Ukrainians’ hopes and concerns as Trump’s presidency approaches

Anastasiia Fedchenko, 36, wails in anguish – her agony echoes around the gilded walls of St Michael’s Cathedral in Kyiv.

She sits with her hands resting on either side of her stomach. She is heavily pregnant with her first child, a girl. Her husband Andriy Kusmenko is only a few centimeters away, in uniform – in an open coffin.

A marine commander was killed in action in eastern Ukraine on January 4 this year. He is now and forever 33 years old. While Andrij was fighting in the war, Anastasiia wrote about it as a journalist.

His brothers in arms passed by, placing red roses in his coffin. As the funeral draws to a close, Anastasiia leans forward and kisses “the love of her life” one last time.

Outside the cathedral, she pays tribute to her “most handsome husband” who died for his country.

“I’m sorry that my daughter will never see her father,” she tells the BBC, “but she will know that he was a soldier, an officer and that he did everything he could to make Ukraine exist for her and for other generations. ”

“This war will last as long as Russia. I am really afraid that our children will inherit it from us and will have to go and fight.”

Not according to Donald Trump, who famously declared that he could end the war in a day, and who returns to the White House next week. He is already in favor of peace talks between Ukraine and Russia.

This would dishonor the dead, according to Sergeant Dmitr, call sign “Smile”, who fought alongside Andrij and came to the cathedral to mourn him.

“Let the people in power decide, but I don’t think those who fell would want them (the Ukrainian leadership) sitting at the table,” he says.

“After the funeral, we will return to work. We will fight for every Ukrainian who fell.”

Many here believe – like Anastasia and Dmitri – that too many Ukrainians have been killed to try to make a deal with Russia. But public opinion is shifting, and others believe there is too much death and destruction for no deal to be reached.

As Ukraine struggles through its third winter of war, one word is rarely spoken here – “victory”.

In the early days of a full-scale Russian invasion in February 2022, we heard it everywhere. It was the cry of a nation suddenly faced with columns of enemy tanks. But the past is truly a foreign country – and one with multiple territories.

Moscow now controls nearly a fifth of its neighbor (including the Crimean peninsula, captured in 2014) and says any peace talks must take this into account.

Ukraine 2025 is a place of cold, hard reality – where cities are emptying, cemeteries are filling up, and many soldiers are leaving their posts.

Six hours’ drive from the capital, in the heart of Ukraine, there is a young soldier on the dock.

Serhiy Hnezdilov, a burly 24-year-old, is locked in a glass partition in a crowded courtroom in the city of Dnipro. He is on trial for desertion and is one of many.

As of 2022, about 100,000 cases have been opened against soldiers who deserted their units, according to the Office of the Prosecutor General of Ukraine.

When Hnezdilov left without leave, he went public with demands for a clear time frame for the end of military service. He says he is ready to fight, but not without a demobilization plan. He had already served five years, including two before a full-scale Russian invasion.

“We have to keep fighting,” he told me during a break in the discussion, “we have no other choice.”

“But soldiers are not slaves. Anyone who has spent three or more years on the front deserves the right to rest. The authorities have been promising for a very long time to set the terms of service, but they have not done so.”

In court, he also complained about corruption among commanders and deadly incompetence.

After a short procedural hearing, he was handcuffed to return to prison. If he is found guilty, he faces up to 12 years in prison. “Help Ukraine,” he told us as he was being led away.

Many other Ukrainian soldiers are still straining at the front lines, trying to at least slow down the Russian advance.

Mykhailo, 42, a chain-smoking commander of an unmanned aerial vehicle unit, fights every night fueled by “Non-Stop” – a Ukrainian energy drink.

He is with the 68th “Jaeger” brigade, fighting to hold the city of Pokrovsk on the eastern front line – a key traffic hub. The Russians are approaching from two sides.

Mihajlo drives us to the Ukrainian position – a journey that we can only risk when it gets dark, and that in an armored car. And the Russians have their eyes in the sky. Their drones are a constant threat. He is awake and tired.

“In the first days, I went to register,” he tells us, “and I hoped that everything would go quickly.” Honestly, I’m tired. Freedom is rare (with him a total of 40 days in three years). The only thing that saves me is that I can video chat with my family.”

We arrive at an abandoned house where Mykhailo and his men are unloading their equipment and setting up a position for the pop-up drone. Screens are brought in and cables are connected.

Outside, troops raise an antenna taller than a two-story building. They work quickly under torchlight – using red rays rather than white because they’re harder to detect. They then assemble the bombs to arm their “vampire” – a large attack craft.

For the next few hours, we have front-row seats as Mykhailo – call sign “Administrator” – flies the drone, his eyes darting from screen to screen. It first delivers supplies to Ukrainian troops on the front line, then drops an anti-tank mine on Russian forces underground. It falls a little short of the mark.

It stands up to strong winds and Russian interference. All the while he keeps an eye out for incoming enemy drones.

Mihajlo discovers a Russian fighter plane in the sky. A few minutes later we hear the clear impact of three Russian glide bombs. – It is far – he tells us. It turns out that this means two to three kilometers.

During a lull, I ask Mykhail if he thinks a peace deal is possible. “Maybe not,” he says. “This (Putin) is a completely unstable person, and very gently.”

“I hope that at some point the enemy will stop because they are tired or someone with common sense will come to power.”

He will not comment on President Trump.

While Mihajlo is a veteran of this war, one of his men is a novice. Twenty-four-year-old David joined last September when the Russians closed in on his hometown. Now he spends his time handling explosives – although he would rather be at university studying languages.

“Nobody knows how long the war will last,” he says, “maybe not even the politicians.”

“I would like it to end as soon as possible so that civilians don’t suffer, so that people don’t die anymore. But considering how things are now on the front line, it won’t be soon.”

He believes that if the guns are silenced, it will only be a pause before Moscow comes back for more.

The winds pick up and the vampire craft crashes. It is not in action for now. The unit packs up and leaves, just as quickly as it came. They will return to action at dusk, continuing their duels in the sky.

But on the ground, the Russians continue to claw their way forward, and a Trump presidency will mean pressure to reach a deal. And there is another hard truth: if it comes, it is unlikely to be on Ukraine’s terms.

Additional reporting by Wietska Burema, Goktay Koraltan, Anastasiia Levchenko, and Volodymyr Lozhko.