A Full Meters Under Ground, a Hidden Medical Facility Cares for Ukrainian Troops Injured by Enemy Unmanned Aerial Vehicles
Sparse trees hide the entryway. A sloping wooden tunnel descends to a well-illuminated reception area. Inside lies a surgery unit, outfitted with beds, cardiac monitors and breathing machines. Plus shelves stocked of healthcare supplies, drugs and organized stacks of extra garments. In a break area with a washing machine and hot water heater, doctors monitor a screen. The screen reveals the movements of enemy surveillance UAVs as they zigzag in the air above.
Medical personnel at an subterranean medical center observe a monitor showing enemy kamikaze and reconnaissance drones in the region.
Welcome to the nation's covert underground medical facility. This center began operations in August and is the second such installation, situated in eastern Ukraine not far from the combat zone and the urban area of Pokrovsk in Donetsk oblast. “We are 6 metres under the ground. This is the safest way of delivering care to our injured military personnel. And it keeps healthcare workers safe,” said the facility's lead doctor, Major the chief surgeon.
The stabilisation point treats thirty to forty casualties a day. Cases differ widely. Certain individuals suffer from catastrophic leg injuries requiring surgical removal, or serious stomach wounds. Others can walk. The vast majority are the casualties of enemy FPV drones, which drop grenades with deadly accuracy. “Ninety per cent of our patients are from first-person view drones. We see few gunshot wounds. It’s an era of drones and a new type of conflict,” the doctor said.
Maj Oleksandr Holovashchenko at the subterranean facility for treating injured troops in eastern Ukraine.
During one afternoon recently, a group of three soldiers walked with difficulty into the facility. The most lightly injured, twenty-eight-year-old Artem Dvorskyi, reported an first-person view drone blast had ripped a minor wound in his leg. “Conflict is terrible. The guy next to me, Vasyl, was killed,” he said. “He fell down. Then the enemy forces dropped a another grenade on him.” He added: “Everything in the settlement is demolished. We see drones everywhere and bodies. Ours and theirs.”
Dvorskyi said his squad endured 43 days in a wooded zone close to the city, which Russia has been trying to seize since last year. Sole access to get to their location was by walking. Necessary provisions arrived by quadcopter: food and drinking water. A week following he was hurt, he walked five kilometers (roughly three miles), requiring several hours, to a point where an armoured vehicle was able to evacuate him. At the clinic, a medic checked his physical condition. Following care, a nurse gave him new non-military attire: a T-shirt and a set of light-colored denim trousers.
Artem Dvorskiy, 28, stated a FPV aerial device caused a small hole in his leg.
Another patient, thirty-eight-year-old a serviceman, said a UAV explosion had left him with a head injury. “My position was in a trench shelter. It suddenly became black. I couldn’t feel any feeling or hear anything,” he said. “I believe I was fortunate to remain alive. My cousin has been lost. There are ongoing explosions.” A construction worker employed in a neighboring country, he noted he had come back to his homeland and volunteered to fight days before the Russian leader's large-scale attack in early 2022.
A third soldier, a serviceman, had been hit in the back. He groaned as medical staff laid him on a bed, removed a bloody bandage and cleaned his recent injury from fragments. Covered in a foil blanket, he borrowed a mobile phone to call his family member. “A piece of artillery struck me. It was a deflected projectile. I’m OK,” he told her. What comes next for him? “To get better. That will take a few months. Subsequently, to return to my military group. Someone has to defend our nation,” he affirmed.
Medical staff care for Taras Mykolaichuk, who was hit in the back by a fragment of artillery shell.
Over the past years, Russia has consistently targeted hospitals, clinics, obstetric units and ambulances. According to international monitors, 261 health workers have been killed in almost two thousand assaults. The underground facility is constructed from multiple reinforced shelters, with timber beams, soil and sand placed above reaching ground level. It is designed to resist impacts from large-caliber projectiles and even multiple eight-kilogram TNT charges released by aerial means.
The Ukrainian steel and mining company, which funded the building, intends to erect twenty facilities in all. The head of Ukraine’s national security council and ex- military leader, the official, said they would be “critically essential for saving the survival of our armed forces and supporting troops on the frontline.” The company described the project as the “largest-scale and demanding” it had implemented after the enemy's invasion.
An example of the centre’s operating theatres.
Holovashchenko, said some wounded personnel had to endure delays hours or even days before they could be transported because of the threat of aerial attacks. “Our facility received two critically ill patients who arrived at 3am. It was necessary to perform a removal of both limbs on a patient. The soldier's bleeding control device had been applied for such an extended period there was no alternative.” What is his method with severe surgeries? “My career in medicine for two decades. One must concentrate,” he remarked.
Medical assistants wheeled Mykolaichuk up the passage and into an ambulance. The vehicle was parked under a bush. He and the two other soldiers were transferred to the city of a major city for additional medical care. The underground medical team paused for rest. The hospital’s ginger cat, Vasilevs, walked toward the entrance to greet the incoming patients. “Our facility operates active 24 hours a day,” Holovashchenko stated. “The work is continuous.”