‘Truly humbling’: inside the centre where UK medics are helping Ukrainian amputees | Ukraine
A.At a specialist treatment center in Ukraine, Vladislav shows a video on his phone of how he lost his left leg, while other amputees play volleyball nearby. Footage of a drone rapidly approaching a car and stopping in the open behind Vladislav was found on a Russian military social media channel.
The 31-year-old, who was an arbitration lawyer before Russia launched its full-scale invasion in 2022, makes a double-whistle sound to describe the drone’s ominous progress. “It’s me,” he says, pointing to the video captured by a fiber-optic drone that follows him with terrifying ease as the vehicle slows down to a curve. The screen then goes blank.
While Vladislav was driving between positions near Lyman in northeastern Ukraine on August 21, his life changed forever. The “bang in the left ear” explosion threw him and the driver to the ground. Since he was still conscious, he could see that the injury to his left leg was very serious. But this was not his immediate priority.
“Honestly, I just checked my crotch, is everything okay?” he says, grinning. The check came back positive, and at that moment, the wounded soldier said he thought life was worth living. “Only after that did I turn my tourniquet.” This cut off blood flow to his left leg, giving him the best chance of survival.
The break was short-lived. After being rescued, Vladislav soon began to lose consciousness. “I don’t know if this is real or just a common innuendo, but in my memory, I saw a white tunnel with light at the end.” But this wasn’t the end. “My comrade fell on my injured leg with his elbow, and I opened my eyes with every curse I knew.”
Every month, dozens of seriously injured Ukrainians who, like Vladislav, have or need to undergo amputation come to this specialized treatment center. No one says exactly how many people have been treated here, but rough estimates across Ukraine place the total number of amputees in the tens of thousands.
There are a small number of British military personnel, including doctors, physiotherapists and occupational therapists from the UK’s defense medical services, who are part of Project Renovator, providing assistance, support and advice to Ukrainian personnel at the centre. The Guardian observed some of their work during the one-day visit, including sessions in which British practitioners discussed the use of temporary prosthetics with Ukrainian colleagues.
“The numbers here are really humbling,” says Mike, a British rehabilitation counselor and army lieutenant colonel who is part of the UK team’s relief team. Mike worked in Afghanistan, where he served with the British army until 2014, and says professionals like himself can contribute to “the understanding of complex amputee rehabilitation” and “help his patients transition to new legs more quickly”.
He wants to emphasize that Britain’s presence works both ways, meaning there are opportunities for him and his colleagues to learn. Thanks to an innovative combination of surgery, electrical stimulation and rehabilitation, Ukrainians “manage to heal nerve injuries faster than I’ve ever seen before,” he says.
Britain has only minimally acknowledged a wider military presence in Ukraine, beyond personnel at its embassy in Kiev. Security around the medical team remains tight and only Mike can be identified.
Defense secretary John Healey praised their work, saying: “I’m proud that the UK is stepping up to ensure injured Ukrainian soldiers receive the best possible treatment.” He said their goal was to work with Ukrainian teams to “provide care and rehabilitation” and that this effort should continue long after the war eventually ends.
A wide variety of classes are available, and family and friends are welcome to visit unless the staff believes it would benefit the individual’s recovery. Part of the approach, according to Mike, is to have “psychologically aware clinicians” who can detect when patients are experiencing mental issues. But as volleyball shows, an important part is being part of a group so the injured can motivate each other.
Vladislav’s situation is one of the simpler ones. He hopes to have his final prosthetic leg ready soon and to be discharged early this year. He says his mental state is strong, but at one point after two or four weeks when he’s on his own he admits, “I cried a lot.” “It was like a divorce” until he finally thought: “Let it be.”
What helped, the former lawyer says, was having his family nearby, including his young son, Adam. However, he says: “I did not tell my wife about my injury for about a month and a half because she was pregnant.” She told him what happened two weeks after Adam was born, but admits she was “suspecting something” by then.
Oleksandr, a 48-year-old former fitness teacher and swimming instructor, had both of his legs amputated below the knee after a cannonball hit him near him on October 18, 2024. After arriving at the treatment centre, it became clear that a number of other surgeries were required. One of these was to stabilize his infected wound; A metal support was then attached to the bone to accommodate the prosthesis.
It was a long and grueling treatment, including a month in intensive care, and at one point Oleksandr burst into tears at the thought of it. “At first it was difficult for me to sit in the wheelchair. I was sweating immediately,” he says. But gradually, going to the gym with rehabbers paid off, and at one point, as her exercise slowly improved, “I knew then I was going to make it,” she says.
There is a brightness and purpose in his eyes now, but the future is uncertain. He wants to leave this year when his legs are ready. “Hopefully I can go back to work as a fitness instructor,” he says. “But I don’t know. I just need to figure out what my abilities will be on the prosthetics, how long I can walk. Once I learn to walk, I’ll know what my abilities are.”
