🔗 Share this article

Scrubby trees conceal the entryway. One sloping timber tunnel leads down to a well-illuminated welcome zone. Inside lies a surgery unit, equipped with beds, cardiac monitors and breathing machines. And shelves full of healthcare supplies, medications and neat piles of spare clothes. Within a break area with a laundry appliance and kettle, doctors keep an eye on a display. The screen reveals the movements of Russian surveillance UAVs as they zigzag in the air above.

Hospital staff at an underground hospital observe a screen displaying Russian suicide and surveillance UAVs in the region.

This is the nation's secret below-ground hospital. The facility opened in August and is the second of its kind, situated in eastern Ukraine not far from the combat zone and the city of Pokrovsk in the Donetsk region. “Our facility sits 6 metres below the earth. This is the most secure method of delivering care to our wounded military personnel. And it keeps healthcare workers safe,” stated the clinic’s surgeon, Major the chief surgeon.

The stabilisation point handles thirty to forty casualties a day. Cases differ widely. Some have catastrophic limb trauma requiring surgical removal, or serious abdominal injuries. Others can move on their own. The vast majority are the casualties of enemy FPV aerial devices, which drop grenades with lethal accuracy. “Ninety per cent of our patients are from FPVs. We see minimal gunshot wounds. This is an era of drones and a new type of conflict,” the doctor explained.

Maj the senior surgeon at the subterranean facility for caring for wounded troops in the eastern region.

During one day recently, three soldiers walked with difficulty into the hospital. The most lightly injured, 28-year-old one soldier, said an first-person view drone blast had torn a small hole in his limb. “Conflict is horrific. My comrade beside me, a fellow soldier, was killed,” he said. “He fell down. Subsequently the enemy forces dropped a another grenade on him.” He added: “All structures in the settlement is destroyed. There are drones everywhere and casualties. Our side's and theirs.”

The soldier said his unit spent 43 days in a forest area near the city, which enemy forces has been trying to seize for many months. The only way to reach their position was by walking. All supplies came by quadcopter: food and water. Seven days following he was injured, he walked 5km (roughly three miles), requiring several hours, to where an armoured vehicle was able to evacuate him. At the clinic, a medical staff assessed his physical condition. Following care, a nurse provided him with new non-military attire: a shirt and a set of light-colored jeans.

Artem Dvorskiy, 28, stated a FPV aerial device caused a small hole in his leg.

Another patient, thirty-eight-year-old Pavlo Filipchuk, recounted a UAV explosion had resulted in concussion. “I was in a trench shelter. It suddenly became black. I lost sensation any feeling or hear anything,” he said. “I believe I was fortunate to survive. My cousin has been killed. There are continuous detonations.” A construction worker working in a neighboring country, Filipchuk said he had come back to his homeland and enlisted to fight days before the Russian leader's large-scale attack in February 2022.

A third soldier, Taras Mykolaichuk, had been struck in the upper body. He groaned as doctors placed him on a medical cot, took off a stained dressing and treated his two-day-old shrapnel wound. Covered in a foil blanket, he used a mobile phone to ring his family member. “A fragment of artillery hit me. It was a deflected projectile. My condition is stable,” he informed her. What were his plans now? “To recover. That will take a few months. After that, to go back to my military group. Our forces must protect our country,” he affirmed.

Doctors care for Taras Mykolaichuk, who was hit in the dorsal area by a fragment of artillery shell.

Over the past years, Russia has consistently attacked hospitals, health facilities, obstetric units and emergency vehicles. According to international monitors, 261 medical personnel have been fatally attacked in almost two thousand assaults. The underground facility is built from four steel bunkers, with timber beams, soil and sand placed above up to ground level. It is designed to resist impacts from 152mm artillery shells and even multiple 8kg explosive devices released by aerial means.

A major industrial group, which funded the construction, intends to build twenty facilities in total. The head of Ukraine’s national security council and former defence minister, the official, declared they would be “vitally essential for preserving the survival of our military and supporting troops on the frontline.” The organization referred to the initiative as the “most ambitious and demanding” it had implemented since Russia’s invasion.

An example of the centre’s operating theatres.

The surgeon, said certain wounded soldiers had to endure delays many hours or even days before they could be transported because of the danger of aerial attacks. “We had a pair of severely injured patients who arrived at 3am. It was necessary to carry out a removal of both limbs on a patient. The soldier's bleeding control device had been applied for such an extended period there was no alternative.” How did he cope with traumatic operations? “My career in healthcare for two decades. One must focus,” he said.

Medical assistants wheeled the soldier up the passage and into an ambulance. The vehicle was parked under a shrub. He and the other soldiers were taken to the city of a major city for further treatment. The subterranean medical team took a break. The hospital’s orange feline, the mascot, padded toward the entrance to greet the next arrivals. “Our facility operates open around the clock,” Holovashchenko said. “It doesn’t stop.”