Four years after the Kremlin launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the strain is no longer distant — it is etched into daily life.

In Yelets, a town 350km south of Moscow, golden church domes shimmer above a frozen river where ice fishermen sit patiently. It looks like a Russian fairy tale. But the illusion fades fast.

On the embankment stands an army recruitment billboard. It promises a one-off payment of £15,000 to anyone willing to sign up and fight in Ukraine. Nearby, a poster shows a Russian soldier aiming a Kalashnikov beneath the slogan: “We’re there where we need to be.”

Russia invaded Ukraine on 24 February 2022. The leadership expected a short, successful military operation. Instead, the war drags into its fifth year — longer than Nazi Germany’s war against the Soviet Union, known here as the Great Patriotic War.

In Yelets, the consequences are impossible to ignore. A towering mural covers a nine-storey apartment block, showing five local men killed fighting in Ukraine. “Glory to the heroes of Russia!” it reads.

Official casualty figures are not released. But losses are widely acknowledged to be heavy. Across towns and villages, museums, monuments and cemetery sections now honour recent war dead.

Irina, a bus station ticket collector, knows the cost personally. “My friend’s husband was killed fighting there. The son of my cousin, too. And grandson,” she says. “Lots of people have been killed. I feel sorry for these lads.”

She struggles financially. “Utility bills are suffocating us. Prices are crushing us. It’s very hard to get by.” Yet she still helps assemble aid packages for soldiers.

Irina does not openly criticise the war — but she questions it. “In the Great Patriotic War, we knew what we were fighting for. I’m not sure what we’re fighting for now.”

Though Ukraine’s border lies 250km away, Lipetsk region feels the conflict directly. Ukrainian drones have targeted the area. Concrete emergency shelters now stand at bus stops and in parks. Sirens sound almost nightly.

“We just go into the corridor where there are no windows,” Irina explains.

War symbols are everywhere. A pancake café displays the letters V and Z — symbols of the “special military operation.” The sign reads: “Grab a pancake, then the whole world.”

President Vladimir Putin has declared: “Where the foot of a Russian soldier steps, that’s ours.” Another billboard once proclaimed: “Russia’s borders do not end anywhere.”

But war costs money. With a growing budget deficit and economic stagnation, VAT has risen from 20% to 22%, with extra revenue earmarked for “defence and security.” State TV urges patience, calling it “a war forced on us by the West.”

Local businesses feel the squeeze. Bakery owner Anastasiya Bykova says rising utilities, rent and taxes — plus higher ingredient costs due to VAT — have forced price hikes. “If we close, what’s left? Just a dark grey patch,” she warns.

In nearby Lipetsk, pensioner Ivan Pavlovich fumes over a leaking pipe and broken lift. Prices keep rising, he says. “Pensions go up, but then prices go up even more. So, what do I gain? Nothing.”

Yet he backs the war. “If I was younger, I’d go and fight there. The special military operation is excellent.”

As Russia enters year five of war, daily life grows harder. Many feel powerless to change it. They hunker down. And they wait.

Key Takeaways

• Four years after invading Ukraine, Russia faces mounting casualties and economic strain.

• Rising prices, higher VAT and nightly drone alerts are reshaping daily life in towns like Yelets.

• Despite hardship and confusion, many residents publicly support the “special military operation.”

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c4gj20xzw39o

lol..propaganda...reposted as news...nothing to see here.......