Over 20,000 Ukrainian Amputees Confront Unprecedented Trauma Comparable to WWI

A gathering of soldiers forms a small band outside, engaging in exchanges of cigarettes and war stories. These narratives, at times nonchalant and occasionally laden with a touch of edginess, reflect the unreliable nature of their recollections, tainted by the final day they spent in combat – the day warfare deprived them of their limbs.

Among them, some possess vivid memories of the instant they fell victim to anti-tank mines, aerial bombs, missiles, or shells. Others, however, grapple with conspicuous gaps in their recollections, substantial chasms in their memory.

Vitaliy Bilyak’s slender physique narrates a tale of scars, culminating in an amputation just above his knee. During his six-week-long slumber, Bilyak underwent over ten surgeries, spanning his jaw, hand, and heel, all aimed at recuperating from the injuries he incurred on April 22. On that fateful day, he drove over a pair of anti-tank mines.

In his words, “When I awoke, it felt akin to being reborn and reemerging from the realm beyond life.” Bilyak, who has only commenced his journey towards rehabilitation, remains uncertain about the timing of his prosthesis fitting, a process bespoke to each patient.

Ukraine confronts a future marked by the presence of well over 20,000 amputees, a significant portion of whom are soldiers burdened not just with physical but also psychological trauma from their frontline experiences. The scale of this situation remains unparalleled in Europe since World War I and unmatched in the United States since the Civil War.

Mykhailo Yurchuk, a paratrooper, sustained wounds during the war’s initial weeks near the city of Izium. His fellow comrades transported him to safety, placing him on a stretcher and covering a considerable distance on foot. During those agonizing moments, Yurchuk’s singular focus was on ending his life with a grenade. A medic stood unwaveringly by his side, holding his hand throughout, as he gradually succumbed to unconsciousness.

Upon regaining consciousness in an intensive care unit, Yurchuk found the medic still by his side. His gratitude flowed forth, “Thank you for holding my hand,” to which the medic retorted, “Well, I feared you might pull the pin.” Yurchuk lost his left arm below the elbow and his right leg above the knee.

Over the ensuing 18 months, Yurchuk reclaimed his equilibrium, both mentally and physically. His journey led him to encounter the woman who would become his wife at a rehabilitation hospital, where she served as a volunteer. Today, he cradles their infant daughter and strolls with her devoid of hesitation. His new hand and leg exhibit a stark black hue.

Yurchuk has evolved into the primary source of inspiration for new arrivals from the front lines. He mentors and motivates them through their healing process, guiding them as they adapt to their new realities and learn to navigate life with their newfound disabilities. This connection, profound and invaluable, necessitates replication throughout Ukraine, both formally and informally, as thousands grapple with the aftermath of amputations.

Dr. Emily Mayhew, a medical historian specializing in blast injuries at Imperial College, elucidates the intricate adjustments that these amputees face: “Their entire locomotion system must be recalibrated. Weight distribution undergoes a complete realignment. Accomplishing this complex adaptation necessitates the presence of another human being.”

Unfortunately, Ukraine currently lacks an adequate number of prosthetic specialists to cater to the escalating demand. Olha Rudneva, the head of the Superhumans center for rehabilitating Ukrainian military amputees, notes that prior to the war, only five individuals across Ukraine possessed formal rehabilitation training for individuals with arm or hand amputations. These circumstances, although relatively uncommon due to diabetes or other illnesses, are now becoming a grim reality for a growing number of individuals.

Rudneva’s estimate of 20,000 Ukrainians undergoing at least one amputation since the war’s commencement underscores the gravity of the situation. Although the government does not disclose the exact count of military personnel affected, blast injuries are predominant in a conflict characterized by an extensive frontline.

Rehabilitation centers like Unbroken and Superhumans provide prosthetics to Ukrainian soldiers with the support of donor countries, charitable organizations, and private Ukrainian enterprises. Rudneva underscores the willingness of certain donors to fund humanitarian projects even when military aid remains elusive.

Some of the men undergoing rehabilitation nurse a sense of longing for their former involvement in the war, including figures like Yurchuk and Valentyn Lytvynchuk.

Lytvynchuk, a former battalion commander, draws strength from his family, particularly his 4-year-old daughter, who etched a unicorn onto his prosthetic leg. In a recent visit to a military training ground, he confronted the realities of his physical limitations.

“I came to realize its impracticality. I can leap into a trench, but extricating myself requires four-wheel drive. And my ‘fast’ movement could be outpaced by a child,” he reflects. A wry humor emerges, “Furthermore, the prosthesis has a propensity to disengage.”

For many amputees, grappling with pain stands as the most arduous facet – pain arising from the prosthesis, pain stemming from the initial injury, and pain perpetuated by the lingering shockwave effects of the explosion. Dr. Mayhew, having engaged with hundreds of military amputees, sheds light on the intricate interplay between physical and psychological distress. The convergence of PTSD, blast injuries, and pain yields a complex and multifaceted challenge.

For those severely affected, the journey of rehabilitation might outlast the very war itself.

Cosmetic surgeries play an indispensable role in fostering soldiers’ comfort within society. Oftentimes, these individuals are so disfigured that they feel their appearance defines their identity in the eyes of others.

As Dr. Natalia Komashko, a facial surgeon, emphasizes, “We don’t have the luxury of time, not a year or two. Urgency demands that we approach this as though the deadline was yesterday.”

Bilyak, the soldier who braved anti-tank mines, occasionally still finds himself ensnared by dreams of battle. In his words, “I lie alone in the ward, on the bed, and unfamiliar faces surround me. I recognize them as Russians, and they unleash a volley of point-blank gunfire from pistols and rifles.” A defiant gesture emerges, “As they grow agitated, bullets deplete, and I remain unscathed, I extend them the middle finger and revel in laughter.”

Contributions to this report: Illia Novikov in Kyiv, Ukraine; Volodymyr Yurchuk in Lviv, Ukraine; Lori Hinnant in Paris

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Amputee Rehabilitation

More about Amputee Rehabilitation

• Amputee Rehabilitation Centers in Ukraine
• Superhumans: Supporting Ukrainian Military Amputees
• Understanding Blast Injuries
• Psychological Effects of Amputations
• Rehabilitation Challenges in War-Affected Areas
• History of Amputee Rehabilitation
• Supporting Amputees: Charitable Organizations