Ukraine’s besieged city under the watchful eye of Winston Churchill

With a cigar in his mouth, Winston Churchill stares out at the besieged eastern Ukrainian city of Pokrovsk.

In fact, while the city is increasingly deserted, there are more than a dozen Churchills still here, scowling over the ruins in the form of statues, portraits, and photographs.

As artillery booms nearby, Oleksiy Yudin, the proud owner of the recently opened Churchill Store, looks nervously out of the window.

“To stop Putin’s little devil, we need Churchill back!” Mr Yudin cries out, before adapting a 1941 quote from the wartime prime minister: “Give us the weapons, and we will do the dirty job!”

Behind him stands a full-length portrait of Churchill in a top hat and tails, emblazoned on the side of a drinks fridge and beaming with apparent approval.

There are fewer customers than Mr Yudin, 46, would like for his cafe venture, which opened in April.

Pokrovsk is in the crosshairs of Russia’s advancing army, as it serves as a key logistics hub supporting Ukraine’s army across the Ukrainian frontline.

Of the nearly 2,000 square kilometres ceded by Kyiv in the last 12 months, more than half has been lost in the Pokrovsk direction, according to the Institute for the Study of War (ISW), a think tank.

Now, Russian troops sit just 6km away. Western intelligence officials suggest Ukraine may be forced to retreat from the city as soon as December.

Tens of thousands of residents have left, with evacuations running by bus because the train station is closed.

Dragons teeth - sharp concrete blocks designed to block tanks - now line the city streets. The main bridges have been destroyed by a remorseless bombardment.

On Wednesday, British long-range Storm Shadow missiles hit Russian territory for the first time, following in the wake of a US-supplied Atacms strike the day before.

However, there have been long delays in approving the use of Western weapons against targets inside Russia, and Ukraine’s position has been steadily worsening on the front lines.

In parts of eastern Ukraine, Russian soldiers outnumber their Ukrainian counterparts six to one and Kyiv’s troops have complained of increasing shortfalls in ammunition for other Western weapons systems, such as the Himars, which fires 50 miles compared to the Atacms 190.

To Mr Yudin, Churchill represents everything the current crop of Western leaders lack.

“It’s difficult to explain, but I admire him greatly. He was an intelligent, courageous person with a justice-seeking ideal. Nato and its leaders, on the contrary, are weak and abandoned us,” he says.

First, they negotiated the deal for Ukraine to give up its nuclear weapons in 1994, he adds, then “they let Russia invade us” – breaking the Budapest agreement’s pledge to defend Ukraine’s “territorial integrity”.

Churchill had warned his fellow leaders not to trust the Soviets. While respecting the Red Army’s efforts in helping to secure the defeat of the Nazis, he cautioned that Stalin’s desire for territorial expansion - a trait shared by the Kremlin’s current inhabitant - could well destabilise Europe.

In many ways, Mr Yudin shows the same indomitable spirit as the former British prime minister he so admires having faced setbacks that would break other men.

In 2023, his home in Avdiivka was destroyed as Russia moved in to capture the city. A beach bar he owned in the artificial lake dubbed the “Donetsk Maldives” was destroyed in shelling, as were some garages and shops he owned.

Fleeing Avdiivka, he made the journey just 60km west to Pokrovsk, while others travelled far further away to escape the Russian onslaught.

“Anything can happen, but I trust in God’s providence. The Churchill Store began construction when Avdiivka was still under Ukrainian control and we never thought the Russians could get here,” Mr Yudin admits.

For those residents who remain, the shop offers a chance to chat over coffee and pep up their spirits under the watchful eye of Churchill.

Now Mr Yudin also procures supplies for the army and delivers aid to front line villages.

In Pokrovsk, curfew starts at 3pm and pensioners can get free food and water at “invincibility centres”.

“Where am I supposed to go? I’ve got nowhere else to live,” says Viktor, 76, with two six-litre jugs in his hands.

Only 11,000 citizens remain in Pokrovsk, down from 70,000, and many of them will hold out until the last possible moment before they must evacuate to save their lives.

For now, Mr Yudin, like his hero, stands fast. “I trust our military and the weather,” he says.

“Winter days are shorter, and the drones fly less because the cold reduces the battery life. The Russians’ path is getting muddy, from the way up to here, it’s all fields. It won’t be easy for them.”

He has enough money and friends to start over in any Ukrainian city. His daughter and son are far from the front and he could move his parents and join them. But he doesn’t want to leave his home region and his neighbours.

Often Mr Yudin’s mind turns to the synagogue he plans to build in the backyard of the Churchill Store.

“I just want to be as close to home as possible. I’m a patriot at heart,” says the Ukrainian Jew.

For the Russians, though, there will be no forgiveness. “We will hunt down Russians just as Mossad did with Nazis and make them pay,” he promises, for when the war is over.

Mr Churchill would have likely met that sentiment with a grunt of approval.