Battle for Bakhmut: Gradual Advancement of Russian Troops
Hang close to the wall, scoot. File. Just a few here and there. These instructions come from the Ukrainian army buddy leading us to an army outpost in war-torn Bakhmut, a city famed for its champagnes once upon a time.
Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelensky has branded the eastern city "our bastion". The Russians have been battering it for six months, attempting to capture Bakhmut. Now, they've ramped up their assault—according to the Ukrainians—to wreck it before the anniversary of the invasion.
We follow orders, darting down an icy debris-strewn road, a blue sky overhead giving drones an ideal target. After crossing the road, two Russian barricades swoop down behind us. We back up to see black smoke billowing and keep running.
Was the shelling random or aimed at us? We can't be certain, but anything moving in Bakhmut seems to be a target—soldier or civilian alike.
For hours, the shelling doesn't let up—incoming and outgoing. A Russian fighter jet growsls overhead. Russian troops are just two kilometers away in the local area.
There's street fighting in some areas, but Ukrainian forces still control the city, no matter the freezing temperatures and dwindling ammo supply.
"We face some ammo shortages of all kinds, particularly artillery rounds," says Capt Mykhailo from the 93rd Mechanised Brigade, his call sign 'Polyglot'. "We also need encrypted communication devices from our Western allies, and some armored personnel carriers to move troops around. But we persevere. One of the main lessons of this war is how to fight under limited resources."
We get a glimpse of the ammo problems as Ukrainian soldiers lob mortars at a Russian position. The first mortar round takes off with a loud bang. The second round doesn't launch.
There's a hiss of smoke and a shout of "misfire," sending the mortar team scrambling for cover. They tell us the ammo is old stock, sent from abroad.
The battle for Bakhmut is a war within a war. Some of the fiercest fighting of the invasion has taken place here. And now, the Kremlin's forces are picking up speed, meter by meter, body by body. Wave after wave of mercenaries allegedly from the notorious Wagner group has been thrown into the fray down here. Reports of piles of Russian corpses are common.
Moscow now controls both main roads leading into the city, leaving just one back path—a narrow supply line.
"They've been trying to take the city since July," says Iryna, press officer of the 93rd Brigade. "Bit by bit they're winning now. They have more resources, so if they play the long game, they will win. I can't say how long it will take."
"Perhaps they'll run out of resources," Iryna adds wistfully. "I really hope so."
We move from deeply hidden firing positions to shelters buzzing with generators and warmed by stoves. Yet soldiers take care to hide any smoke that might give away their location—part of the housekeeping of war. Among those we meet, there's a calm determination to keep fighting.
"They're trying to encircle us to force us out of the city, but it's not working," says Ihor, a green-ferned commander, his face hardened by battle. "The city is under our control. Transportation moves, despite continuous artillery strikes. Of course, we have losses on our side, but we are holding on. We only have one option—to keep pushing forward."
There's another option—withdrawal from Bakhmut before it's too late. But among the defenders, there seems little appetite for that.
"If we receive such an order from our HQ, well, orders are orders," says Captain Myhailo. "But what's the point of holding on here for months if we have to pull back from this city? No, we don't want that."
He recalls those who have given their lives for Bakhmut—"many brave men who just love this country."
If the defenders of Bakhmut were to retreat, it would open the way for Russia to advance towards bigger cities in eastern Ukraine like Kramatorsk and Slovyansk.
The Kremlin has stepped up its strikes in other front-line areas in the Donbas region in the east, as well as in the south. Ukrainian authorities say a new Russian offensive is underway.
The Kremlin is on a timer, counting down to the anniversary on February 24. "They're obsessed with dates and supposed 'victory days,'" claims Capt Mykhailo.
Yet the attritional fight for Bakhmut could wear down the Russians, according to Viktor, a tall, lean Ukrainian commander holed up in his shelter.
"They don't defend anymore, they just attack," he states, "they advance taking some meters, but we are trying to ensure they take as little of our land as possible. We are holding the enemy here and grinding them down."
Perhaps.
There's still some life in Bakhmut if you know where to find it. A blast of warmth and light greets you when you enter the "invincibility center," a former boxing club turned life-support hub where local people can charge their phones and themselves, with hot food and company. It's crowded when we visit, with senior women huddled around a stove. and two young boys boxing wildly and glued to a TV screen as if in a trance.
Around 5,000 civilian residents remain in Bakhmut without running water or electricity—many are elderly and poor. "Some of them are pro-Moscow," a Ukrainian associate mutters darkly. "They're waiting for the Russians."
All here are fighting their own battles says Tetiana, a 23-year-old psychologist keeping a watchful eye on her siblings. She's still in Bakhmut because her 86-year-old grandmother can't move and relies on her.
"Most people cope by praying to God," she says. "Faith helps. Some pretend they're not humans. Some act worse than animals."
Back outside, the fight for this battered city rages on, with the steady drumbeat of shelling as we leave.
Amidst the ongoing battles and shelling, the latest news from Bakhmut highlights the desperate need for ammunition and encrypted communication devices for Ukrainian forces. In the midst of this war-torn city, a small 'invincibility center' serves as a beacon of warmth and general news, offering food, charge for phones, and a sense of community to the remaining civilians.
