Surviving a double Tap: Rescuer Pavlo Petrov and the new norm of repeat strikes in Kyiv
During a recent mass missile-and-drone attack on Kyiv in the early hours of 6 June, a Russian kamikaze drone ignited a large fire in buildings on Vadym Hetman Street near Shuliavska metro station, a busy transit hub on the capital’s Red Line just west of the city center. As firefighters, rescuers and the DSNS press team worked the scene, a deliberate “double tap” drone strike — now a grim new norm in Kyiv — hit the same spot. With U.S. deliveries of air-defence munitions growing uncertain, such follow-on strikes threaten to become even more frequent and deadlier.
Press officer Pavlo Petrov, who was standing in the open near the buildings, suffered multiple burns, shrapnel wounds and a ruptured eardrum. His colleague Inna Zhelchyk was gravely injured with a through-and-through fragment wound to the shoulder, a triple shoulder fracture, third-degree burns and the amputation of a thumb. The press-team driver, Andrii Bilous, was the most seriously hurt and remains in a coma. Three firefighters — Pavlo Yezhor, Danylo Skadin and Andrii Remennyi — were killed.
Speaking to Frontliner, Petrov recounts how he survived and offers advice for anyone documenting the war.
Who is Pavlo Petrov?
Petrov has served with the State Emergency Service of Ukraine since 2012 and joined its press office in 2016. Trained in civil protection, he also honed his skills as a photographer, which led him into the information unit
He spent his first years in Luhansk region and moved to Kyiv in 2020 to create photo and video materials for the DSNS. After Russia’s full-scale invasion on Feb. 24, 2022, he stayed in the capital. For three months he and colleague Inna Zhelchyk lived and worked inside the press-office building: Pavlo handled photo-video documentation; Inna managed information response.
He covered Kyiv’s defense and the aftermath of strikes in Kyiv, Borodianka, Bucha and many other towns. In summer 2022 he was transferred to headquarters, reporting from across the country — Bakhmut, Kherson, Uman, Kharkiv region, Donetsk region, Zaporizhzhia and Odesa. In 2024 he became head of the Kyiv city DSNS press service.
In the summer of 2022, Pavlo was transferred to the central office, where he began covering the work of the State Emergency Service throughout the country: Bakhmut, Kherson, Uman, Kharkiv, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia, Odesa, and Kherson. He worked repeatedly on the front lines and in cities near the front. In 2024, Pavlo was appointed head of the press service of the State Emergency Service in Kyiv.
Only two weeks after the blast could Petrov speak with Frontliner. Below is his firsthand account. (A video shows the moment of the explosion.)
“That evening we’d already heard warnings of a possible mass strike, so I stayed at the office. Around 1 a.m. a missile hit an apartment block. I told Inna, ‘Let’s go.’ We filmed the damage. We wanted to drive to another location but new strikes forced us back to the office.”
“The city kept taking hits, but not residential. About 3:30 a.m. we headed to a big fire near Shuliavska metro — the media needed coordination.”
“Inside, I shot a few frames and video, sent them to our ops team and said to Inna, ‘Let’s get out — it’s dangerous.’ The structure was burning hard.”
“Outside, our car was parked facing Beresteiskyi Avenue so we could bolt if needed, and we’d picked a shelter — an underpass 10 meters away; the car was 10 meters the other way.”
“The last thing I remember is telling Inna, ‘Send the footage,’ and walking off to shoot more. Then … there was no sound. It felt like something scooped me up and hurled me. I didn’t hear the explosion — I was just flying. My ears rang.”
“Am I dead?”
“I’d been standing with my left side toward the blast and I can barely hear with that ear now — the eardrum’s gone. I heard a pure, piercing ring. And then — flight.”
“People say time slows; it doesn’t. Your brain just works faster. I had several thoughts at once: ‘Am I dead? Am I dying now? Fuck, what a stupid way to die.’ Then, ‘What the hell exploded like that?’And that’s it, I fell.”
“I landed. One hand rested on something scalding — that burn is still healing on its own because burn wounds don’t get stitched up. I thought, ‘I have to crawl away before something else hits.’ I crawled over bricks and rebar through black smoke. I worried rubble had trapped me and I wouldn’t know which way to crawl, so I stood up.”
