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Sparse foliage hide the entrance. One descending wooden passageway leads down to a brightly lit welcome zone. There is a surgery unit, equipped with beds, heart rate sensors and breathing machines. Plus cabinets stocked of medical equipment, drugs and neat piles of extra garments. Within a staff room with a laundry appliance and kettle, doctors keep an eye on a display. It shows the flight patterns of Russian spy drones as they zigzag in the air above.

Medical personnel at an underground medical center observe a monitor displaying Russian kamikaze and reconnaissance UAVs in the area.

Welcome to the nation's secret below-ground medical facility. This center began operations in the eighth month and is the second of its kind, located in eastern Ukraine not far from the frontline and the urban area of Pokrovsk in the Donetsk region. “We are six meters under the ground. This is the safest way of delivering care to our injured soldiers. It also ensures medical personnel protected,” said the facility's surgeon, Maj Oleksandr Holovashchenko.

The stabilisation point treats 30-40 casualties a each day. Cases differ widely. Some have devastating limb trauma necessitating surgical removal, or serious abdominal injuries. Some patients can walk. Almost all are the victims of Russian first-person view (FPV) drones, which release grenades with lethal precision. “90% of our patients are from FPVs. We see minimal bullet injuries. This is an era of drones and a new type of war,” the surgeon explained.

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

On one day last week, three soldiers walked with difficulty into the facility. The most lightly injured, 28-year-old one soldier, said an FPV explosion had torn a minor wound in his leg. “Conflict is horrific. The guy beside me, a fellow soldier, was fatally wounded,” he stated. “He fell down. Then the enemy forces dropped a another explosive on him.” He continued: “Everything in the settlement is destroyed. There are drones all around and bodies. Our side's and theirs.”

The soldier said his squad spent 43 days in a wooded zone close to the city, which Russia has been trying to seize for many months. Sole access to reach their location was by walking. All supplies came by drone: rations and water. Seven days after he was injured, he walked 5km (roughly three miles), requiring three hours, to where an armoured vehicle was able to evacuate him. At the clinic, a medic assessed his vital signs. Following care, a nurse gave him fresh civilian clothes: a shirt and a set of light-colored jeans.

Artem Dvorskiy, 28, said a first-person view drone caused a minor injury in his leg.

Another patient, 38-year-old Pavlo Filipchuk, recounted a UAV explosion had left him with concussion. “My position was in a dugout. It suddenly went dark. I lost sensation anything or any sound,” he said. “I believe I was fortunate to survive. My cousin has been killed. There are ongoing detonations.” A construction worker employed in a neighboring country, he noted he had come back to his homeland and volunteered to serve days before the Russian leader's full-scale invasion in early 2022.

A third soldier, a serviceman, had been struck in the upper body. He expressed pain as medical staff placed him on a medical cot, took off a stained bandage and cleaned his recent injury from fragments. Wrapped in a thermal sheet, he used a cellphone to ring his sister. “A piece of artillery hit me. It was a deflected projectile. I’m OK,” he informed her. What comes next for him? “To recover. This may require a several months. Subsequently, to return to my military group. Someone must defend our country,” he said.

Medical staff treat Taras Mykolaichuk, who was hit in the back by a piece of mortar.

Since 2022, enemy forces has repeatedly targeted hospitals, clinics, obstetric units and ambulances. According to international monitors, over two hundred medical personnel have been killed in almost two thousand assaults. This subterranean hospital is built from four reinforced shelters, with wooden supports, soil and sand laid on top reaching ground level. It can withstand direct hits from large-caliber artillery shells and even multiple eight-kilogram TNT charges released by aerial means.

A major industrial group, which funded the building, intends to build 20 units in all. The head of the nation's security agency and former defence minister, the official, said they would be “critically important for saving the survival of our armed forces and assisting troops on the frontline.” The organization referred to the project as the “largest-scale and demanding” it had implemented since the enemy's invasion.

One of the centre’s operating theatres.

Holovashchenko, explained certain wounded personnel had to wait many hours or even days before they could be transported because of the danger of air assaults. “Our facility received two severely injured patients who came at 3am. It was necessary to carry out a removal of both limbs on one of them. His tourniquet had been on for such an extended period there was no alternative.” How did he cope with severe surgeries? “I’ve been medicine for 20 years. You have to concentrate,” he said.

Orderlies wheeled Mykolaichuk up the passage and into an ambulance. The vehicle was parked under a bush. The patient and the other soldiers were transferred to the urban center of a major city for additional medical care. The subterranean medical team paused for rest. The hospital’s orange feline, Vasilevs, walked toward the entrance to greet the incoming patients. “We are active 24 hours a day,” Holovashchenko said. “The work is continuous.”