I still dream of Bakhmut. I'm back in the city centre, embedded with the Ukrainian special forces. Shells are falling all around me; they roar like rolling thunder and explode into a chaos of smoke and jagged metal. Buildings crumble into the earth.
My friend, a commando who goes by the callsign 'Strangeman', is shouting to me amid the carnage, but I can't hear him. Then another shell falls, and everything disappears.
Bakhmut is both a dream and a nightmare. It is a fantasy. This eastern city, just 55 miles from Russian-occupied Donetsk, has no real strategic value, but Vladimir 's forces have been trying to conquer it since July of last year, killing tens of thousands in the process.
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