He wears sunglasses that keep his eyes in shadow. He agrees to remove them to reveal the toll of the Ukrainian conflict in his gaze. His skin is cracked, the retina speckled with blue dots, and the face bears small, darkened sores on the nose, cheeks, eyelids, and forehead. “I was hit by shrapnel while fighting in Lugansk,” explains a 24-year-old soldier who is trying to regain sight and hearing in Catalan hospitals. He is among a dozen Ukrainian veterans in Vladimir Putin’s war who were honored by Ukrainian associations formed in Barcelona last weekend. Others lost limbs, their bodies marked by scars. The psychological damage weighs heavily. A drug dealer who chose to defend his country with little formal training hints at the burden in his mind, even contemplating suicide as a possible escape from the pain.
Beyond the thousands of refugees who fled, the Spanish government provides shelter and health care to more than a hundred wounded Ukrainians in cities such as Barcelona, Valencia, Sabadell, and Madrid. The soldier arrived on June 21 after waiting three months in Ukrainian war hospitals for specialized care to restore his vision. “This is the only institution that specializes in Ukraine care,” he says. He recalls Odessa and the impossibility of staying during bombardments. On June 21, he traveled to Barcelona with his mother and eventually received a diagnosis. “The apparent damage is irreparable; I have only 20% vision, seeing things up close but with poor quality. Still, they told me perhaps my hearing could return,” he adds hopefully. Territory recently annexed by Russia hangs in the air as a backdrop to his words. “We are communicating with them; they are fine,” he adds.
Yashenko is a military man who had fought for over four years in the Donetsk region, the area Russia claimed in 2014. He remains skeptical about the situation in his homeland. “I’ve been through battles and wounds, but I can’t fit inside. I can’t believe there is still a war in Ukraine,” he says. Ruslan Chuvilo, once a civilian who volunteered for the army two days after Putin began the invasion on February 24, shares a similar resolve. “Ukraine is a free country and I want it to stay that way. That’s why I enlisted, so my children can be free to live as they choose,” he explains, now working in pharmaceutical sales across the country’s hospitals.
Today Chuvilo’s hands hold the Ukrainian flag, symbols of endurance for those who once opened fire. The 38-year-old recalls learning to use deadly tools in battle, yet he refuses to answer whether he has killed: “I won’t say, but I have seen many dead and wounded brothers. I did what I could to revive them.” His eyes glisten with emotion, and he adds, “What happens in war you will never see in a movie. Sometimes I think there is only one way out. But I am Ukrainian, and I know I can beat him.”
Miracles in the Hospital Clinic
The results are evident on a wounded man’s face. A scar runs between his cheeks and nose, and the shrapnel wounds reveal themselves as a damaged chin and other facial injuries. The metal pierced his face, coming to rest near the first vertebra, about a millimeter from the spine. He was also in Lugansk on April 6, and two months later he received treatment at the Hospital Clinic in Barcelona, where concussion care and a palate prosthesis were provided. The hospital care offers more than immediate healing; it aims to restore a sense of normal life for people who carry the weight of war.
Death looms in these lives. The soldiers describe fear as the dominant emotion on the battlefield. “There is no room for love in war. If you don’t channel the fear, you die. I learned to turn fear into duty and used every moment to push beyond what seems possible,” explains Chuvilo.
“Take care of peace”
Yashenko and Chuvilo express deep gratitude for the warm welcome from Ukrainian volunteers and the Catalan community. “I just ask the Catalans to protect their health and peace. That is the most important thing. I wish peace to prevail here,” says Yashenko. Yet he remains determined to return home. “Of course,” he nods. “I want to thank the Ukrainian volunteers who care for us and ask about us every day, and I am grateful to the Spanish government for providing three meals a day and free medical treatment in a hotel. But I ask for help for Ukraine: not only as refugees, but also for the armed forces. We fight against an army of evil, and if we do not resist, they will not stop until they reach Spain.” Chuvilo makes the same call.
Two of these veterans are among more than a hundred wounded who received care through Spain’s healthcare system. “We have arranged financing for prostheses that many use after losing legs or arms,” explains Luba Goba, coordinator of the Spanish-Ukrainian volunteer association Blagosvit. She has visited war hospitals back home and worked tirelessly to welcome them in Barcelona. The presence of the wounded also fuels solidarity through home-cooked meals and shared memories of a homeland. The main challenge now is housing. They live in hotels, but that arrangement cannot last forever, and finding permanent housing is proving difficult, Goba adds. [Citation: Blagosvit coordination and outreach notes]