Poltava Military faces questions over toll in strike on 'elite' facility

Polina Melnyk and Ihor Tkachov were having breakfast on Tuesday when they heard the whistle of a missile fly low over their Poltava apartment block and, moments later, the sound of two explosions.

- Shaun Walker

After calculating that the target of the missile had been the military communications institute in the city in east-central Ukraine, far from the war's frontlines, they jumped in the car and set off to offer their help. Melnyk and Tkachov are volunteer medics, and have worked at army stabilisation positions close to the frontline in recent months, seeing all kinds of terrible injuries.

None of that prepared them for the sight they found on arrival at the institute, which had been hit by two missiles, reportedly just as morning roll-call was taking place. The strike would turn out to be one of the deadliest single strikes of the war, and the darkest day in a grim week for Ukraine as Russia continued its terror from the air.

Outside the institute, Tkachov saw people loading the wounded into an open-backed truck; when it was filled it set off to the hospital, leaving a trail of blood behind.

"People were screaming that we need stretchers - but there were no stretchers," recalled Tkachov in an interview two days later. On the road outside, people staggered around, bloodied and confused, while first responders carried out casualties and laid them out under a row of trees. A man missing an eyelet out piercing screams; those who had lost limbs and were bleeding out moaned more quietly.

"The people who were making the most noise weren't necessarily the ones who needed help fastest," said Melnyk. The volunteers tried to perform triage, saving as many as they could by applying tourniquets before ambulances arrived to take patients to hospitals. Many did not survive.