In fact, Belarus is exactly what Putin wants Ukraine to become: a subservient neighbour ruled by a dictator kept in power through crushing dissent and increasingly rigged elections. Effectively, recreating the Greater Rus of centuries before: in the process establishing a buffer between Russia proper, and the perceived threat of NATO.

Belarus (literally ‘White Russia’) is slightly smaller than the UK, with a population of nine million, 20per cent of whom live in the capital, Minsk. Having few natural barriers, over the past 600 years it has been repeatedly trampled over by Russia’s enemies: Sweden (1708), Napoleon’s France (1812) and Nazi Germany (1942). Over 25per cent of the population of Belarus was killed during WW2, almost all civilians; including over half a million Jews. For comparison, Britain lost less than one per cent.

To add to this misfortune, most of the radioactive fallout from the Chernobyl nuclear explosion, just over the border in Ukraine, fell on Belarus. Few people died in the immediate aftermath, but the long-term pollution, now soaked into the local soil and water, will continue to affect Belarus for generations.

I’m sure Minsk looks much more attractive in summer than it did when I visited in January 2018. The temperature hovered around zero, with alternating rain and snow. Public facilities were closed, and the River Svislach was frozen over. Few people were out and about.

The centre of the city is dominated by faceless government buildings with statues of Lenin: and wide boulevards honouring Karl Marx and Patriotic Victory. The lack of advertising, signage or much colour suggested the city had remained virtually unchanged since Soviet times. Only further out from the centre, were there genuine attempts to build high-rise housing with contrasting colours and quirky roof-lines.

Once darkness fell, however, everything looked much better. Imaginative lighting lent character to the official buildings. Numerous restaurants served tasty traditional Eastern European food; especially borsch (warming vegetable soup with beetroot giving it a distinct redness, served with sour cream). Or draniki (fried pancakes made of potatoes, eggs, onions and flour), plus pork stews and sausages. Or Kvass (fermented bread with honey).

Belarus has its own breweries, and also offers Moldovan wine and the inevitable vodka. Most restaurants had bands playing live music. You could spend a warm and enjoyable evening almost anywhere.

Live music in Talaki restaurant

Daytime wanderings in the city included the Red Church, still celebrating a visit by Pope John Paul 2. A new football stadium (for Dinamo Minsk) in Graeco-Roman style. A trip by underground to Gorky Park. The Old Town area, rebuilt after almost total destruction in WW2. A synagogue/Holocaust museum, and a sculpture depicting lines of Jews awaiting massacre. Plus President Lukashenko’s huge Official Residence, guarded by a tank.

The rebuilt Old Town in central Minsk

Sheer distance and limited transport made day-trips to other Belarussian cities such as Brest or Nesvizh impossible.

But I did take one trip out of the capital, to the memorial village of Khatyn, (not to be confused with Khatyn Forest, in Russia, where thousands of Polish civilians were massacred after WW2.)

Memorial statue of a Khatyn survivor

In March 1943, Soviet partisans ambushed a Nazi convoy, killing a senior Commander. In reprisal, the Nazis rounded up all the villagers in nearby Khatyn, forced them into a barn, and set light to it, shooting anyone who tried to escape. A total of 149 were killed, including 75 children. Among the few survivors were two young girls, who were taken in by families in a nearby village – only to be killed three months later, as that village too suffered the same fate. In all, over 600 Belarussian villages were destroyed in the same way, for the same reason.

A family memorial in Khatyn

Each house in the village is now depicted by a low wall, and a chimney stack on which are listed the murdered occupants. Bells on each stack toll in unison every 30 seconds – representing the rate at which Belarusian citizens were killed during WW2. The message on the remaining monuments was clear: do not forget. I was there for two hours: alone in the snowy desolation. I won’t forget.

In the UK, we rightly remember and celebrate the Battle of Britain, Monty’s North Africa campaign, and the D-Day landings. It’s important we also remember the far greater sacrifices made by others, in the same cause.

Things have worsened in Belarus since 2018. A fifth rigged Presidential election, opposition candidates jail or exiled, subsequent demonstrations violently suppressed; even the hijacking of an international commercial flight to seize a dissident working abroad. Let alone the Ukraine war.

People like me are no longer welcome, even if I wanted to go. I’m just glad I was able to when I did.