On the outskirts of Mariupol, behind layers of checkpoints and just shy of the Ukrainian front line, a town sits abandoned and destroyed.

Along the shore of the Sea of Azov, miles of anti-tank and personnel defences line the beach, barbed wire stretching far into the distance.

Destroyed homes sit empty and broken, families who once lived here left belongings behind as they fled.

Toys, shoes, cars, books litter the streets of the beach town. Buildings annihilated, concrete hangs perilously and ominously from the corners of blasted out walls and roofs.

An Orthodox church, pockmarked with the evidence of battle, stands abandoned next to a hill with every window blown out.

A school was just a shell, evidence of a thriving community frozen in time.

The port city is vulnerable from three sides – to the east, the Sea of Azov, where Russian naval ships patrol, and the land to the north and west is controlled by Russian-backed separatists.

February 7 2022 - MARIUPOL, Ukraine:
On the outskirts of Mariupol, behind layers of checkpoints and just shy of the Ukrainian front line, a town sits abandoned and destroyed.
Along the shore of the Sea of Azov, miles of anti-tank and personnel defences line the beach, barbed wire stretching far into the distance.
Destroyed homes sit empty and broken, families who once lived here left belongings behind as they fled. Toys, shoes, cars, books litter the streets of the beach town. Buildings annihilated, concrete hangs perilously and ominously from the corners of blasted out walls and roofs.
An orthodox church, pockmarked with the evidence of battle, stands abandoned next to a hill with every window blown out.
A school was just a shell, evidence of a thriving community halted, left behind memories in films and books and signs.