“This is the most hazardous of all frontlines,” says Oleksandr. He is the head of the medical unit of the 25th Brigade of the Ukrainian Army.
We are in a cramped, makeshift field unit that is the first point of care for injured soldiers.
“The Russian Federation is pushing hard. We haven’t been able stabilise the front. “Each time the frontline moves, we move with it.”
We are near Pokrovsk. This small mining town is located about 60km (37miles) north-west of Donetsk, the regional capital.
The medics told us that they treated 50 soldiers on a single day, a number never seen before in the history of this war. The casualties are taken to this secret location for treatment after dusk when there is a lower chance of being attacked by Russian drones.
In the fierce battle to defend Pokrovsk, Ukrainian troops were injured. This was a relatively safe city – it had 60,000 residents, and its streets were lined with cafes, markets, and restaurants. Soldiers would often take a break in the city after being on the front lines.
It feels like a ghost city now. More than three quarters of the population has left.
Since Russia captured Avdiivka city in February, its advance in Donestk region is swift. It captured Vuhledar at the beginning of October.
The Ukrainian government and the soldiers we met on the ground agree that the fighting around Pokrovsk has been the most intense.
Kyiv said last week that “the Pokrovsk Direction leads the number of enemy” attacks. It claimed that the Armed Forces of Ukraine repelled 150 “enemy’ attacks on most days over the past two weeks.
Tania, an army medic, guides Serhii into a room for examination. He is six miles away from the front.
Tania says, “His condition is grave.”
Serhii suffered shrapnel wounds to his skull, brain and one of his eyeballs. The doctors cleaned up his wounds quickly and administered antibiotics.
Five more soldiers arrive shortly after. They are unsure how their injuries occurred. The barrage can be so sudden and intense that their injuries could have been caused either by drones or mortars.
“This is dangerous.” It’s difficult, both mentally and physically. We are all tired but we are coping,” Yuriy says, the commander of the brigade’s medical units.
All the soldiers we saw were injured at different hours of the day, but they only arrived after dark, when it was safer.
We are told that such delays can increase the risk for death and disability.
Taras is another soldier who has wrapped a tourniquet on his arm in order to stop the blood from a shrapnel injury. But now, more than 10 hours after, his arm looks swollen, pale, and he cannot feel it. A doctor told us that it could be amputated.
Two soldiers have died in the last 24 hours.
What we see in the field unit shows the intensity of the battle to capture Pokrovsk, an important transport hub. The rail line that runs through the town was used to transport civilians from frontline towns into safer areas of Ukraine and to move military supplies.
Ukraine understands what is at stake.
The threat of Russian drones never goes away. One hovers outside the medical unit when we are there. This makes it extremely difficult to evacuate from the front lines. The windows of the building are boarded so that drones cannot look inside. However, the moment anyone steps outside the door they are at risk.
The drones also pose a threat to those remaining residents of Pokrovsk.
Viktoriia Vasylevska (50), one of the few remaining residents, says, “We hear them constantly buzzing. They stop and look into the windows.” Even she has agreed to be evacuated, from her home on the eastern edge of the dangerous city.
She is shocked at how quickly the front line has moved towards Pokrovsk.
“It all happened very quickly.” Who knows what’s going to happen next? I’m losing it. I’m having panic attacks. “I’m afraid of nights.”
Viktoriia says that she has little money and will need to start over somewhere else. But it is too frightening to stay in this place.
“I want to see the war end.” Negotiations should take place. In any case, there is nothing left on the lands that Russia has taken. “Everything is destroyed, and the people have fled,” says she.
We find that most people have a low morale – the result of two and a quarter years of a grinding conflict.
Pokrovsk has lost power and water in most of its population.
In a school there is a line of people waiting to use the communal tap. They are carrying empty canisters. They tell us that four taps used to work, but only one now.
Pockets of destruction can be seen as you drive through the streets. However, the city has not yet been bombed like other cities that have been fiercely fought for.
Larysa (69) buys sacks of potato at one of the few food stalls that are still open in the otherwise closed-down central market.
“I’m terrified. “I can’t survive without sedatives,” says she. She doesn’t believe she could afford to rent anywhere else on her small pension. “The government could take me somewhere to shelter me for a little while. What happens next?
Raisa, a 77-year old shopper, also adds her voice. “You can’t get anywhere without money. We just sit at home and wait for this to end.
Larysa believes it’s time for Russia to negotiate – a sentiment which was unthinkable a few years ago for many in Ukraine. We found it at least near the frontline.
“So many of the boys we have are dying and so many are injured.” She says, “They’re sacrificing the lives of their loved ones and this continues.”
Nadiia, 80, is sitting on a mattress in an evacuation van and has no sympathy for Russian forces. “Damn this War! “I’m going to kill myself,” she cries. “Why does [President] Putin need more land?” Does he not have enough land? He has killed so much people.”
Nadiia is unable to walk. She used to drag her around the house with the help of neighbors. Only a few of them stayed, but the constant threat of bombing has forced her to leave, even though she does not know where she is going.
There are still some who have not left the city.
Locals are among them, working to repair infrastructure damaged by war.
“I live in one of the streets nearest to the frontline.” My house is ablaze. My neighbours were killed after their house was shelled,” Vitaliy says, as he tries to fix the electrical lines.
“But I don’t think it’s fair to abandon our men.” We must fight until we win and Russia is punished.
Roman, a 20-year-old man who we meet as he works to repair a home that has been damaged by shells, does not share his resolve.
“I don’t believe the territory for which we are fighting is worth human life.” Many of our soldiers died. Young men who would have had a wife and children, a future. But they had no choice but to go to war.”
One morning at dawn, we drove to the battlefield outside of the city. The roadside is lined with fields of dried sunflowers. We drive at breakneck speeds to protect ourselves from Russian drone attacks, as there is little cover.
As we approach the front line, we hear loud explosions.
Vadym fires an artillery gun from the Soviet era at a Ukrainian artillery post. It blows dust, leaves and a loud sound. He runs into an underground bunker to hide from Russian retaliation, and waits for the coordinates of next Ukrainian strike.
“They [Russia] are more powerful and have better weapons.” He says that they “send their men into the battlefield like cannon fodder”.
He knows that if Pokrovsk falls it could open up a gateway into the Dnipro Region – only 32km (20 miles). Their job will become more difficult.
“Yes, our men are tired, and many have died and been injured, but we must fight, or the result will be disastrous.”
Additional reporting by Imogen Anderson, Anastasiia Levchenko, Volodymyr Lozhko, Sanjay Ganguly