Russia's use of riot-control chemical agents to clear trenches along the front line. According to the U.S. State Department, Russia has deployed chloropicrin, a choking agent, against Ukrainian troops, a clear violation of the international ban on chemical weapons. Dismissing these allegations, the Russian Foreign Ministry asserted this month that they were baseless.



With the arrival of spring, there's no blossoming to behold; all Viktor sees are the haunting silhouettes of charred tree trunks dotting the horizon.

His weariness is tangible, the culmination of months spent steadfastly defending against an adversary equipped with seemingly boundless resources and manpower. Death and injury loom incessantly, each day serving as a stark reminder of the lopsided nature of the conflict.

In a declassified U.S. intelligence report from December, it was assessed that Russia had suffered significant losses, with up to 90% of its personnel from the start of the 2022 invasion either killed or injured, totaling 315,000 casualties. Despite these staggering losses, Russia maintains an estimated force of nearly 500,000 servicemen in Ukraine, according to Ukraine's military intelligence agency, and has continued to bolster its ranks by recruiting heavily from prisons and the general populace. Ukrainian officials warn of Russia's intentions to add another 300,000 soldiers in preparation for a summer offensive.

Despite these developments, Russia's new defense minister stated this month that there are no plans for a mass mobilization of troops. Russian officials also dispute Western estimates of their losses, asserting that they are inaccurate.

Zelenskyy recently approved a long-debated mobilization law aimed at strengthening Ukraine’s armed forces, currently comprising approximately 800,000 personnel. Passed in April, the law reduces the draft age from 27 to 25. However, the government has not disclosed the anticipated increase in conscripts or the timeframe for their deployment to bolster the troops already stationed on the front lines.

Viktor, re
flecting on the realities of war, remarks, “It's not just lines and arrows on a map. I witness the fate of my friends, the grim reality of what we're facing. It's a living nightmare, far beyond any depiction of hell.




'Death can come at any moment'

By February, the relentless Russian attacks, chronic sleep deprivation, and pervasive fear took their toll on Viktor. One morning, he awoke gripped by overwhelming terror, rendered incapable of mustering the strength to proceed to his designated post.

“I couldn't shake off the fear,” he recounts. “It wasn't merely a matter of reluctance; I was utterly incapable of moving forward. Both physically and mentally drained, I reached my breaking point.

Viktor found himself gripped by anxiety, plagued by a barrage of "what ifs." What if he faltered in his duties? What if his weapon malfunctioned? What if he failed his comrades, whom he regarded as his "brothers" and cherished as his second family?

Opening up to his company commander about his fears, despite the acute shortage of frontline soldiers, proved pivotal. Granted a brief respite, Viktor received the opportunity to engage with a psychologist, a reprieve that proved transformative, reframing his perspective on the specter of death.

Reflecting on his past, Viktor recalls viewing death as a distant prospect. "But in war, vulnerability is constant," he acknowledges. "Death looms ever-present. I'm gradually coming to terms with its inevitability... that it may arrive at any moment, beyond our control."

Recalling his conversation with the psychologist, Viktor shares, "They explained that those with faith recognize death as the departure of the spirit from the body, leaving behind a mere shell on earth.


Viktor's beliefs become less distinct when pondering the afterlife, but one conviction remains unwavering: there is no redemption awaiting the Russian soldiers who invaded Ukraine.

"I believe they're engulfed in torment," he states firmly.

Viktor's gaze jerks upward at the sound of incoming artillery, prompting him to instinctively seek cover.

"Take cover!" he shouts, his voice drowned out by the deafening blast as he presses himself against the earthen floor of the trench. Another whistle, closer this time, followed by the jarring impact of metal meeting soil. The trench walls tremble with the force. Then, silence envelops the surroundings for a while.

Later, a weary Ukrainian soldier's voice crackles over the radio, pleading for assistance. Positioned a few hundred meters from Viktor's trench, their location has been struck by what seems to be Russian suicide drones, laden with explosives.

"One 200, three 300s," the soldier reports in military code, indicating one casualty and three wounded.

"What are my orders?" he asks, his breath slightly labored. The soldier is instructed to maintain their position and refrain from traversing the minefield.

"Roger that," he replies wearily, acknowledging the command.

Minutes pass, and the soldier's voice returns over the radio.

"What are my orders?" he asks again, his breath ragged.

"He's disoriented," Viktor observes, noting the soldier's confusion and slurred speech, suggestive of possible head trauma.