“My legs were intact; nothing seemed to hurt. I raised my arms (now I can’t fully straighten them — burned skin tightened) and saw fingers, camera, bag — everything in place. So I went to look for Inna, who’d been nearby.”
“I was afraid she was dead.”
“I walked maybe three meters and found her. She was lying face down. At first, I froze. I was afraid to approach her. I was terrified that she was dead. I didn’t want to see her dead. I feared that if I approached her, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. Do you understand? But I couldn’t just leave her there.”
“I approached her. I leaned over, and she didn’t even move. She was lying face down in her armor, without her helmet, which had been torn off her. I asked, ‘Are you okay? Can you hear me?’ And she replied, ‘I can’t feel my legs.’ Then I realized she was alive and conscious. I grabbed her by the strap on her body armor and pulled her. I had a large laceration on my left arm, and I knew I couldn’t physically lift her. So I decided to drag her. I dragged her about 10 meters away from there. Basically, it was clear there, there was nothing on the asphalt.”
“In shock, I asked her, ‘Listen, where’s your phone?” Mine was in my hand at the moment of the explosion… It was blown away.”
“And she said to me, ‘I don’t feel anything.’”
“I needed to call an ambulance. So I ran to find one.”
“I came back to her, and there were already one or two people with her. I took out my tourniquet and said, ‘Listen, let’s put this on her, she needs it.’”
“They said, ‘Let’s take her to a safe place and do it there.’ We picked her up and carried her to an underground passageway, where we laid her down.”
“I was in shock after the explosion, and there’s a moment in the video when I say to her, ‘Don’t go anywhere’ (laughs). And I run upstairs to find an ambulance. I shouted for a long time, “Where are the ambulances, damn it?! Let me call an ambulance! She needs to be taken away!’”
“They told me, ‘We’ve called them. Wait.’”
“This is definitely not the end”
“I came back. They were putting tourniquets on Inna. She was screaming very loudly. One of her arms was torn apart, the other had a compound fracture. They stopped the bleeding. They checked her over and said there didn’t seem to be any other bleeding. And she just lay there waiting. A firefighter was standing next to her, giving her water. They wanted to cut off her body armor, but I said, ‘Stop. I know how to take it off.’”
“They took it off carefully, because I thought, ‘F*ck, it’s expensive, who’s going to pay for those cut straps?’” (laughs).
“They put a tourniquet on me too, but it slipped off. The bleeding continued. From here — here, where the scar, and from here (shows his hands). An open wound.”
“I took a T-shirt that I had put aside in the evening, some kind of synthetic fabric, and just wrapped it around my arm. Then they cranked the second tourniquet so tight that I just yellled. Then I smoked, sitting next to her, and thought, ‘This is definitely not the end. We’ll be back.’”
Armor and luck saved their lives
“I can’t say that God or anything else saved me. I can say one thing: what definitely saved our lives was that we were wearing body armor. And luck, of course. Because it could have hit anywhere. Like those guys who were buried in closed coffins, with their heads or other body parts missing.”
“Our crew driver, Andriy Bilous, suffered the most serious injuries. He is still in a coma. Three State Emergency Service firefighters were also killed: Pavlo Yezgor, Danylo Skadin, and Andriy Remenny.”
Everything that was under the body armor is intact. All vital organs are intact after the blast wave.
“The body armor was taken off us then. I don’t know if it can still be used. Because I was promised that no one would touch it until I returned to work myself.”
“I’ve also already looked at some ballistic goggles.”
“During the explosion, one of the unit’s commanders was standing next to the ladder that the firefighters were climbing up. He told them, “Lower your visors because of the heat.” They lowered them. There was an explosion. A piece of debris flew up and hit the guy right in the eye, ricocheting higher and hitting his eyebrow. If he hadn’t been wearing a visor, he would have lost his eye.”
“So now I plan to get ballistic goggles. And, of course, a helmet. A Kevlar one.”
“My hands are itching to take pictures. Even in the hospital, I walk around with a film camera.”
