A Full Meters Under the Earth, a Secret Hospital Treats Ukraine's Troops Injured by Enemy Unmanned Aerial Vehicles
Scrubby trees hide the entryway. A sloping timber tunnel descends to a well-illuminated welcome zone. There is a operating ward, outfitted with beds, heart rate sensors and ventilators. And cabinets full of healthcare supplies, drugs and organized stacks of extra garments. In a staff room with a washing machine and kettle, doctors keep an eye on a display. The screen reveals the flight patterns of Russian surveillance UAVs as they zigzag in the sky above.
Hospital staff at an subterranean medical center observe a monitor showing Russian suicide and reconnaissance drones in the region.
Welcome to the nation's covert underground medical facility. The facility opened in August and is the second of its kind, located in eastern Ukraine close to the frontline and the urban area of Pokrovsk in the Donetsk region. “We are six meters below the ground. This is the safest way of delivering care to our injured military personnel. And it keeps healthcare workers safe,” stated the clinic’s lead doctor, Maj the chief surgeon.
The stabilisation point handles 30-40 patients a each day. Cases differ widely. Certain individuals suffer from devastating leg injuries requiring amputations, or serious stomach wounds. Some patients can move on their own. The vast majority are the victims of Russian FPV aerial devices, which drop explosives with lethal accuracy. “90% of our patients are from FPVs. We encounter minimal bullet injuries. It’s an age of drones and a new type of war,” the surgeon said.
Maj Oleksandr Holovashchenko at the underground installation for caring for injured soldiers in the eastern region.
On one day last week, a group of three soldiers walked with difficulty into the facility. The most lightly injured, twenty-eight-year-old Artem Dvorskyi, said an FPV blast had ripped a small hole in his limb. “War is terrible. My comrade next to me, Vasyl, was killed,” he stated. “He fell down. Then the enemy forces dropped a second grenade on him.” He continued: “Everything in the settlement is destroyed. There are UAVs everywhere and bodies. Our side's and theirs.”
Dvorskyi explained his unit spent 43 days in a wooded zone near the city, which enemy forces has been attempting to capture for many months. The only way to reach their position was on foot. Necessary provisions came by drone: food and drinking water. A week after he was injured, he traveled five kilometers (about 3 miles), requiring three hours, to where an armoured vehicle was able to evacuate him. At the clinic, a medic assessed his vital signs. After treatment, a medical attendant gave him new non-military attire: a shirt and a pair of pale jeans.
Artem Dvorskiy, 28, said a first-person view drone caused a small hole in his lower limb.
A different casualty, thirty-eight-year-old Pavlo Filipchuk, recounted a UAV explosion had resulted in concussion. “My position was in a dugout. Suddenly it went dark. I couldn’t feel anything or hear anything,” he explained. “I believe I was fortunate to remain alive. A relative has been killed. We face continuous explosions.” A builder employed in a neighboring country, Filipchuk said he had returned to his homeland and volunteered to serve shortly before Vladimir Putin’s full-scale invasion in February 2022.
Another military member, Taras Mykolaichuk, had been struck in the back. He expressed pain as doctors placed him on a medical cot, removed a bloody dressing and cleaned his recent injury from fragments. Wrapped in a foil blanket, he used a mobile phone to ring his family member. “A fragment of mortar struck me. The cause was a ricochet. I’m OK,” he informed her. What were his plans now? “To get better. That will take a several months. After that, to go back to my unit. Our forces must protect our country,” he affirmed.
Medical staff treat the wounded soldier, who was hit in the dorsal area by a piece of mortar.
Over the past years, enemy forces has repeatedly attacked hospitals, health facilities, obstetric units and ambulances. Per human rights groups, over two hundred medical personnel have been fatally attacked in nearly two thousand attacks. This subterranean hospital is constructed from multiple reinforced shelters, with wooden supports, earth and granular material laid on top up to the surface. It is designed to resist impacts from 152mm artillery shells and even three eight-kilogram explosive devices dropped by drone.
A major steel and mining company, which financed the construction, intends to build 20 facilities in total. The head of the nation's national security council and ex- defence minister, Rustem Umerov, said they would be “critically essential for saving the lives of our armed forces and supporting defenders on the frontline.” The company referred to the project as the “most ambitious and demanding” it had undertaken after Russia’s military offensive.
One of the centre’s surgical rooms.
Holovashchenko, explained certain wounded personnel had to endure delays hours or even days before they could be evacuated due to the danger of air assaults. “We had two critically ill casualties who came at the early hours. I had to carry out a removal of both limbs on a patient. His bleeding control device had been applied for such an extended period there was no other option.” How did he cope with traumatic operations? “My career in healthcare for 20 years. One must concentrate,” he remarked.
Medical assistants wheeled the soldier up the tunnel and into an emergency vehicle. The vehicle was stationed under a bush. The patient and the two other soldiers were taken to the city of a major city for further treatment. The subterranean hospital staff took a break. The facility's orange feline, Vasilevs, walked toward the doorway to greet the next arrivals. “Our facility operates active around the clock,” Holovashchenko said. “It doesn’t stop.”