A Full Metres Below the Earth, a Hidden Medical Facility Cares for Ukrainian Soldiers Wounded by Russian Drones
Sparse trees hide the entryway. One descending wooden tunnel leads down to a well-illuminated welcome zone. There is a surgery unit, equipped with gurneys, heart rate sensors and breathing machines. And cabinets stocked of medical equipment, medications and neat piles of spare clothes. Within a staff room with a laundry appliance and hot water heater, doctors keep an eye on a display. The screen reveals the flight patterns of enemy spy drones as they weave in the air above.
Hospital staff at an subterranean hospital observe a monitor displaying enemy kamikaze and reconnaissance drones in the area.
Welcome to Ukraine’s covert underground medical facility. This center began operations in August and is the second of its kind, located in the eastern part of the country not far from the combat zone and the urban area of Pokrovsk in the Donetsk region. “We are six meters under the ground. It’s the safest way of providing help to our wounded soldiers. And it keeps medical personnel protected,” said the facility's lead doctor, Major Oleksandr Holovashchenko.
This medical station treats 30-40 patients a day. Cases differ widely. Some have devastating limb trauma necessitating amputations, or severe stomach wounds. Some patients can move on their own. Almost all are the victims of enemy FPV drones, which drop grenades with lethal accuracy. “90% of our cases are from first-person view drones. We see minimal bullet injuries. It’s an age of drones and a different kind of war,” the surgeon explained.
Major the senior surgeon at the underground installation for treating wounded troops in the eastern region.
On one day recently, three military members walked with difficulty into the facility. The most lightly injured, 28-year-old Artem Dvorskyi, said an FPV blast had ripped a small hole in his leg. “War is terrible. The guy beside me, a fellow soldier, was fatally wounded,” he stated. “He fell down. Then the enemy forces dropped a second explosive on him.” He added: “All structures in the settlement is destroyed. We see drones all around and casualties. Our side's and theirs.”
Dvorskyi said his squad spent over a month in a wooded zone near Pokrovsk, which enemy forces has been trying to seize for many months. Sole access to get to their location was by walking. Necessary provisions arrived by quadcopter: food and drinking water. Seven days after he was hurt, he walked five kilometers (about 3 miles), taking three hours, to a point where an armoured vehicle was able to evacuate him. Upon arrival, a medical staff checked his physical condition. Following care, a nurse provided him with new non-military attire: a shirt and a set of pale jeans.
The soldier, 28, said a first-person view drone ripped a small hole in his leg.
Another patient, 38-year-old a serviceman, said a drone blast had resulted in concussion. “My position was in a trench shelter. Suddenly it became black. I couldn’t feel any feeling or any sound,” he explained. “I think I was fortunate to survive. A relative has been lost. We face ongoing explosions.” A construction worker employed in a neighboring country, Filipchuk said he had returned to his homeland and volunteered to fight days before the Russian leader's large-scale attack in early 2022.
Another military member, Taras Mykolaichuk, had been struck in the back. He groaned as doctors laid him on a medical cot, took off a stained dressing and treated his recent injury from fragments. Covered in a thermal sheet, he used a cellphone to call his family member. “A piece of artillery hit me. It was a deflected projectile. My condition is stable,” he informed her. What comes next for him? “To get better. This may require a several months. Subsequently, to return to my military group. Our forces has to protect our country,” he said.
Doctors treat the wounded soldier, who was hit in the dorsal area by a piece of artillery shell.
Since 2022, Russia has consistently attacked hospitals, clinics, obstetric units and emergency vehicles. Per international monitors, 261 health workers have been killed in almost 2,000 assaults. The underground facility is built from four reinforced shelters, with timber beams, soil and sand laid on top reaching ground level. It is designed to resist direct hits from large-caliber projectiles and even multiple eight-kilogram explosive devices released by drone.
A major steel and mining company, which funded the construction, plans to erect twenty facilities in total. A senior official of Ukraine’s national security council and former military leader, the official, said they would be “vitally important for preserving the lives of our military and assisting defenders on the frontline.” The company described the project as the “most ambitious and demanding” it had implemented after Russia’s military offensive.
One of the centre’s surgical rooms.
The surgeon, explained some injured soldiers had to endure delays hours or even days before they could be transported because of the threat of air assaults. “We had a pair of critically ill casualties who came at the early hours. I had to perform a double amputation on one of them. His tourniquet had been on for so long there was no other option.” What is his method with traumatic operations? “I’ve been medicine for 20 years. One must focus,” he remarked.
Medical assistants wheeled Mykolaichuk up the tunnel and into an emergency vehicle. The transport was parked under a shrub. The patient and the other soldiers were transferred to the city of Dnipro for additional medical care. The subterranean medical team paused for rest. The facility's ginger cat, Vasilevs, padded up to the entrance to greet the incoming patients. “We are active 24 hours a day,” Holovashchenko stated. “The work is continuous.”