Demand soars for sex toys and lingerie in front-line city where love and war mingle

Amid the lingerie and sex toys is a fearsome display of combat knives - laid on for the soldiers who make up much of the shop’s clientele. Photo / Getty Images

At the “Love” sex shop in the front-line Ukrainian city of Kramatorsk, staff pride themselves on catering to their customers’ every desire. Even so, their latest sideline is unlikely to catch on at your local Ann Summers store.

Amid the lingerie and sex toys is a fearsome display of combat knives - laid on for the soldiers who make up much of the shop’s clientele.

“We get so many troops coming in now that we started selling knives as well, because we know they like buying them,” smiles Tetyana, Love’s manageress. “Knives are like toys for men really - and men, wherever they are, always need toys.”

That Tetyana now caters for both the battlefield and the bedroom reflects how Kramatorsk, a grimy city in Ukraine’s Donbas region, is where love and war mingle.

The nearest big town to Ukraine’s eastern front lines, soldiers and their partners meet here for R&R, earning it an unlikely new status as a romantic getaway destination.

The trains in from Kyiv are packed with soldiers’ wives and girlfriends, grabbing the chance to see loved ones granted leave from the front. Sometimes it’s just for a couple of days, sometimes just a few hours. As the passionate kisses on Kramatorsk’s station platform show, that makes each encounter all the more precious - not least because each couple knows it could be their last.

Ukrainian Territorial Defence Forces members greet newly-married members of the Ukrainian Territorial Defence Forces. Photo / AP

With time always at a premium, however, the romance industry here is more Las Vegas than Paris. Courting couples keen to tie the knot can get quickie weddings at a local registry office. Lovers in a hurry can rent apartments by the hour as well as the night. Florists and jewellers who shut up shop at the war’s outset have re-opened, selling almost as much as in peacetime.

“We get lots of soldiers coming to buy flowers, sometimes in the blue and yellow of the Ukrainian flag,” said Nataliya, a Kramatorsk florist, whose shop also sells teddy bears embossed with “I Love You”. “I bought a job lot of the teddy bears back when we re-opened, and didn’t think I’d sell many, but now I’m on my third batch.”

On the wall above her counter is a montage of her customer’s lapel badges, bearing slogans of military valour. Not every warrior, she admits, behaves quite so honourably off the battlefield. “One soldier came in here buying flowers for seven different women in one day.”

At a jewellery stall in the next-door shopping arcade, cheap his-and-hers wedding rings are on sale, along with pendants of Archangel Michael, a good luck symbol. Normally, choosing a wedding ring might take hours or days. Here it’s done in minutes.

“One soldier and his fiancée bought rings here very quickly, kissed and then left,” said the jewellery stall owner. “Another couple came in with their kids and bought just a simple band ring for each other. I think they just wanted to marry for legal reasons in case the husband was killed.”

A Ukrainian Army Soldier hugs a woman. Photo / Getty Images

True, even for those content with a no-frills wedding, the local registry office may feel like slumming it somewhat. Overlooked by a bomb-scarred housing estate, it sits in a drab Soviet-era office block, where several windows are boarded up or blown out. What it very much lacks in romance though, it makes up for in convenience.

“We were planning to get married after the war, but these are dangerous times, so we’ve decided to get married now,” said Maxim Slyvna, 27, of the 32nd Separate Infantry Battalion, as he and his new wife Irina, 21, kissed outside the registry office last week.

“We’ll have a proper church do after the war’s over,” added Irina, as she clutched the pair’s new wedding certificate. She had driven 400 miles (643km) east from Kyiv for the ceremony, which took place amid the sound of distant artillery fire. “We haven’t told our parents about the wedding yet – my mum and dad would have said it was too dangerous for me to come here.”

For those without a partner, patriotic local prostitutes offer 50 per cent discounts on production of an army ID card. And for couples keen to get the best out of their brief time together, Tetyana’s sex shop offers options for spicing up bedroom life.

One sex industry innovation is particularly popular – remote-controlled vibrators with smartphone-operated Wi-Fi controls, which allow soldiers to pleasure their partners from a distance. In a war already dominated by the use of drones, it’s yet another way in which remote-controlled technology is changing.

“A soldier in his base can operate the controls of his wife’s sex toy once she’s back at home,” said Tetyana. “We have good reviews from the soldiers that have tried them.”

With soldiers’ wallets full of unspent combat pay, local hostelries might normally be doing a brisk trade in champagne and caviar. Right now, however, Kramatorsk’s hospitality scene offers limited options. Towns this close to the frontlines are banned from selling alcohol, and a 9pm curfew operates.

For those wanting a romantic meal, the best option used to be a booze-free cocktail and a pizza at Ria, a stylish bar-brasserie also popular with local families. As of last week, though, even that option was no more: on Tuesday night, Ria was destroyed by a Russian missile, killing 12 people including three teenage girls, and injuring 60 others. The Kremlin claimed it was a “command” station for Ukrainian troops, neglecting to explain why so many civilians were among the dead.

In the wake of the attack, many of Kramatorsk’s courting couples are now avoiding popular dining spots altogether. But with absence making the heart grow fonder, other forms of entertainment take priority anyway.

“We last saw each other four months ago, and that was just for six hours,” smirked Anastasia Korkh, 32, as she and boyfriend Andrei, 33, hugged at the station. “What else do you think we’d be doing tonight?”