I first met Tymofii as a fellow Ukrainian, someone whose memories of Kyiv mirror my own. Our paths, however, led us to Belgium under very different circumstances. Tymofii arrived here in 2023, after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine had already been raging for more than a year.
Tymofii Bespalov is one of 5,000 Ukrainian patients transferred to hospitals in 22 countries through the European Union’s medical evacuation programme conducted under the EU Civil Protection Mechanism (UCPM).
As Ukraine enters it’s 5th year since the start of the full-scale invasion, he is here – alive, determined, and quietly rebuilding a life shattered by war. His story is not one of heroics in the traditional sense, but of survival, resilience, and the extraordinary courage it takes to endure what most of us cannot imagine.
From childhood, Tymofii describes himself as ‘like everyone else.’ Yet war transformed that ordinariness into something very different: rotations in trenches, missions across dangerous terrain, and the constant awareness that a single step could end everything.
And still, he survives.
In Brussels – a city far from the echoes of explosions – he is trying to reclaim a sense of normal life, while carrying the weight of Kyiv, the friends who remain there, and a homeland he longs to see whole again.
From draft notice to battlefield
Tymofii’s path to the front lines was shaped by duty and curiosity. He joined the military in 2017, and when full-scale war erupted, he was already part of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. His decision was practical: when the draft came, he wanted to serve in military medicine, to understand what it meant to heal in the midst of war.
His unit’s work was often away from the immediate line of fire, stationed at distant points for planning and logistical support. Yet even these rotations were fraught with danger.
‘Essentially, this is the scariest job.’ Tymofii confides in me.‘When you are in a trench, something is flying at you, and you cannot escape. You can only hope that the dugout will hold.’
The fear is not just in the explosion, but in the uncertainty – the suddenness, the invisibility of what could kill you. ‘You simply know that something may come flying at any moment. Sometimes you will not even hear it or see it. I think that is the scariest part,’ he adds.
As a combat medic, Tymofii carried the same responsibilities as any infantryman, while also dedicating himself to saving lives – carrying stretchers, medical kits, evacuating and stabilising the wounded. Every decision could mean life or death, not only for him but for those he was there to protect.
The night that changed everything
In June, it was during one of these routine operations, that Tymofii’s life changed in an instant.
Crossing a river under the cover of night, he stepped on a mine.
The explosion threw him to the ground, and he immediately realised the severity: an anti-personnel mine had taken one of his feet. His fingers were concussed, unresponsive, making it impossible to apply a tourniquet. Screaming was not an option – the “grey zone” meant that any sound could bring immediate enemy fire.
He lay on the ground, unable to move, fully aware of how close death had come. A comrade broke protocol and ran to him, dragging him to safety.
‘If he hadn’t helped, I wouldn’t be here,’ Tymofii explains. By the time he was evacuated, he had lost almost 2 litres of blood.
The evacuation itself was perilous. The first medevac hit an anti-tank mine, killing one of the rescuers instantly. Vehicles got stuck in the mud, enemy drones hovered nearby, artillery shells fell dangerously close. Yet somehow, against all odds, Tymofii was carried across a ploughed field for 3 kilometres to a waiting vehicle. Hours passed before he reached safety, and even then, his journey to survival was only beginning.
A second chance in Belgium
Tymofii was transferred across borders, first to a hospital deep in Ukraine’s rear in Vinnytsia. There, when doctors realised they did not have the resources needed to save his 2nd leg, they proposed sending him abroad for specialised treatment. The evacuation continued, Tymofii was taken by ambulance across the border to Poland.
These transfers are coordinated through a dedicated medical evacuation hub established in September 2022 in Rzeszów, Poland with the support of the EU, Poland and the Polish Centre for International Aid (PCPM). Patients arriving from Ukraine can receive initial treatment there before being flown to hospitals across Europe.
The 1st medical evacuation of this kind during the full-scale war in Ukraine took place on 13 March 2022, when 3 chronically ill Ukrainian children and their relatives were transferred from Poland to Italy for treatment.
From Rzeszów, Tymofii was finally flown on a medical aircraft bound for Belgium through the European Commission’s medical evacuation programme. In the city of Roeselare, he received care that, he says, would not have been possible in Ukraine.
At first, he could move only in a wheelchair, his injured leg stabilised by an Ilizarov apparatus. Rehabilitation began slowly, nearly 6 months after his injury. For half a year he had not put weight on his right leg at all. Even standing felt unfamiliar.
‘I spent 6 months either in a wheelchair or in bed,’ Tymofii recalls. ‘So, in a way, I was learning to walk again almost from scratch.’
For Tymofii, this system meant access to life-saving expertise. Throughout his recovery, he emphasises the people who made his survival possible: the brothers-in-arms who risked their lives to rescue him, the EU and Belgian medical teams who coordinated his transfer, and the surgeons who performed complex procedures – including a rare muscle and vascular flap that ultimately saved his exposed bone.
‘The fact that I still have my second leg is definitely thanks to the efforts of the EU, the European Commission, and this entire process,’ Tymofii says, gratitude clear in every word.
Life beyond the war zone
Tymofii lives a life that feels ordinary, almost mundane. He has completed IT courses, experiments with servers, and gradually steps toward entering the job market. Physical labour remains difficult due to his prosthetic, but he persists. Life in Belgium is quiet: grocery runs, study sessions, occasional meetings with friends. Nothing extraordinary – yet, for someone who has seen death so closely, ordinary is a blessing.
‘I think the one dream that unites all Ukrainians,’ Tymofii says softly, ‘is simply for the war to stop. To have peace, and to rebuild calm lives.’
A testament to courage and solidarity
Tymofii’s story is not one of headlines or heroics. It is a story of survival, of comradeship, of resilience in the face of relentless danger. It is about humanity carried across battlefields, saved by hands willing to risk everything, and restored by those committed to care.
Even in the darkest moments of war, he found the light of others’ courage. And in Brussels, amid ordinary days and quiet routines, Tymofii carries that light with him, a living testament to what it means to endure, to rebuild, and to hope.
