I’m a Ukrainian combat surgeon – sometimes it’s hardest just waiting | World | News

Doctor Oleksandr Boronilo used to lead a quiet life in central Ukraine working as a trauma specialist – now he serves as a combat surgeon on the front line of Russia’s meat-grinder war of attrition against his homeland. The 49-year-old father of three from Kriviy Rih had been an officer in the reserves when Moscow launched its ‘Special Military Operation’ against Ukraine in February 2022. A year and a half later, he was drafted, given a couple of weeks of combat training and sent east to a field hospital, where badly mangled soldiers are regularly brought in fresh from the fight.

And the fight is often one of man against machine – artillery guns, bombers and especially drones. He said: “In the last three years, I have seen maybe two or three bullet wounds. Most of it is drones.”

But not all. His unit recently received a badly wounded soldier who’d been impaled by an anti-tank missile – intact. “Something did not go off. It went right through his hip but did not explode,” Boronilo recounted. And even more miraculously, none of the soldier’s vital organ were damaged by the missile.

Boronilo said: “I think he will fully recover. It is amazing what some people can survive. On the other hand if someone is fated to die, that’s what’s going to happen.”

According to him, mortality rates and the percentage of soldiers who lose limbs are not much different from those of the First World War. “There has always existed the concept of the ‘Golden Hour’ when the consequences of a wound will be minimum, when someone’s life or limbs can be saved,” he said.

But the reality is that wounded soldiers are often trapped under fire or pinned down by drones for hours and even days, with the same tourniquet in place. When or if they are finally delivered to a field hospital, combat doctors focus on stopping the bleeding – even if that means cutting the soldier open again, according to Boronilo.

He said: “Chest wounds are the most difficult. It is often a matter of minutes to save someone. Decisions have to be made fast.” And sometimes the decision is to take cover from enemy attack themselves.

“Our shelter is constantly coming under fire,” he said. But the most difficult part of the job, according to Boronilo, is the wait, for the next arrival of wounded, when the focus turns not only to saving lives but to making those lives as normal as possible. “The uncertainty is hard, not knowing what to expect from minute to minute, never being able to relax and always under stress.”

When he isn’t operating, Boronilo spends his time reading and getting online tutorials – often from Western specialists. What he doesn’t do, though, is spend time thinking of life after the war. “I used to spend time with friends, planning travels. But I have stopped making long term plans,” he said.

And, like many in Ukraine who continue the war effort, he does not see things getting any better. He said: “The war is becoming more and more cruel. There are no rules. They hit ambulances, use chemical weapons banned by the Geneva Convention, you cannot talk about any humanity here.” And the only way to end the war, he said, is to win it: “This agression will not stop until it is stopped – or destroyed.”