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Scrubby trees hide the entryway. A descending timber tunnel leads down to a well-illuminated welcome zone. There is a operating ward, outfitted with beds, heart rate sensors and breathing machines. And cabinets stocked of healthcare supplies, medications and neat piles of spare clothes. In a break area with a washing machine and hot water heater, doctors keep an eye on a display. The screen reveals the movements of Russian spy drones as they zigzag in the air above.

Medical staff at an underground medical center look at a monitor showing Russian kamikaze and reconnaissance drones in the region.

This is Ukraine’s covert below-ground medical facility. The facility began operations in the eighth month and is the second of its kind, situated in eastern Ukraine not far from the frontline and the urban area of a key location in Donetsk oblast. “We are six meters below the earth. It’s the safest method of providing help to our injured soldiers. And it keeps medical personnel protected,” said the facility's lead doctor, Major Oleksandr Holovashchenko.

The stabilisation point treats thirty to forty casualties a day. Cases differ widely. Some have devastating limb trauma requiring surgical removal, or severe abdominal injuries. Others can move on their own. Almost all are the casualties of Russian FPV aerial devices, which drop grenades with lethal accuracy. “Ninety per cent of our patients are from first-person view drones. We encounter minimal bullet injuries. This is an era of unmanned aircraft and a new type of war,” the surgeon said.

Major the senior surgeon at the subterranean installation for caring for wounded soldiers in the eastern region.

During one day last week, a group of three military members walked with difficulty into the hospital. The least severely hurt, twenty-eight-year-old Artem Dvorskyi, reported an first-person view drone explosion had torn a small hole in his limb. “Conflict is horrific. The guy next to me, Vasyl, was killed,” he said. “He collapsed. Subsequently the Russians released a second grenade on him.” He continued: “Everything in the settlement is demolished. We see drones everywhere and bodies. Our side's and the enemy's.”

The soldier said his unit spent over a month in a forest area close to the city, which Russia has been attempting to capture since last year. The only way to reach their position was by walking. Necessary provisions came by quadcopter: rations and water. A week after he was injured, he walked 5km (roughly three miles), taking three hours, to where an military transport was able to evacuate him. Upon arrival, a medical staff checked his physical condition. After treatment, a medical attendant gave him fresh civilian clothes: a shirt and a pair of light-colored denim trousers.

Artem Dvorskiy, 28, said a FPV drone caused a minor injury in his leg.

A different casualty, thirty-eight-year-old Pavlo Filipchuk, recounted a drone blast had left him with concussion. “My position was in a trench shelter. Suddenly it became black. I lost sensation anything or any sound,” he said. “I believe I was lucky to survive. My cousin has been killed. There are continuous explosions.” A construction worker working in a neighboring country, Filipchuk noted he had come back to Ukraine and enlisted to serve days before the Russian leader's full-scale invasion in early 2022.

A third soldier, a serviceman, had been hit in the upper body. He expressed pain as doctors laid him on a medical cot, removed a bloody bandage and treated his recent shrapnel wound. Covered in a foil blanket, he used a mobile phone to ring his sister. “A fragment of artillery struck me. It was a deflected projectile. I’m OK,” he informed her. What were his plans now? “To get better. This may require a few months. Subsequently, to return to my military group. Our forces has to defend our nation,” he said.

Medical staff care for the wounded soldier, who was injured in the dorsal area by a piece of artillery shell.

Since 2022, Russia has repeatedly attacked medical centers, clinics, maternity wards and emergency vehicles. According to international monitors, 261 medical personnel have been fatally attacked in almost two thousand attacks. The underground facility is built from four steel bunkers, with timber beams, earth and granular material laid on top reaching ground level. It can withstand impacts from large-caliber projectiles and even three eight-kilogram TNT charges released by aerial means.

A major industrial group, which funded the construction, intends to build twenty facilities in total. A senior official of Ukraine’s security agency and ex- military leader, the official, declared they would be “critically essential for saving the lives of our military and assisting defenders on the frontline.” The organization described the initiative as the “most ambitious and challenging” it had implemented after Russia’s invasion.

One of the centre’s surgical rooms.

Holovashchenko, explained certain injured soldiers had to endure delays many hours or even days before they could be transported because of the danger of aerial attacks. “We had two severely injured casualties who arrived at 3am. It was necessary to carry out a removal of both limbs on one of them. The soldier's bleeding control device had been on for so long there was no other option.” How did he cope with traumatic operations? “I’ve been medicine for two decades. One must focus,” he remarked.

Orderlies wheeled Mykolaichuk through the passage and into an emergency vehicle. The transport was parked beneath a bush. He and the two other military members 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, the mascot, walked up to the entrance to greet the incoming patients. “We are open 24 hours a day,” the surgeon said. “The work is continuous.”