Six Meters Below Ground, a Secret Hospital Treats Ukrainian Soldiers Wounded by Russian Drones
Sparse trees conceal the entrance. A sloping wooden passageway leads down to a well-illuminated welcome zone. There is a operating ward, outfitted with beds, cardiac monitors and ventilators. And cabinets full of medical equipment, drugs and neat piles of extra garments. Within a staff room with a laundry appliance and kettle, doctors monitor a screen. It shows the flight patterns of Russian surveillance UAVs as they zigzag in the air above.
Hospital staff at an subterranean medical center observe a monitor displaying enemy suicide and reconnaissance UAVs in the region.
Welcome to the nation's covert below-ground hospital. This center opened in the eighth month and is the second such installation, situated in the eastern part of the country close to the frontline and the urban area of Pokrovsk in Donetsk oblast. “We are six meters below the ground. It’s the safest method of providing help to our wounded military personnel. It also ensures medical personnel safe,” said the facility's surgeon, Maj the chief surgeon.
This medical station treats 30-40 casualties a day. Their conditions vary. Some have devastating limb trauma necessitating amputations, or severe stomach wounds. Others can move on their own. The vast majority are the victims of Russian first-person view (FPV) drones, which drop grenades with lethal precision. “Ninety per cent of our cases are from FPVs. We encounter few bullet injuries. This is an era of drones and a new type of war,” the doctor explained.
Maj the senior surgeon at the subterranean installation for caring for injured troops in the eastern region.
On one afternoon last week, a group of three military members limped into the hospital. The least severely hurt, twenty-eight-year-old one soldier, reported an first-person view drone explosion had torn a small hole in his limb. “War is horrific. The guy next to me, a fellow soldier, was killed,” he stated. “He collapsed. Then the Russians dropped a second grenade on him.” He added: “Everything in the settlement is destroyed. There are UAVs all around and bodies. Our side's and the enemy's.”
Dvorskyi said his squad endured 43 days in a wooded zone close to the city, which Russia has been attempting to capture since last year. The only way to get to their location was on foot. All supplies arrived by quadcopter: rations and drinking water. A week after he was injured, he walked 5km (roughly three miles), requiring three hours, to a point where an military transport was able to pick him up. Upon arrival, a medical staff assessed his physical condition. After treatment, a nurse gave him new non-military attire: a T-shirt and a pair of pale jeans.
Artem Dvorskiy, 28, stated a FPV drone ripped a small hole in his lower limb.
Another patient, 38-year-old Pavlo Filipchuk, said a drone blast had left him with a head injury. “I was in a dugout. Suddenly it became black. I couldn’t feel any feeling or hear anything,” he said. “I think I was fortunate to survive. My cousin has been killed. There are ongoing explosions.” A builder working in a neighboring country, Filipchuk noted he had returned to his homeland and enlisted to fight days before the Russian leader's full-scale invasion in February 2022.
A third soldier, Taras Mykolaichuk, had been struck in the back. He expressed pain as doctors placed him on a bed, took off a bloody dressing and treated his two-day-old injury from fragments. Covered in a thermal sheet, he borrowed a mobile phone to call his sister. “A fragment of artillery hit me. The cause was a ricochet. I’m OK,” he informed her. What comes next for him? “To get better. This may require a few months. After that, to go back to my unit. Our forces must protect our country,” he affirmed.
Doctors treat the wounded soldier, who was hit in the dorsal area by a piece of mortar.
Over the past years, enemy forces has consistently targeted hospitals, health facilities, obstetric units and emergency vehicles. According to international monitors, 261 medical personnel have been killed in nearly two thousand attacks. The underground facility is built from multiple reinforced shelters, with timber beams, soil and sand placed above up to the surface. It is designed to resist direct hits from 152mm artillery shells and even three eight-kilogram explosive devices released by aerial means.
The Ukrainian steel and mining company, which financed the construction, intends to build twenty units in total. A senior official of the nation's national security council and former military leader, the official, said they would be “critically important for saving the survival of our armed forces and supporting troops on the frontline.” The organization referred to the initiative as the “most ambitious and challenging” it had undertaken since the enemy's invasion.
One of the facility's operating theatres.
The surgeon, explained some wounded soldiers had to endure delays many hours or even days before they could be evacuated due to the danger of aerial attacks. “Our facility received a pair of severely injured patients who came at the early hours. I had to perform a removal of both limbs on one of them. His bleeding control device had been on for such an extended period there was no other option.” How did he cope with severe surgeries? “I’ve been healthcare for two decades. One must concentrate,” he remarked.
Medical assistants wheeled Mykolaichuk through the passage and into an emergency vehicle. The vehicle was stationed under a shrub. The patient and the other military members were taken to the city of Dnipro for additional medical care. The underground hospital staff took a break. The hospital’s orange feline, Vasilevs, walked toward the entrance to greet the next arrivals. “Our facility operates open 24 hours a day,” the surgeon stated. “The work is continuous.”