He sinks into a weary slouch against the white sandbags lining the trench walls, removing his helmet. "They won't attempt a rescue until nightfall," he murmurs.

Over the radio, the wounded soldiers are informed that they must wait until darkness falls – a wait of over eight hours – for a medevac team to reach them. Once evacuated, they would be taken to a stabilization point, a medical facility near the front line where urgent medical care is administered. Simultaneously, another group of soldiers will be dispatched to reinforce their position.

"Stay put," the commander orders the soldier over the radio, advising him to hydrate and remain vigilant.

The distant echoes of explosions from the injured men's location punctuate the tense atmosphere. "They're trying to wipe them out," Viktor remarks grimly, as the radio crackles once more with the soldier's voice. More Russian drones swoop in, releasing payloads over their position.

Viktor takes another drag of his cigarette, his thoughts consumed by the faces of the countless injured and fallen comrades he's witnessed. Recalling a spirited young soldier he shared a trench with last autumn, he recounts his tragic demise during a fierce mortar assault while Viktor was on brief respite from duty.

When pressed for the young soldier's name, Viktor hesitates, his eyes shutting tightly. "I can't recall," he admits after a moment. "I can't even remember where he hailed from."

Above all, Viktor longs to return home, but he acknowledges the slim likelihood of being relieved from his frontline post anytime soon. Despite the April mobilization law's passage, which lacked provisions for rotating out soldiers who had served 36 months of duty, the Ukrainian defense ministry is contemplating a new law addressing demobilization.

Despite the mobilization efforts, many young Ukrainian men are reluctant to serve in arduous frontline positions like Viktor's, according to soldiers and officers in his brigade.

"No one volunteers to trade places with us," Viktor laments. "Who would willingly come here?"

Thus, he remains steadfast at his Browning, ever vigilant and attentive. As the radio continues to crackle with the injured soldiers' wait for nightfall, Viktor gazes up at the mid-afternoon sky. A deeper buzzing sound heralds the approach of a larger drone carrying a heavier payload. The sound draws nearer before hovering above the trench.

Straining against the wind, Viktor listens intently. The buzzing gradually recedes, drifting toward the Russian position.

"Ours," he declares quietly.

Drones dominate the war


The utilization of drones in warfare isn't new, but their significance has surged dramatically in the conflict in Ukraine. Both Russian and Ukrainian forces are engaged in a frenzied race to develop and deploy a range of unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) capable of executing precision strikes, capable of decimating everything from trenches to multi-million-dollar tanks.

Initially, Ukrainian soldiers and commanders believed that aerial vehicles provided them with a tactical advantage over Russia. However, they now concede that Moscow's capacity to produce such UAVs has far outstripped their own, particularly in the case of lower-cost first-person view drones (FPVs), which can be outfitted with explosives and used for targeted crashes.

Among the most formidable weapons in this conflict are FPV drones.

The proliferation of drones has rendered movement on the battlefield nearly impossible for both Ukrainian and Russian troops, as they risk being detected from above. These drones, equipped with explosives, can be remotely guided to targets kilometers away and can be produced for as little as $500. Russia, mirroring Ukraine's tactics, aggressively targets soldiers' positions and equipment with first-person view (FPV) drones. Medical personnel operating in the Donbas region now report that the majority of battlefield injuries they treat stem from such drones.

There are no precise estimates regarding Russia's monthly production of FPV drones. Ukraine aims to manufacture one million FPVs this year, but soldiers and commanders in drone units assert that this number must be doubled or tripled to match the pace of Russian troop advancements.

To expedite the supply of drones to Ukrainian brigades, former jewelers and mechanics assemble FPV components in a village house near the front line, enabling swift deployment. Brigades also salvage downed Russian drones, dismantling them for examination by army engineers in a bid to keep pace with Russian technological advancements.

Roman, a 38-year-old drone platoon commander, reflects on the moral ambiguity of combat, likening the experience to a surreal video game devoid of satisfaction. He ponders the futility of seeking vengeance for fallen comrades, recognizing that no amount of enemy casualties will bring them back.

While Roman has no intention of demobilizing and leaving his comrades behind, he acknowledges the urgent need for rest among fighters. Many of Ukraine's most dedicated volunteers from 2022 are now dead, injured, or exhausted. Roman stresses that merely drafting replacements is insufficient; recruits must undergo proper preparation and training.

