Just a few kilometers from the front lines, a destroyed village school in the southern Mykolayiv region is a clear sign of the war damage Russia has inflicted on Ukrainian education.

Small desks are covered in a layer of debris and dust, while the front of the building, facing enemy lines, has been destroyed by repeated shelling.

At the rear, a collapsed roof and wall expose the school gymnasium to the elements. Charred car wrecks squat next to the battered, abandoned playground.

The Russian army has passed through the village twice since the war began, leaving the school intact both times, Sergiy, head of the village administration, told AFP.

But when Ukrainian troops took up positions there, “the Russians realized their mistake and bombed everything,” said the 51-year-old over the phone from Mykolaiv, where he now lives.

Most of the roofs in the heavily shelled village have now been blown off.

Only 25 of around 1,700 residents live there, he said.

During the day the streets are deserted – the silence broken only by the nearby roar of artillery.

Ukraine launched a counter-offensive three weeks ago, but the results of this in the region are still difficult to assess.

On Thursday, the village received a missile attack that tore a five-meter-deep crater in a vacant lot – a “Russian gift,” according to Lieutenant Andriy Grushelsky.

“The bomb must have weighed at least a ton. Thank God she fell 20 meters from our camp, otherwise I wouldn’t be speaking to you today,” he told AFP.

But the “really nice” village school was less fortunate, he said.

Almost 300 schools have been destroyed and over 2,550 damaged since the invasion began, according to UNESCO, citing Ukraine’s Ministry of Education.

Sergiy fondly remembers the building where 190 children studied from kindergarten to high school.

His wife ran the computer lab, his eldest child was a graduate student, and his youngest student—until Russia invaded seven months ago.

“We put so much time and effort into making the school as good as possible. The lessons were great. Even our canteen was better than anywhere else,” he said.

In what is left of the premises, next to drawings, there are painted letters on the remains of a classroom wall, on overturned, broken furniture and books thrown on the floor.

“The Russians deliberately targeted the school. I hate them,” Sergiy said.

UNESCO Director-General Audrey Azoulay has regularly called for “the attacks on educational institutions, teachers and students to stop”.

But local schools often cannot provide enough protection, or are in disputed territory, or parents are too afraid to send their children there.

Amid all the fighting, Ukrainian authorities say about 40 percent of Ukrainian students started their school year online only.

In a nearby village, also visited by AFP on Saturday, a mortar shell exploded in front of a handsome brick schoolhouse, blowing out most of the windows.

“My soul is ripped out of my body when I see this destruction,” said Alla Kovalenko, parent of a former student.

A photo on Kovalenko’s phone shows her son waltzing with his girlfriend at a graduation party last year.

Now the stairs on which it took place are scarred by bomb fragments.

“If I could, I would take the Russian soldiers and cut them up millimeter by millimeter,” she said bitterly.

“They are not only robbing us of our schools, but also of our children’s future.”