The appearance of the Oskil river dam delivers a gray, apocalyptic scene, as if a thick fog settled over the landscape. The hydroelectric complex was blown apart, severed in two. The locks toppled into the water, and the currents now rush beneath the massive concrete and twisted metal that once linked the two banks. Until Russia withdrew at the end of last summer, the area bore the marks of skirmishes. Some zones show a wider river contact, while others remain under Russian control with Ukrainian forces nearby, and fighting persists in pockets along the river.
Crossing rivers presents a tactical hurdle in Ukraine, a challenge for both sides in their offensive and counteroffensive operations. When bridges fail and waterways swell, mechanized columns and armored units face real danger. The scorched banks around Oskil bear witness to this. The dam’s destruction followed the Russian withdrawal, nearby forests burned, and the shores marked with mines. A small red billboard with a white skull serves as a stark warning.
Fisherman Oleg Borisovich climbs the rubble, dodges craters, and surveys one of the highest points still standing on the dam. He recalls a time when, as a geologist, he knew every corner of these waters where cranes, carp, and sea bream thrived. He proudly recalls catching a 50-pound fish before the conflict and continues to visit the area, greeting another fisherman in a bright yellow raincoat. Today the fishing scene has its own rough charm.
restrain the Russians
With the dam out of service, water levels rise, fish appear where none were seen before, and those who live off the river ride out hard times without relying on canned goods. Yet Borisovich worries. He has watched these rivers since childhood and laments the changes—first a climate crisis, now a war that reshapes everything. He notes that the dam sits above Oskil and is part of a system linked to Donetsk supply lines. From a military standpoint, the river has become a barrier for both sides.
About 15 kilometers away, Maxim Strelmilov, a regional administration official from Izium, recently recaptured by Ukrainian forces, explains how the Donets River through the city slowed the Russian advance in the early months of the conflict. A pontoon bridge built by Ukraine during their counteroffensive now lies abandoned and submerged in the cold water.
Donets divides Izium into northern and southern parts. The Russians managed to seize the northern portion on March 7, but the rest took longer as crossing the river proved difficult. “Nature helped us,” Strelmilov adds. He describes the Donets as one of Ukraine’s largest rivers, with a broad channel and depths reaching several meters. The area they stand on used to be a popular city beach for locals and visitors; today the water is still visible, and the depth here measures about 1.5 meters.
Southern Bug and Dnieper
Strelmilov notes that Russian forces finally secured the city after a protracted period. Some collaborators guided Russian troops to another crossing point, allowing them to take Izium on April 1, although this delay prevented a complete encirclement of Ukrainian troops in the Donbas region. When Izium fell, Ukrainian forces had already prepared a defensive line toward Sloviansk and prevented rapid encirclement.
Donets and Oskil remain central to strategic discussions about Ukraine’s war, highlighting the difficulty of crossing rivers safely without alerting the enemy. The southern route around the Dnieper River near Kherson remains a focal point for recent retake efforts, establishing a broad border in the conflict.
A February public report from the UK Ministry of Defense noted ongoing clashes along the Danube-like delta network and the Dnieper’s expanding archipelago. Russia withdrew from the west bank in November 2022, using small boats to maintain a presence on key islands, while Ukraine has deployed long-range artillery to neutralize those outposts. These activities demonstrate continued attempts to control access to this strategic river system and deter further attacks.