Four years of war reshape a Russian city with drones, sirens, army posters

A drone whirred through a shopping centre in the Russian city of Voronezh as a shaman of the devices that have dominated the battlefield in Ukraine.

Hiding his face behind a balaclava, Shaman told AFP he would soon leave to fight in the war, vowing “to defend my country”—which launched a large-scale offensive against its neighbour four years ago.

Located around 500 kilometres south of Moscow, Voronezh, a city of one million people, lies closer to the front line in eastern Ukraine than to the Russian capital.

From frequent Ukrainian retaliatory drone attacks to army recruitment adverts around the city, the conflict has gradually seeped into daily life.

Before heading to the front, Shaman was manning the stand of the “Berkut Military-Sports Cossack Club” in the shopping centre.

His goal was “not necessarily” to persuade fellow teenagers to enlist, he told AFP.

“Everyone chooses their own path, according to their interests,” he said, describing himself as a “patriot”.

Over the last four years, the word has become politically charged — used both to honour soldiers and, on the home front, those who vocally support President Vladimir Putin and his offensive.

I have hope

The appearance of Voronezh has changed dramatically since February 2022.

On snowy roads leading to the suburbs, anti-aircraft systems peek out from behind camouflage nets.

In the city centre, murals commemorate soldiers killed on the battlefield.

Numerous propaganda posters urge people to enlist, often crowding out adverts for local cultural events such as a production of Swan Lake.

A recruitment centre offers prospective soldiers a lump sum of 2.5 million roubles (around $32,500) for signing up — equivalent to three years of the average regional salary.

The financial incentives have allowed Russia to maintain a manpower advantage over Ukraine despite heavy losses.

Last year, 422,000 people enlisted, according to former president and Deputy Security Council Secretary Dmitry Medvedev, a six per cent decrease compared with 2024.

For Lyudmila, 64, the only concern is her son, missing in action for the past four months.

“It’s very hard. I have hope, because without hope…” she said, her eyes filling with tears and trailing off.

Was he killed? Captured? She does not know.

Frightening

Russia does not officially disclose how many of its soldiers have died.

Tracking local obituaries and family announcements, the BBC and independent outlet Mediazona have identified at least 168,000 Russian soldiers killed since the start of Moscow’s offensive.

To keep busy, Lyudmila volunteers for an organisation that sews camouflage gear for soldiers.

Even with the large financial incentive, enlistment is a firm “Nyet” for tractor driver Roman, 48, who, like many AFP interviewees, declined to give his surname.

“No, no. Not for any sum,” he said.

Huddled in a tent on the frozen river, he wants to “relax”, “switch off” and “think about fishing” — seeking respite from the threat of Ukrainian drone attacks.

“I wake up more often because of the explosions,” he said. “We have sirens and explosions every day. It’s frightening, of course.”

Moscow has been launching daily missile and drone attacks on Ukraine for months. The latest wave crippled Kyiv’s energy system, leaving hundreds of thousands without heating as temperatures dropped to -20°C.

In retaliation, Ukraine has deployed drones against Russian targets, mostly hitting port and energy infrastructure. Last month, one person in Voronezh was killed in an attack.

Peace Street

The Voronezh region, which borders Ukrainian territory occupied by Moscow, is among the “most frequently” targeted areas in aerial attacks, Tatyana Moskalkova said last month.

Amid the city’s army posters, smaller signs hint that not everyone shares the patriotic pro-war fervour.

After Russia launched its offensive, artist Mikhail (Noi) installed small ceramic plaques on buildings calling for peace.

Resembling pro-peace plaques from Soviet times bearing messages such as “Peace” or “Friendship”, they were intended to remind people of the experiences of previous generations.

“I wanted to remind people of the narrative of our grandmothers, grandfathers and great-grandparents, who throughout my childhood said that war is terrifying,” the 28-year-old, who goes by the nickname Noi, told AFP.

“What we should always strive for is peace.”

However, with anti-war activism essentially outlawed in Russia, most of his plaques have been removed — except one, located on Voronezh’s Peace Street.