Russia Reels! Is Ukraine War Finally Taking Its Toll?

YELETS, Russia – The sight of golden-domed Orthodox churches shimmering in the winter light and ice fishermen huddled over holes in the frozen river initially paints a charming picture of Yelets, a town nestled about 217 miles south of Moscow. It’s a deceptive tranquility, however, a facade that quickly crumbles upon closer inspection.

Russia Reels! Is Ukraine War Finally Taking Its To...

The first jarring note is the army recruitment billboard. Promising a substantial one-time payment – the equivalent of roughly £15,000 – to anyone willing to enlist and fight in Ukraine, it’s a stark reminder of the ongoing conflict. Just a few feet away, another poster depicts a grim-faced Russian soldier aiming a Kalashnikov, the slogan "We're there where we need to be" emblazoned beneath. The message is clear, even if its context is increasingly murky.

It's been four years since the Kremlin launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022. What was initially envisioned as a swift, decisive military operation has morphed into a protracted and bloody war. This conflict has now surpassed the duration of Nazi Germany's invasion of the Soviet Union, a period Russians solemnly remember as the Great Patriotic War. The weight of that comparison, I suspect, is not lost on the Russian people.

The consequences of this "special military operation," as the government still insists on calling it, are readily apparent here in Yelets. A massive mural dominating the side of a nine-story apartment building displays the faces of five local soldiers who perished in Ukraine. "Glory to the heroes of Russia!" the inscription declares, a patriotic flourish masking the very real human cost.

While Russian authorities maintain a tight-lipped silence regarding casualty figures, it's no secret that the country has suffered significant losses on the battlefield. Evidence of this is everywhere. In towns and villages across Russia, museums and monuments dedicated to soldiers killed in Ukraine are becoming increasingly common. Local cemeteries now feature dedicated sections for these recent war dead. These are not the hallmarks of a swift, successful operation.

"My friend's husband was killed fighting there. The son of my cousin, too. And grandson," says Irina, a bus station ticket collector, her voice laced with fatigue as she stands across from the memorial mural. "Lots of people have been killed. I feel sorry for these lads." Irina is clearly struggling with the economic realities of the situation, citing crippling utility bills and ever-rising prices. Yet, despite her own financial difficulties, she still contributes to aid packages for Russian soldiers on the front lines. While not openly critical of the war, there's a definite sense of confusion about its purpose.

"In the Great Patriotic War, we knew what we were fighting for," Irina explains, her brow furrowed. "I'm not sure what we're fighting for now."

Even everyday life in Yelets is tinged with the realities of the conflict. Many apartment blocks have designated basement shelters. "The sirens go off almost every night," Irina tells me. "But I don't leave my building. We just go into the corridor where there are no windows." The normalcy of this statement is perhaps the most unsettling thing I've heard all day.

Adding a final layer of complexity, a nearby sign reads: "Grab a pancake, then the whole world." The phrase echoes sentiments expressed by Vladimir Putin, who declared in St. Petersburg last year, "Where the foot of a Russian soldier steps, that's ours." These expansionist ideas aren't new. Two years ago in Moscow, an electronic billboard displayed Putin's quote: "Russia's borders do not end anywhere." The juxtaposition of this rhetoric with the palpable grief and economic hardship in Yelets creates a deeply unsettling dissonance.