Scrubby foliage conceal the entryway. A sloping wooden tunnel descends to a well-illuminated welcome zone. Inside lies a surgery unit, outfitted with beds, cardiac monitors and breathing machines. And shelves stocked of healthcare supplies, drugs and organized stacks of extra garments. Within a break area with a laundry appliance and kettle, doctors monitor a screen. The screen reveals the flight patterns of enemy surveillance UAVs as they weave in the air above.
Hospital personnel at an subterranean medical center look at a monitor displaying Russian kamikaze and reconnaissance UAVs in the area.
This is the nation's secret below-ground hospital. This center began operations in the eighth month and is the second such installation, situated in eastern Ukraine not far from the combat zone and the city of a key location in the Donetsk region. “We are six meters below the earth. It’s the most secure method of providing help to our wounded military personnel. And it keeps healthcare workers protected,” said the facility's lead doctor, Major the chief surgeon.
The stabilisation point treats 30-40 casualties a day. Their conditions vary. Certain individuals suffer from catastrophic leg injuries necessitating amputations, or serious abdominal injuries. Some patients can walk. The vast majority are the casualties of enemy FPV drones, which drop explosives with lethal precision. “90% of our patients are from first-person view drones. We see minimal bullet injuries. This is an age of drones and a different kind of war,” the surgeon said.
Maj the senior surgeon at the subterranean installation for treating wounded soldiers in eastern Ukraine.
During one day last week, a group of three soldiers walked with difficulty into the hospital. The most lightly injured, 28-year-old one soldier, reported an first-person view drone blast had ripped a minor wound in his limb. “Conflict is terrible. The guy next to me, a fellow soldier, was fatally wounded,” he stated. “He fell down. Subsequently the enemy forces dropped a another explosive on him.” He added: “All structures in the settlement is demolished. There are UAVs everywhere and bodies. Ours and the enemy's.”
Dvorskyi said his unit endured 43 days in a forest area close to Pokrovsk, which Russia has been attempting to capture for many months. Sole access to reach their position was by walking. Necessary provisions arrived by drone: 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. At the clinic, a medic assessed his physical condition. After treatment, a nurse gave him fresh non-military attire: a T-shirt and a pair of light-colored jeans.
The soldier, twenty-eight, said a first-person view drone caused a minor injury in his lower limb.
A different casualty, 38-year-old a serviceman, said a drone blast had left him with a head injury. “My position was in a dugout. Suddenly it went dark. I couldn’t feel anything or any sound,” he explained. “I think I was lucky to survive. A relative has been lost. There are continuous explosions.” A builder employed in Lithuania, Filipchuk noted he had come back to his homeland and volunteered to serve days before Vladimir Putin’s full-scale invasion in early 2022.
Another military member, Taras Mykolaichuk, had been struck in the back. He groaned as doctors laid him on a medical cot, removed a bloody bandage and treated his recent shrapnel wound. Wrapped in a thermal sheet, he used a cellphone to call his sister. “A fragment of artillery struck me. It was a deflected projectile. I’m OK,” he told her. What were his plans now? “To get better. This may require a few months. Subsequently, to return to my military group. Someone has to defend our nation,” he affirmed.
Medical staff care for the wounded soldier, who was injured in the back by a fragment of mortar.
Since 2022, Russia has repeatedly targeted hospitals, clinics, obstetric units and ambulances. Per international monitors, over two hundred health workers have been killed in nearly two thousand attacks. The underground facility is built from four steel bunkers, with wooden supports, earth and sand laid on top reaching ground level. It is designed to resist impacts from 152mm projectiles and even multiple eight-kilogram TNT charges released by drone.
The Ukrainian industrial group, which financed the building, plans to build twenty units in total. A senior official of Ukraine’s national security council and former military leader, the official, said they would be “vitally essential for preserving the lives of our military and assisting defenders on the frontline.” The company referred to the project as the “largest-scale and challenging” it had undertaken since the enemy's military offensive.
One of the centre’s operating theatres.
The surgeon, said certain wounded personnel had to wait hours or even days before they could be evacuated because of the threat of aerial attacks. “We had two critically ill casualties who came at the early hours. I had to perform a double amputation on a patient. His tourniquet had been applied for such an extended period there was no other option.” What is his method with traumatic surgeries? “My career in healthcare for 20 years. You have to focus,” he remarked.
Orderlies wheeled Mykolaichuk up the passage and into an ambulance. The vehicle was stationed beneath a bush. He and the two other military members were transferred to the city of Dnipro for further treatment. The underground medical team took a break. The facility's orange feline, the mascot, padded up to the entrance to greet the next arrivals. “We are active around the clock,” the surgeon stated. “The work is continuous.”
