Natalia Tarasyuk. MOAS paramedic in Ukraine shares her story and recalls the attack on our base that occurred on 31st August 2024.
Having worked with the MOAS team for two and a half years, I can confidently say that the best of the best people serve here—are professionals who are fully committed to saving lives and sometimes even doing the impossible to preserve the health of war victims. Yes, we are different – with different habits, preferences, but we gathered at the forefront of the medical front from all corners of our country for a common goal. Of course, working on the front lines, each of us assesses and understands the risks and is aware of the danger because everyone knows that the military and medics on the front lines are desirable targets for the enemy. Indeed, some people cannot control their emotions and overcome fear. However, such people do not work in our team; MOAS are only strong-willed, dedicated, and indomitable professionals who, despite everything, will fight for their lives to the last, confidently walking towards victory.
On the night of August 30-31, a rocket attack was carried out at the location of a large warehouse of our team.
Our crew went to the call the night before. Still, due to the severe condition of the wounded, it was decided to leave the patient in the local hospital for additional stabilisation. We returned to the base around 1:00 a.m. We had time to rest a little and were ready for the next call; it was our brigade’s last working hours before the rotation, but we did not wait for the call. At 03:00 in the morning, massive shelling of the city began and one of the rockets hit near our building. Since we are in a war zone, explosions and landings are not news for us, so the first blow, which according to the sound happened somewhere far away, was not too exciting. Nevertheless, everyone woke up and began to gather for shelter. But they didn’t have time… In a matter of seconds, they hit us. As a result of the attack, the building was destroyed. We could not see anything in front of us; we only heard each other’s voices, and we tried to understand whether everyone at the location had survived. Simultaneously, after the assessment of the situation, everyone moved towards the bomb shelter.
We are trained to always keep our phone and documents with us for such cases. So, without thinking, we grabbed the essentials and ran. In such moments, you don’t evaluate whether you are capable; you just do… The only thoughts that were there were worries and anxiety for the team. In terms of destruction, the greatest fear is the fear of human loss. You think: if only everyone were alive. In the first seconds, it seemed to me that we might not count many. Going down to the basement, it was clear that only two were missing – my crew doctor Oleksiy Silman and paramedic Artem Bondarenko. Someone saw that their room was on fire. They said that it was impossible to reach them. But fortunately, the boys are alive and unharmed. As it turned out later, Oleksiy was carried out of the room by a shock wave, which saved his life because it was that side of the building that suffered the most destruction and was engulfed in flames. Everything burned down there: the material and technical support of the MOAS was destroyed, the personal belongings and documents of the personnel, and even the batteries were flooded.
But, thank God, everyone survived!
Our location, of course, was adequately prepared for such cases. Necessary medicines and medical supplies were stored in the shelter, which allowed emergency aid to be provided to the injured immediately. Serhiy Golda suffered the most significant injuries, having received a closed craniocerebral injury and cut wounds to the head and neck. Over time, it became dangerous to be in the shelter as well – there was a risk of it being smoky. We left the basement as a team, taking blankets with us, because not everyone had time to get dressed.
About the psychological and emotional state after the experience:
Looking back, we are all still needed for something. The scale of destruction suggests that the consequences could have been different. Doctors are superstitious people, and I am no exception. The day before the shelling, I woke up to something rustling in the room. Looking back, I saw a wounded pigeon on the floor, staring straight into my eyes. When I tried to help the bird, it flew onto my bed and then, gathering itself with effort, flew out the window. I thought it was some good news, but my doctor, after hearing the story, said that it was probably bad news. Impressed, I called my relatives to ensure they were all right. I am still determining who that dove was – a messenger, a messenger or a guardian angel. But one thing is sure – we were all born in shirts.
The morning after the extraordinary event, I received so many calls – it was like a birthday greeting. And so it is – I consider that day to be my second birthday.
Despite everything we have experienced, I did not have a single thought to quit my work on the medical front and leave MOAS. Today, I cannot imagine my life without our rescue work and the people who have become my second family. Although my relatives are waiting for me at home, I am happy to go on vacation, but at the moment, I do not see myself in civilian life.
MOAS is an addiction to me, to some extent.
In addition, how can I leave what I started if I promised my son to return with Victory 2.5 years ago? He believes in me, and this gives me strength and serves as a powerful support. I cannot allow him to doubt either me or the justice of the actions of Ukrainians who stand for freedom. My son is 11 years old, but at his age, he knows what war is and its devastating consequences. He sees the destruction, the despair and the tears of people. We have to change that.
Those who defend the borders today are also someone’s sons and fathers. All of them have to return home alive.
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