Six Metres Under the Earth, a Hidden Hospital Treats Ukrainian Troops Wounded by Russian Drones

Scrubby foliage hide the entryway. One sloping wooden passageway descends to a well-illuminated reception area. There is a operating ward, equipped with gurneys, heart rate sensors and breathing machines. Plus shelves full of healthcare supplies, drugs and neat piles of extra garments. Within a staff room with a washing machine and kettle, doctors monitor a screen. It shows the movements of Russian surveillance UAVs as they weave in the air above.

This is the nation's covert below-ground hospital. The facility began operations in the eighth month and is the second such installation, situated in the eastern part of the country not far from the frontline and the city of Pokrovsk in the Donetsk region. “We are 6 metres below the earth. This is the most secure way of providing help to our wounded soldiers. It also ensures medical personnel protected,” said the facility's surgeon, Maj the chief surgeon.

This medical station treats thirty to forty patients a day. Cases differ widely. Some have devastating limb trauma requiring surgical removal, or serious stomach wounds. Some patients can move on their own. The vast majority are the casualties of Russian FPV drones, which release explosives with lethal precision. “Ninety per cent of our cases are from first-person view drones. We encounter few bullet injuries. This is an age of drones and a different kind of conflict,” the doctor explained.

During one day last week, a group of three military members walked with difficulty into the hospital. The least severely hurt, 28-year-old Artem Dvorskyi, said an first-person view drone blast had ripped a small hole in his leg. “Conflict is terrible. My comrade next to me, a fellow soldier, was fatally wounded,” he said. “He collapsed. Then the Russians released a another explosive on him.” He added: “Everything in the village is demolished. We see UAVs everywhere and casualties. Our side's and theirs.”

The soldier explained his unit endured 43 days in a forest area near the city, which Russia has been attempting to capture for many months. The only way to get to their position was on foot. Necessary provisions arrived by quadcopter: rations and water. A week after he was injured, he walked 5km (about 3 miles), requiring several hours, to a point where an military transport was able to evacuate him. Upon arrival, a medic checked his physical condition. Following care, a nurse gave him fresh civilian clothes: a shirt and a set of pale jeans.

Another patient, thirty-eight-year-old a serviceman, said a drone blast had resulted in concussion. “I was in a dugout. It suddenly went dark. I couldn’t feel anything or any sound,” he explained. “I think I was fortunate to survive. My cousin has been killed. We face ongoing detonations.” A construction worker employed in Lithuania, Filipchuk noted he had come back to his homeland and enlisted to serve days before Vladimir Putin’s large-scale attack in February 2022.

Another military member, a serviceman, had been hit in the back. He groaned as doctors laid him on a medical cot, took off a bloody dressing and treated his recent injury from fragments. Covered in a thermal sheet, he used a cellphone to call his family member. “A fragment of mortar hit me. The cause was a deflected projectile. I’m OK,” he told her. What were his plans now? “To recover. That will take a few months. Subsequently, to go back to my military group. Our forces must defend our country,” he affirmed.

Over the past years, Russia has consistently attacked medical centers, clinics, obstetric units and ambulances. According to international monitors, 261 health workers have been killed in nearly 2,000 assaults. The underground facility is constructed from multiple steel bunkers, with timber beams, earth and granular material laid on top reaching the surface. It can withstand direct hits from 152mm projectiles and even multiple eight-kilogram TNT charges released by aerial means.

A major industrial group, which financed the construction, intends to build twenty facilities in all. A senior official of Ukraine’s national security council and former defence minister, the official, said they would be “vitally important for preserving the lives of our military and assisting troops on the frontline.” The company referred to the project as the “largest-scale and demanding” it had implemented since the enemy's invasion.

The surgeon, said some wounded soldiers had to endure delays hours or even multiple days before they could be evacuated because of the threat of air assaults. “Our facility received a pair of critically ill casualties who arrived at the early hours. It was necessary to carry out a double amputation on a patient. His tourniquet had been on for such an extended period there was no alternative.” What is his method with traumatic operations? “I’ve been medicine for two decades. You have to focus,” he said.

Orderlies transported Mykolaichuk through the tunnel and into an emergency vehicle. The vehicle was stationed under a shrub. He and the 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, Vasilevs, padded toward the entrance to await the incoming patients. “Our facility operates active 24 hours a day,” Holovashchenko stated. “The work is continuous.”