Six Meters Below the Earth, a Secret Medical Facility Treats Ukraine's Troops Wounded by Russian Drones
Sparse trees hide the entrance. A descending wooden tunnel descends to a brightly lit welcome zone. Inside lies a operating ward, equipped with gurneys, cardiac monitors and ventilators. Plus cabinets full of medical equipment, drugs and organized stacks of extra garments. In a break area with a washing machine and hot water heater, doctors monitor a screen. The screen reveals the flight patterns of Russian surveillance UAVs as they zigzag in the air above.
Medical personnel at an subterranean medical center observe a screen displaying enemy kamikaze and reconnaissance drones in the region.
This is the nation's covert underground hospital. The facility opened in August and is the second of its kind, located in the eastern part of the country not far from the combat zone and the city of Pokrovsk in Donetsk oblast. “Our facility sits six meters below the earth. This is the safest method of providing help to our injured soldiers. It also ensures healthcare workers safe,” said the clinic’s lead doctor, Maj Oleksandr Holovashchenko.
The stabilisation point treats 30-40 patients a day. Cases differ widely. Some have devastating limb trauma requiring amputations, or severe stomach wounds. Some patients can walk. The vast majority are the victims of enemy FPV aerial devices, which release explosives with lethal precision. “Ninety per cent of our patients are from FPVs. We see few bullet injuries. This is an era of drones and a new type of conflict,” the doctor said.
Maj Oleksandr Holovashchenko at the underground installation for treating injured troops in eastern Ukraine.
On one afternoon last week, a group of three soldiers limped into the hospital. The most lightly injured, twenty-eight-year-old one soldier, reported an first-person view drone blast had ripped a minor wound in his limb. “War is horrific. My comrade beside me, a fellow soldier, was killed,” he said. “He collapsed. Subsequently the enemy forces released a second grenade on him.” He continued: “Everything in the village is demolished. There are drones everywhere and casualties. Ours and theirs.”
The soldier explained his squad endured over a month in a forest area near the city, which enemy forces has been attempting to capture since last year. The only way to get to their position was by walking. All supplies came by drone: food and water. A week following he was injured, he traveled five kilometers (roughly three miles), taking three hours, to a point where an armoured vehicle was able to pick him up. Upon arrival, a medical staff assessed his physical condition. After treatment, a medical attendant gave him fresh non-military attire: a shirt and a pair of pale denim trousers.
The soldier, 28, said a FPV aerial device caused a small hole in his lower limb.
A different casualty, 38-year-old Pavlo Filipchuk, recounted a drone blast had resulted in concussion. “My position was in a dugout. Suddenly it became black. I couldn’t feel anything or hear anything,” he said. “I believe I was fortunate to remain alive. A relative has been lost. We face continuous explosions.” A construction worker employed in Lithuania, Filipchuk said he had returned to Ukraine and volunteered to serve shortly before Vladimir Putin’s large-scale attack in February 2022.
A third soldier, Taras Mykolaichuk, had been hit in the upper body. He expressed pain as doctors laid him on a medical cot, removed a stained dressing and treated his recent shrapnel wound. Wrapped in a foil blanket, he used a cellphone to ring his sister. “A piece of artillery struck me. It was a ricochet. I’m OK,” he told her. What were his plans now? “To recover. This may require a several months. Subsequently, to return to my unit. Someone must protect our nation,” he affirmed.
Doctors care for Taras Mykolaichuk, who was injured in the back by a piece of artillery shell.
Since 2022, enemy forces has repeatedly targeted hospitals, clinics, obstetric units and ambulances. According to human rights groups, 261 health workers have been fatally attacked in nearly 2,000 assaults. The underground facility is constructed from four reinforced shelters, with timber beams, earth and granular material placed above reaching the surface. It is designed to resist direct hits from 152mm artillery shells and even three eight-kilogram TNT charges dropped by drone.
The Ukrainian industrial group, which funded the building, plans to erect 20 facilities in total. A senior official of Ukraine’s security agency and former defence minister, the official, declared they would be “critically essential for preserving the survival of our armed forces and assisting troops on the battlefront.” The organization referred to the project as the “most ambitious and challenging” it had implemented since the enemy's military offensive.
An example of the facility's operating theatres.
The surgeon, explained certain injured personnel had to endure delays many hours or even days before they could be evacuated because of the threat of air assaults. “Our facility received a pair of severely injured patients who came at 3am. It was necessary to carry out a double amputation on one of them. His tourniquet had been on for so long there was no other option.” How did he cope with traumatic operations? “My career in healthcare for two decades. One must focus,” he remarked.
Medical assistants wheeled the soldier through the tunnel and into an emergency vehicle. The transport was stationed under a bush. He and the two other soldiers were taken to the city of a major city for further treatment. The underground hospital staff paused for rest. The facility's orange feline, Vasilevs, walked toward the entrance to greet the incoming patients. “We are open around the clock,” Holovashchenko said. “It doesn’t stop.”