Six Metres Under Ground, a Hidden Medical Facility Treats Ukrainian Soldiers Wounded by Enemy Drones
Sparse foliage hide the entryway. A descending timber tunnel descends to a well-illuminated welcome zone. There is a surgery unit, outfitted with beds, heart rate sensors and breathing machines. And cabinets full of healthcare supplies, medications and neat piles of extra garments. Within a staff room with a laundry appliance and hot water heater, physicians keep an eye on a screen. The screen reveals the flight patterns of enemy surveillance UAVs as they weave in the air above.
Medical personnel at an subterranean hospital look at a screen showing enemy kamikaze and reconnaissance drones in the area.
Welcome to the nation's secret underground medical facility. This center opened in August and is the second such installation, located in eastern Ukraine not far from the combat zone and the urban area of a key location in Donetsk oblast. “We are six meters under the ground. This is the safest way of delivering care to our injured military personnel. And it keeps healthcare workers safe,” said the clinic’s lead doctor, Maj the chief surgeon.
This medical station handles thirty to forty casualties a each day. Cases differ widely. Some have devastating leg injuries requiring surgical removal, or severe stomach wounds. Some patients can walk. Almost all are the victims of enemy first-person view (FPV) aerial devices, which release explosives with deadly accuracy. “Ninety per cent of our patients are from first-person view drones. We see few gunshot wounds. This is an age of drones and a different kind of conflict,” the surgeon said.
Major the senior surgeon at the subterranean facility for caring for injured soldiers in the eastern region.
During one day recently, three soldiers walked with difficulty into the facility. The least severely hurt, twenty-eight-year-old Artem Dvorskyi, said an first-person view drone explosion had torn a small hole in his limb. “Conflict is terrible. My comrade next to me, Vasyl, was killed,” he stated. “He fell down. Subsequently the Russians released a second explosive on him.” He continued: “All structures in the settlement is demolished. We see drones all around and bodies. Our side's and theirs.”
Dvorskyi said his squad endured 43 days in a wooded zone near Pokrovsk, which Russia has been attempting to capture for many months. Sole access to get to their position was by walking. Necessary provisions arrived by quadcopter: rations and drinking water. A week after he was hurt, he traveled 5km (about 3 miles), taking three hours, to where an military transport was able to pick him up. Upon arrival, a medical staff checked his physical condition. After treatment, a nurse provided him with new civilian clothes: a shirt and a pair of light-colored denim trousers.
Artem Dvorskiy, 28, said a FPV aerial device ripped a minor injury in his leg.
Another patient, 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 lost sensation any feeling or any sound,” he explained. “I believe I was fortunate to survive. A relative has been lost. There are continuous detonations.” A construction worker employed in Lithuania, he said he had returned to his homeland and enlisted to serve days before the Russian leader's large-scale attack 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 treated his two-day-old injury from fragments. Covered in a foil blanket, he used a cellphone to ring his sister. “A fragment of mortar hit me. The cause was a ricochet. My condition is stable,” he told her. What were his plans now? “To get better. This may require a few months. After that, to go back to my unit. Someone must defend our country,” he said.
Medical staff treat Taras Mykolaichuk, who was hit in the back by a piece of artillery shell.
Since 2022, Russia has consistently attacked medical centers, health facilities, obstetric units and ambulances. Per human rights groups, 261 health workers have been killed in almost two thousand attacks. The underground facility is constructed from four steel bunkers, with timber beams, earth and granular material laid on top reaching ground level. It can withstand impacts from large-caliber artillery shells and even multiple eight-kilogram explosive devices released by drone.
A major steel and mining company, which funded the building, intends to erect twenty units in total. A senior official of Ukraine’s security agency and ex- military leader, Rustem Umerov, said they would be “critically essential for preserving the survival of our military and supporting defenders on the frontline.” The organization described the project as the “most ambitious and demanding” it had undertaken after the enemy's military offensive.
An example of the centre’s operating theatres.
The surgeon, said certain wounded soldiers had to wait hours or even multiple days before they could be evacuated due to the danger of aerial attacks. “Our facility received a pair of severely injured casualties who arrived at the early hours. I had to perform a double amputation on a patient. The soldier's 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 medicine for 20 years. You have to concentrate,” he remarked.
Medical assistants transported Mykolaichuk up the passage and into an ambulance. The vehicle was parked beneath a shrub. He and the other soldiers were taken to the city of a major city for additional medical care. The subterranean medical team took a break. The hospital’s orange feline, Vasilevs, walked toward the doorway to greet the incoming patients. “We are open 24 hours a day,” the surgeon stated. “It doesn’t stop.”