Satellite imagery and ground reports from the Donbas region confirm a significant build-up of Russian armoured divisions near the city of Avdiivka, threatening to envelop Ukrainian defensive positions. The escalation, described by NATO analysts as the most concentrated since the fall of Bakhmut, comes as Britain reaffirms its commitment to Ukraine with a new package of air defence systems and long-range munitions.
Temperatures in the conflict zone remain below freezing, complicating logistical operations for both sides. Yet the physical laws of warfare are immutable: massed armour requires fuel and ammunition, and satellite thermal imaging shows supply depots being established within 30 kilometres of the front line. This is not a feint. The terrain, composed of open steppe and industrial ruins, favours the attacker if they can achieve local numerical superiority.
The Kremlin has likely calculated that a decisive victory before the spring thaw could shift diplomatic momentum. But the energy cost of such an operation is staggering. Each battalion tactical group moving into position consumes thousands of litres of diesel per day, a resource Russia can ill afford to waste given ongoing international sanctions on refined petroleum products. There is a thermodynamic irony here: the same fossil fuels that warm the planet are now being burned to destroy a city.
Britain's response has been characteristically measured yet firm. The new package, valued at £250 million, includes precision-guided munitions that can strike command centres without excessive collateral damage. More critically, it includes counter-battery radars that can detect artillery positions in seconds, allowing Ukrainian crews to return fire before the Russian guns can relocate. This is a numbers game: radar shortens the kill chain, and a shorter kill chain reduces ammunition expenditure.
The broader context is grim. Ukraine's electricity grid has been degraded by sustained missile attacks, with rolling blackouts affecting critical infrastructure. Hospitals in Kharkiv are operating on generators, and the constant drone of diesel engines masks the sound of incoming artillery. The human cost is not abstract. Each kilowatt-hour of electricity denied to civilians represents a small victory for a strategy of attrition. But the laws of physics do not discriminate: a generator running on diesel produces carbon dioxide regardless of which flag flies above it.
What happens next depends on ammunition stocks. Ukraine's artillery fire rate has dropped due to dwindling supplies, while Russia continues to receive shells from North Korea and Iran. The numbers are sobering: Russia fires approximately 10,000 shells per day, Ukraine around 2,000. At this rate, the defensive line will crack unless Western production ramps up. The United States has committed to producing 100,000 shells per month by 2025, but physics imposes a time delay: industrial capacity cannot be summoned instantly.
The planet warms as we watch. Every shell fired, every tank that rolls, every generator that runs adds to the atmospheric carbon burden. The conflict in Ukraine is not separate from the climate crisis it is a symptom of the same fossil fuel dependency that drives global warming. Russia's invasion is financed by oil and gas revenues. The equipment that kills and maims is forged from steel melted with coal. The smoke from burning fuel hangs over the battlefield like a dark omen.
For now, the focus must remain on the immediate threat to Avdiivka. Ukrainian defenders are outnumbered and outgunned but not outmanoeuvred. They have learned to use the terrain, to dig deep bunkers, to conserve ammunition. They know that this war, like the climate crisis, will be won by those who adapt fastest to changing physical realities. The coming days will test whether adaptation is enough.