Hours into the ceasefire Russia had called for, we drove into the Donetsk region of eastern Ukraine to see what, if any, impact it was having.

The Ukrainian military escorted us to an artillery position, south-west of the fiercely contested city of Pokrovsk.

Overcast skies made the drive through mud tracks running past wide open fields slightly less vulnerable to attacks from drones.

Russian President Vladimir Putin had proposed a three-day ceasefire starting at midnight local time on 8 May, to coincide with the anniversary of the end of World War Two in Europe – a public holiday in Russia on Friday known as Victory Day.

But from the artillery position we heard the sounds of continuous explosions – incoming and outgoing mortar fire – evidence that there was no ceasefire in the trenches and on the frontlines.

I asked Serhii, one of the soldiers of the 3rd Operational Brigade of the National Guard if there had been any attacks from Russia overnight.

“Yes, they have been attacking overnight. We have had glide bombs and drones here. Russia can’t be trusted. In the evening they call a truce and in the morning they attack. There is no truce. We are always prepared for anything,” he said.

Some minutes later, he was sent the co-ordinates of a target over the radio. A few soldiers ran through deep muddy trenches, to a clearing where a howitzer was hidden from sight, covered by branches and leaves. They uncovered it, pointed it in the right direction and fired. It let out a deafening sound, and the recoil blew up leaves and dust from the ground.

Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky had rejected Russia’s unilateral three-day ceasefire. Instead, he has called for a longer 30-day truce, as proposed by the US, a proposal that has once again been reiterated by its President Donald Trump on his Truth Social platform on Thursday night.

Trump has even threatened that Washington and its partners would impose further sanctions if the ceasefire is not respected.

As the war of attrition grinds on, each side trying to wear the other down, I asked, Max, a 26-year-old soldier how he felt about global diplomatic efforts pushing for a ceasefire.

“You don’t think about things like that when you are here. You have to have ‘tunnel vision’. You can’t let emotions dictate your actions. You wait for a command and act, and if there is no command you find a way to spend your time. But you don’t let thoughts like this enter your mind,” he said.

We drive north from the artillery position, to the city of Dobropillya, which is roughly 12 miles (19km) from Russian positions. Thousands of people still live in the city, among them are many of those who’ve been forced to move here because their home towns have become too dangerous to live in.

We meet Svitlana who is from Pokrovsk but has now relocated to Dobropillya. I asked her if she thought Russia’s ceasefire call had made any difference on the ground. “You can hear the sounds here,” she said, referring to the continuous sounds of explosion, like rolling thunder, that we could hear from the outskirts of the city. “That is the sound of Russia’s ceasefire. That’s why I say we should never trust them.”

Twenty-six-year-old Serhiy chimes in: “The ceasefire is announced just to confuse people and deceive them, and so they (Russia) can say to the world ‘we are so good, we are trying to get Ukraine through peaceful means’ but in reality, everything they do is the opposite of it.”

In Dobropillya’s main market, we meet 65-year-old Oleksandr. “It was quieter last night. Before that we used to hear Shahed drones flying regularly,” he said. “But now we are hearing alarms again, and I’m not sure I can see any truce.”

As he talks, his face crumples into a sob. “I’m afraid. I have my wife and son here. I’m very scared for my family. I’m scared we might be forced to flee our homes,” he said, breaking down.

Additional reporting by Imogen Anderson, Volodymyr Lozhko, Sanjay Ganguly and Anastasiia Levchenko.