Inside a rehabilitation center in central Kyiv, young soldiers who have lost limbs in battle prepare for a different kind of fight. They are training to use some of the world’s most advanced bionic technologies — an innovation borne out of necessity in a nation shattered by war.
Over the past three years, as many as 100,000 Ukrainians have lost limbs in combat. The staggering toll has turned Ukraine into an epicenter for groundbreaking advancements in prosthetic technology. Surgeons and experts from around the globe now descend on Kyiv, offering their skills to aid the wounded and test cutting-edge bionic solutions.
Among the patients is 35-year-old Serhiy Danilets, an infantry sniper whose life changed when a tank shell exploded near him in eastern Ukraine. The blast killed two of his comrades and left his arm shattered beyond repair. Surgeons were forced to amputate everything below his shoulder — a severe case that would traditionally limit prosthetic options. However, Serhiy’s story took a different path at Kyiv’s Tytanovi Rehab clinic.
He has learned to control a bionic hand made by the Swedish biomedical company Integrum. Serhiy uses sensors that interpret micro-flexions in his chest muscles. Each movement — from gripping objects to more intricate gestures—requires mental and physical training.
Anton Ivantsiv, a triple amputee and Serhiy’s friend, explained the science behind the technology.
“He has a very short amputation,” Anton said, pointing to the sensors that capture Serhiy’s muscle signals and transmit commands to the prosthetic.
For Serhiy, the breakthrough means independence — and a future where he can once again hold a weapon and teach survival skills to new recruits.
Bohdan Kovbasyuk, another patient at the center, has a different focus. After losing his leg in a rocket attack during a reconnaissance mission, the 28-year-old soldier faced an uphill battle. Despite enduring 52 surgeries, Bohdan is determined to reclaim his mobility.
“I can already stand,” he said, “In Ukraine, there is almost zero accommodation for wheelchairs, and now I can get to almost any place.”
Bohdan plans to marry his fiancée, Daryna, in a few days. Though he’ll use a wheelchair to navigate the ceremony, he hopes wedding guests will contribute to his online fundraising for a permanent prosthetic le — a cost of $90,000, half of which he must raise himself.
Some wounded soldiers travel 5,000 miles to Minneapolis, where the Ukrainian-American chief medical officer of the Protez Foundation, Yakov Gradiner, and his team have outfitted more than 200 soldiers with customized prosthetics.
“Nobody knew before how vast the need would be,” Gradiner said. “We understand that we cannot take everybody.”
The Esper Hand, a state-of-the-art bionic limb developed by a Kyiv startup, represents the next frontier. Using AI, the prosthetic adapts to users’ muscle signals, predicting the strength needed for various tasks. Roma, a 29-year-old soldier fitted with the Esper Hand, demonstrates its potential. Once a sniper, he is now remapping his brain to control the arm’s complex functions.
“When I go to a rock concert, I’ll do this,” Roma joked, using his prosthetic to flash the universal rock-and-roll hand sign.
Despite his progress, Roma’s journey underscores the challenges amputees face. After losing his arm in a drone attack, Roma walked four miles to an evacuation point with a tourniquet on his arm for five hours.
“I had adrenaline,” he said. “And I thought of my mom. She would get mad if I didn’t make it home.”
Ukraine’s amputees has become a passion project for one of the leading orthopedic doctors in the world: Rickard Brånemark, the founder and owner of the bionics maker, Integrum.
The Swedish surgeon, who owns has made multiple journeys to Kyiv for what he calls “Mission Impossible” operations, enabling bionic limbs for those with amputations so extreme they once would be unable to wear an advanced prosthetic — until now. He is also training Ukrainian doctors to perform the procedures themselves.
In November, at an annual conference of global leaders in osseointegration —the technical term for prosthetic medicine—Brånemark brought a powerful message from Ukraine’s amputees: the urgent need for scientific breakthroughs.
The most pressing problem Brånemark is trying to solve is how to improve the signals picked up by sensors placed on the skin above muscles to control the bionics.
“If you sweat or use it for long periods, or when you do movements, the skin might move and you will not pick up the right signal,” he explains. To combat this, his team is developing implanted electrodes to directly capture signals
While implanting sensors is a promising possibility, it remains experimental. “We’re not there yet,” Brånemark says. “But the way this field has moved forward in the last ten years, I think it’s more than ever. So it’s a big shift now.”
Brånemark is also acutely aware of the ethical considerations involved in experimental work with desperate patients.
“The question is, can we use knowledge from their treatment to further advance for others?” he reflects. “That’s the problem.”
Despite the challenges, Brånemark continues traveling to Ukraine, training doctors to treat victims with the most extreme amputations. His efforts have changed lives—like those of Bohdan and Serhiy—and earned him the honorary title of Military Surgeon of Ukraine. “I think about it every day,” he says, recalling the emotional impact of his visits. “I was crying every time on the plane home.”
The resilience of these soldiers is perhaps best illustrated by their ability to find joy amidst hardship. At Bohdan’s wedding in October, his best man Serhiy has programmed his bionic hand to hold the rings.
“This is probably the most important event in my life,” Bohdan said, smiling.
Ukraine’s bionic revolution offers more than technological innovation — it’s allowing amputees like Serhiy, Bohdan, and Roma to reclaim their independence. A few weeks after Bohdan’s wedding, Serhiy returned to his unit to teach the newly arrived “how to survive and how to make sure they don't get killed so quickly.”