"You can't subject the same individuals to constant frontline duty," he asserts.

However, for Ukrainians like Roman, the decision to continue fighting isn't a matter of choice; it's a question of survival for their people and their nation. He firmly believes that if Russia triumphs in Ukraine, no one in Europe will be safe.

"We're defending Europe and the world from the frontline," Roman emphasizes. He warns that Putin's aggression will not stop at Ukraine's borders, posing a threat to neighboring countries if left unchecked.

"For Europe and the entire world, we're the first line of defense," Roman declares. "If you allow Putin to succeed here, he won't halt his ambitions.

'It's endless'

North of Roman's command center, artillery units defending Ukraine's eastern front anxiously await fresh deliveries of ammunition. The scarcity of artillery shells has emerged as a critical obstacle in Ukraine's efforts to thwart Russian advances. Russia's latest offensive near Kharkiv in northeastern Ukraine is expected to exacerbate the strain along the eastern front, where artillery units have been carefully selecting targets and rationing shells. President Zelenskyy revealed in an April interview that Russia's shell output outnumbered Ukraine's by a ratio of 10 to one.

Among Russia's objectives is Kupiansk, a northeastern city in the Kharkiv region that fell to Russian forces in early 2022 but was later reclaimed by Ukrainian troops. Currently, Russian forces are positioned approximately 10 kilometers away. Oleksii, a 27-year-old soldier serving in an artillery unit within the 57th Motorized Brigade, prepares to return to his post in the city after a brief respite in a nearby village.

Oleksii volunteered to defend Ukraine five years ago following Russia's annexation of Crimea. Since then, his hometown in the Zaporizhzhia region has been reduced to rubble. While Oleksii and his fellow soldiers remain steadfast in their resolve, their primary concern is the severe shortage of shells.

"When you have enough shells, you understand you're effectively engaging the enemy," Oleksii remarks. In 2022, an artillery installation could unleash 40 to 100 shells daily. Presently, they are limited to firing two or three shells a day, with perhaps a dozen during busier periods.

In February, President Zelenskyy disclosed that Ukraine had received only 30% of the one million shells promised by the European Union by March. The European Commission declined to comment on the status of the shell deliveries.

Upon Oleksii's arrival at the brigade's artillery position, a spring storm descends, with rain pelting down and thunder echoing overhead. The imposing 2S1 Gvozdika, a self-propelled howitzer, remains concealed under a camouflage of branches and khaki netting, while soldiers seek refuge in a nearby dugout.

As they sip tea, one soldier laments how the prolonged shell shortages have left Ukrainian forces dangerously exposed on the front lines. Without ample shells, artillery units like theirs are unable to provide crucial support to infantry units.

"If the Americans had acted sooner, the Russians wouldn't have advanced so close to Chasiv Yar," remarks Yurii, the 53-year-old commander. "We wouldn't have lost so many villages or needed to fight to reclaim them."

Yurii notes that Russia possesses numerous factories capable of producing weapons and ammunition, whereas Ukraine relies heavily on assistance from Europe and the U.S.

"Russians can unleash their artillery like a machine gun," he adds. "It seems never-ending."

As the wind howls outside, the soldiers engage in spirited debate about the upcoming U.S. election and its potential implications for the war.

"But he won't win!" one soldier interjects.

"Even if he did, he'll still need to support Ukraine," another asserts. "As president, he can't ignore the will of his people."

According to Trump campaign spokesman Steven Cheung, negotiating an end to the war would be "a top priority" for the former president in a potential second term, emphasizing the need for European nations to shoulder "more of the cost of the conflict."

Yurii laments that despite the atrocities witnessed over the past two years of war, there are still many individuals in Europe and the U.S. who fail to grasp the full extent of Putin and the Russian military's capabilities.

The harrowing scenes of civilian massacres in Bucha following its occupation, the devastated cities of Mariupol and Bakhmut, the tens of thousands of lives lost, the haunting images of fallen Ukrainian soldiers circulated on social media platforms, the ceaseless funeral processions for fathers and brothers, and the heart-wrenching videos of children draped over coffins—all these horrors, Yurii reflects, are incomprehensible merely through photographs.

A somber silence descends as the men sit shoulder to shoulder on narrow military cots, quietly sipping from their cups. Suddenly, the radio crackles to life with an urgent command. The soldiers spring into action, darting out of their dugout and readying themselves to engage.