A Full Metres Under Ground, a Secret Hospital Treats Ukrainian Troops Injured by Russian Drones

Sparse trees hide the entryway. One descending wooden tunnel descends to a brightly lit reception area. Inside lies a operating ward, equipped with beds, cardiac monitors and ventilators. And shelves full of healthcare supplies, drugs and neat piles of extra garments. In a break area with a laundry appliance and hot water heater, physicians monitor a display. The screen reveals the movements of enemy spy drones as they weave in the air above.

Hospital personnel at an underground hospital look at a monitor showing Russian suicide and reconnaissance drones in the region.

This is the nation's secret below-ground medical facility. The facility began operations in August and is the second of its kind, situated in the eastern part of the country close to the combat zone and the city of Pokrovsk in Donetsk oblast. “We are six meters under the earth. It’s the most secure method of providing help to our injured military personnel. And it keeps healthcare workers protected,” said the clinic’s surgeon, Maj the chief surgeon.

The stabilisation point treats thirty to forty patients a day. Cases differ widely. Some have catastrophic limb trauma necessitating amputations, or severe abdominal injuries. Some patients can move on their own. Almost all are the victims of Russian FPV aerial devices, which drop explosives with deadly accuracy. “90% of our patients are from FPVs. We encounter minimal bullet injuries. This is an age of drones and a new type of conflict,” the surgeon explained.

Major Oleksandr Holovashchenko at the subterranean facility for treating injured troops in the eastern region.

During one afternoon recently, a group of three soldiers limped into the facility. The most lightly injured, twenty-eight-year-old Artem Dvorskyi, reported an FPV blast had torn a minor wound in his leg. “War is terrible. The guy next to me, a fellow soldier, was fatally wounded,” he said. “He collapsed. Subsequently the enemy forces dropped a second grenade on him.” He added: “Everything in the settlement is destroyed. There are UAVs all around and casualties. Our side's and theirs.”

Dvorskyi explained his squad spent 43 days in a wooded zone near the city, which Russia has been trying to seize since last year. The only way to reach their location was by walking. All supplies came by drone: food and water. A week after he was injured, he traveled 5km (roughly three miles), taking three hours, to a point where an military transport was able to evacuate him. Upon arrival, a medic checked his vital signs. After treatment, a nurse gave him fresh civilian clothes: a T-shirt and a pair of pale denim trousers.

The soldier, 28, said a FPV drone caused a minor injury in his leg.

A different casualty, thirty-eight-year-old a serviceman, recounted a UAV explosion had left him with a head injury. “I was in a dugout. It suddenly went dark. I lost sensation any feeling or any sound,” he said. “I believe I was fortunate to remain alive. My cousin has been killed. There are ongoing detonations.” A construction worker employed in Lithuania, Filipchuk noted he had come back to his homeland and volunteered to serve days before the Russian leader's large-scale attack in early 2022.

Another military member, Taras Mykolaichuk, had been struck in the back. He groaned as medical staff 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 borrowed a mobile phone to call his family member. “A piece of artillery struck me. The cause was a deflected projectile. I’m OK,” he told her. What comes next for him? “To get better. This may require a several months. Subsequently, to go back to my military group. Our forces must defend our country,” he said.

Medical staff care for Taras Mykolaichuk, who was hit in the back by a fragment of mortar.

Over the past years, Russia has consistently targeted medical centers, clinics, obstetric units and ambulances. Per international monitors, over two hundred medical personnel have been killed in nearly two thousand assaults. The underground facility is built from four reinforced shelters, with wooden supports, earth and granular material laid on top reaching the surface. It is designed to resist direct hits from large-caliber projectiles and even three eight-kilogram explosive devices dropped by drone.

A major steel and mining company, which financed the building, intends to erect twenty units in total. A senior official of the nation's national security council and ex- military leader, Rustem Umerov, said they would be “vitally essential for preserving the lives of our military and supporting troops on the battlefront.” The company referred to the initiative as the “largest-scale and demanding” it had implemented since the enemy's military offensive.

One of the facility's surgical rooms.

Holovashchenko, explained some wounded personnel had to wait hours or even multiple days before they could be transported due to the danger of air assaults. “Our facility received a pair of severely injured casualties who came at 3am. I had to perform a double amputation on a patient. The soldier's tourniquet had been applied for so long there was no other option.” What is his method with traumatic surgeries? “My career in medicine for two decades. One must concentrate,” he said.

Medical assistants wheeled Mykolaichuk through the passage and into an emergency vehicle. The vehicle was stationed under a shrub. The patient and the other soldiers were taken to the city of a major city for further treatment. The subterranean hospital staff paused for rest. The facility's ginger cat, the mascot, walked up to the doorway to await the next arrivals. “We are active 24 hours a day,” the surgeon said. “It doesn’t stop.”

Jeffrey Brewer
Jeffrey Brewer

A tech strategist with over a decade of experience in digital innovation and AI-driven solutions for global enterprises.