“There is still a long way to go”
“On the second day after the operations, a psychologist worked with us. I thought for a long time: ‘What did I do wrong? Could I have prevented it?’ But everyone says: ‘You did everything right. It’s just war.’ But what helps us most is that we stick together.”
“We’ve been promised rehabilitation a little later.”
“As for me, the stitches have been removed from one place, but they’re still there in another, and it’s gradually healing. Only scars will remain.”
“But Inna still has a long way to go. She needs to have her arm treated—an Llizarov frame, and a finger repair. She will need another operation on her shoulder bone: they will insert a plate and realign everything. Even if she is discharged from the hospital soon for outpatient treatment, she still has a long road ahead of her. She will need lengthy rehabilitation.”
“We are currently working to ensure that everything goes as quickly as possible. I am very grateful to the State Emergency Service medical team — they are deeply involved in this case and are helping to expedite the process. Because right now, unfortunately, there are a lot of wounded people and queues everywhere.”
“We also talked to Superhumans about prosthetics for the thumb on her left hand.”
It is important that Inna comes out with a working hand. A hand that will work for the rest of her life.
Double taps are the new norm
“Previously, these were isolated cases in Kyiv. It often happened in Kharkiv or Odesa, where missles arrive very quickly. But stories like the one in Kyiv now – double taps– are becoming the norm.”
“Double taps are happening more and more often this year. And I think it will only get worse. We need to change our approach and respond accordingly. We have already developed our own plan.”
“We are now very careful about locations. We have to analyze what kind of place it is. Can we work there? You need to have everything thought out and be ready for anything.”
“If you remember the recent strike, we have a girl in our press service who went to the site of the strike—the entrance to a residential building was completely destroyed. She arrived, they started working, and then there were more strikes. Everyone just stopped working and hid in an underground passageway, waited, and then continued their work.”
“We go out with the firefighters to the sites of strikes in residential areas, when there is a threat to people’s lives or health. If the guys are working there, we have to be there. And even if, after what happened to us, the management wants to make us safer, we will argue. We can’t just sit and wait for the all-clear.”
“You have to understand: what happened to us was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. It happened, but thank God — or maybe not God — we survived. So, perhaps we still have something to accomplish in this life.”
How to avoid getting into this situation again
“Never forget or think that if you got lucky once, you will always be lucky. We all get lucky sometimes. And you think: that was my second birthday. And then you forget about that second birthday because you have another one. And then another one. And it’s not right for this to become the norm. You have to make a mental note when you find yourself in similar situations. I did that for myself. Every day, I think about how I can avoid getting into such a situation again.”
“That was probably my third ‘birthday.’ The first was in Bakhmut before New Year’s Eve 2022. A shell landed right behind our car when we were delivering water to civilians.”
“The second was in Kherson in 2023. We were shelled with artillery and Grad rockets on Ship Island. We lay by the curb for 40 minutes. Two of our employees were wounded.”
“And there’s another thing. If nothing bad happened to you, it means you did everything right. Don’t forget this rule.”
“Those who go on “flights (in the field)” must take tactical medicine courses. It’s a must. And it’s best to take them regularly. A first aid kit. Several tourniquets. An evacuation plan for the location. And body armor. Body armor saved us. Everything under it remained intact. Also, ballistic glasses.”
“And coordinate with press officers who know the situation. We have now started to implement a plan of action: if there is no threat to human life, we do not leave until the alarm is over.”
“And take fewer photos from the balcony when the air defense is working… (laughs).”
Thank you for your support
“Thank you to everyone who contributed to the fundraiser!”
“Thank you very much! We are currently undergoing treatment, and recovery lies ahead. At the same time, we need to upgrade our photography equipment, review all our protective gear, and generally improve the security of the press service.”
“Because there are things we can officially purchase through procedures, tenders. But that takes time. And there are things that need to be done now, and they will actually save the lives and health of our personnel. And we will be able to simply work and remain protected at the same time.”
“I hope to be discharged from the hospital soon and be able to return to work, as I’m already eager to take pictures. I haven’t finished shooting everything I want to.”
Story by Andriy Dubchak
English adaptation by Jared Goyette
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