The white armoured police van speeds into the eastern Ukrainian town of Bilozerske, a steel cage mounted across its body to protect it from Russian drones.
They'd already lost one van, a direct hit from a drone to the front of the vehicle; the cage and powerful rooftop drone jamming equipment offer extra protection. But still, it's dangerous being here: the police, known as the White Angels, want to spend as little time in Bilozerske as possible.
The small, pretty mining town, just nine miles (14km) from the front line, is slowly being destroyed by Russia's summer offensive. The local hospital and banks have long since closed. The stucco buildings in the town square are shattered from drone attacks, and the trees along its avenues are broken and splintered. Neat rows of cottages with corrugated roofs and well-tended gardens stream past the car windows. Some are untouched, others burned-out shells.
A rough estimate is that 700 inhabitants remain in Bilozerske from a pre-war population of 16,000. But there is little evidence of them - the town already looks abandoned.
An estimated 218,000 people need evacuation from the Donetsk region, in eastern Ukraine, including 16,500 children. The area, crucial to the country’s defense, is bearing the brunt of Russia’s invasion, including daily attacks from drones and missiles. Some are unable to leave, others unwilling. Authorities will help evacuate those in front-line areas, but they can’t rehouse them once they’re out of danger. And despite the growing threat from Russian drones, there are those who would rather take their chances than leave their homes.
Ultimately, the central question remains: to stay or go, a calculation with life-or-death consequences in an increasingly hostile landscape. Civilians recount heart-wrenching choices and displays of resilience in the face of overwhelming odds, while the shadow of drones looms ominously overhead.
