At the Front: Day 3 and Day 4
It is the continuation of Megan M.’s story about her volunteering in the east of Ukraine with the Awangarda team. Angels for Ukraine’s Medical Evacuation project supports the evacuation of civilians and wounded soldiers from territories where you just can’t call an ambulance.
Important notice: below the article, you will see the photo that might be disturbing to some readers.
Day 3: The Base
It’s our second shift at the Base.
Explosions here are constant, and today, we are first in line to be dispatched.
The building shakes from another explosion. It’s 1521. Now something is flying by… an explosion rings out not far away. It shakes the building again. I’m worried. I’ve been grinding my teeth, and my leg often shakes, riddled with anxiety. I look around to see the burnt-out faces of others who no longer flinch at the sound of explosions. It’s 1554. Three more explosions. Another two explosions and something else is flying by. It’s 1604.
We get dispatched at nightfall, make a successful transport, and then return back to the Base. Just in time for more explosions. We distract ourselves by playing Uno. But not just regular Uno, this is Donbas Uno, with different rules I picked up from my friend Tabita. While playing, five or six more explosions ring out; one right after another.
More explosions. It’s 2348. And again. 2355. They tell us we need to try and rest. Tomorrow we will go to the stabilization point and there is a lot of work to do there. We will need our rest.
Day 4: Stabilization Point
We arrive at the stabilization point. It’s a basement that’s dimly lit and cold, but well insulated. Here, there is a make-shift emergency room where we’ll work. There’s even a kitchen with a communal bucket of soup that’s dropped off every 24 hours at 0900. I’m hungry, but I need to space out my meals. Food is scarce here.
Patients consistently come in throughout the night. it’s mostly all the same types of patients – shrapnel injuries, arterial bleeds, gapping wounds etc… Others are lucky and escape with minor injuries. Either way, we stay attentive and tend to every patient that comes through our doors.
In between patients we play Uno. It keeps the mood light. More people join in. Soon we have seven or eight people playing. Here, we don’t hear the war outside. No sirens, no rockets, and no explosions. We say “Це любов” (this is love) after playing a draw 4 and then giggle. I even got a nickname based on my ability to shuffle cards well: “шулер”.
We’re quickly reminded of the war when patients come in with chunks of flesh missing and laying in a pile of their own blood. Their faces are often pale as if their soul has left their body. Many soldiers scream in pain. Others don’t flinch as we work; they can’t feel anything because the tourniquet has been applied for too long. Some have waited weeks, or even months for evacuation to the stabilization point. They are pinned down at the front and unable to safely evacuate. It means many soldiers unnecessarily lose their limbs. However, when patients come in, we work effectively and efficiently.
The fast-paced and unstable nature of war does not allow time to process the atrocities caused by Russia. Instead, we keep our heads down and do anything we can to help the wounded.
The photos that might be disturbing for some of our readers.
From Angels for Ukraine Fundraising Team:
Our volunteer teams risk their lives to transport wounded civilians and soldiers to safety.
Please donate now through our secure payment system on the donation page to help us continue this vital work. Every contribution matters.
Thank you for standing with Ukraine!
