Life on the frontline in Druzhkivka as Russian forces push closer

Charred vehicles line empty roads littered with the debris of destroyed buildings, while the thud of artillery fire gives way to the sharp, high-pitched hum of an attack drone.

This is today's reality in the eastern Ukrainian town of Druzhkivka, where a remnant of civilians live alongside troops fighting Russian forces who are now only 15 km (nine miles) away and steadily edging closer.

Widespread ruin of this nature is mirrored along the entire 1,200-km (746-mile) front line across the east and south. As Russian forces push ahead, apartment blocks, local markets and shops are flattened, rendering whole communities virtually uninhabitable.

"I can't sleep," said Iryna Litovchenko, one of a handful of civilians who have stayed. "Some guys took us in - strangers," added the 56-year-old, walking through broken glass and debris beside badly damaged buildings.

"My home is gone, as if it never existed. There were so many good things, so much of everything. In one fell swoop – boom — it's as if nothing's left."

Druzhkivka lies on the road linking strategic towns and cities known as the "fortress belt", a string of urban settlements that Russia is desperate to breach as it tries to seize the whole of Ukraine's eastern Donbas region.

That remains one of Russian President Vladimir Putin's primary objectives in the war, but well over four years after he launched a full-scale invasion, his forces are struggling to break through Ukraine's defences.

Litovchenko does not flinch at the loud blast from a nearby howitzer. But when she hears the soft buzz of a drone above, she stops before taking shelter under the branches of a tree.

Thousands of Russian and Ukrainian unmanned aerial vehicles, most steered remotely by pilots, fill the skies close to the front, hunting their prey with deadly efficiency.

In Druzhkivka, and all along the fortress belt, many roads are covered with netting to protect anyone travelling on them from drones. An unmanned ground vehicle, used to supply frontline Ukrainian positions and evacuate wounded soldiers, whizzes towards its next mission.

Zoya, a 63-year-old selling basic food items outside a charred market stall, does not want to leave her home town, despite the dangers.

"I know a bomb could come flying in and I'll die. I understand that perfectly well."

"It's heartbreaking," she added, pointing to the destruction around her. "It makes me want to cry. I was born here, I grew up here. I just don't know. Our city is gone."