'It was a beautiful city'

For more than 80 days, the Russians bombarded Mariupol, determined to take the Black Sea port, even if they had to raze it to the ground first. After Russian forces finally crushed Ukrainian resistance last May, they set about putting their stamp on the city, erasing evidence of the recent atrocities and of past Ukrainian history in the city. A year on from the invasion of Ukraine, the Guardian tells the story of Mariupol perhaps the bloodiest and most shocking chapter of Russia's brutal war

- Shaun Walker, Isobel Koshiw, Pjotr Sauer, Morten Risberg, Liz Cookman and Luke Harding

It is New Year 2022, and Mariupol is in a relaxed mood. But when a strong gust of wind blows over the city’s Christmas tree, sending its vast illuminated branches crashing to the ground, a few superstitious types whisper that it could be a bad omen.

Most people, though, pay little heed to the crescendo of chatter about Vladimir Putin’s nefarious plans for Ukraine. They are used to the idea of war here, after the events of 2014 when Russian proxies seized neighbouring Donetsk and briefly controlled Mariupol, too. The front line, just outside the city, has hardly moved for years. Occasional military skirmishes are a fact of life, but a full-scale invasion seems fanciful.

So for the first seven weeks of the year, life goes on more or less as normal. People huddle in cafes smoking shisha on cold evenings; teenagers giggle as they slip on the ice rink behind the theatre. A few people do become uneasy and clean out their basements, equipping them as bomb shelters and stocking up on tinned food. Often, their friends tease them for such eccentric behaviour.

And then, in the early hours of 24 February, it begins. Around 5am, calls go out to the chiefs of police and other municipal services, announcing that military hostilities have begun and ordering them into their offices. Most are already awake, roused by the sound of Russian artillery.