Russia has not paused its offensive for a single day. It continues to shell cities and villages, killing civilians and committing war crimes. Ukraine’s army remains short of both people and weapons. Yet hundreds of thousands of citizens are still defending the country and destroying the enemy. New leaders are streamlining clumsy army structures. The Ukrainian School of Political Studies (USPS) spoke to three of its alums who are currently on the front line about what matters most when leading people in combat, and how they feel at this stage of the war. The next interviewee is Viktoriia Kovach, Chief Medical Officer of the 3rd Army Corps. At a time when Ukraine is facing not only relentless Russian drones and missiles but also new international complications in the form of U.S. President Donald Trump’s erratic foreign policy, Viktoriia remains calm and focused. She analyses her daily responsibilities with precision and reflects on what more can be done to ensure that wounded or sick soldiers receive timely, high-quality medical care.
Viktoriia Kovach went to war as a student back in 2014, when Russia first launched its aggression in the Donbas. She joined the Azov volunteer regiment as a combat medic. After demobilisation, she completed her medical degree, worked at the Ministry of Health, and later joined the private Dobrobut clinic. When Russia launched its full-scale invasion, it once again left civilians to defend their country. In 2022, she was tasked with building a medical service from scratch for the newly formed 3rd Assault Brigade, which was transformed into a corps in March 2025.
Chief Medical Officer of the 3rd Army Corps and 2024 USPS graduate, Viktoriia Kovach, shares the principles guiding her service — and why every individual bears responsibility for the course of the war.
“At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, we were formed as a Territorial Defence unit. There was systemic chaos — not just in my unit, but across the entire country. I worked as a medic on an evacuation crew. In March 2022, we were placed under the command of the Special Operations Forces (SOF), and a unit called SOF Azov-Kyiv was formed. There, I continued as an evac medic but also served as chief of the medical post for one of the squads. When the brigade began to take shape, that’s when it was decided I would lead the medical service”.
“In 2022, every position was an experiment — the parameters kept changing. You can’t compare the conditions of the ATO/JFO to those of the full-scale invasion regarding what the medical service entails. It’s a completely different world. But I had one major advantage: I had excellent communication and trust with my commander. I often hear from other heads of medical services who have to jump through hoops just to get in touch with their brigade commander or chief of staff. That’s not okay — because issues that could be solved quickly end up delayed or dropped entirely due to missed timing”.
“Was I afraid to take on this position? In 2022, people lost their fear — but they had a clear goal. That made the path more important than the fear itself”.
“When creating the service, the first step was identifying the real issues — pinpointing what exactly was a problem within the military. The next step involved securing human and material resources, as well as planning operational processes”.
“Personnel is the hardest issue. Medicine does not forgive mistakes. On the one hand, you need professional expertise. On the other hand, you need people who are open to change and able to work as a team. There are many highly qualified professionals who simply aren’t cut out for field conditions. Take neurosurgeons, for instance — they can accomplish far more where there’s an environment that allows them to perform medical miracles”.
“The team we’re forming is built first and foremost on equality, regardless of one’s position. You may hold a PhD or three degrees — but the driver behind the wheel is your equal, because his responsibility is no less vital than that of the specialist sitting in the same vehicle. We reject any notion that doctors are more important than mechanics, engineers, pharmacists, or clerks. Every one of them matters”.
“The medical service is a multi-level system that includes diverse yet interconnected areas. Among them is outpatient care and treatment of non-combat injuries — anything from ‘something hurts’ to sleep disorders, minor trauma, or even COVID. We have a clinic staffed by general practitioners, an ENT specialist, a neurologist, an ophthalmologist, a trauma doctor, a surgeon, dentists — and crucially, we also have diagnostics”.
“Combat injury means a stabilisation point and evacuation. There’s a wound — so we treat, stabilise, and transfer”.
“Logistics — equipment, medication, transport, blood, plasma, immunobiologicals”.
“Documentation — a group of people handling the paperwork to ensure that a wounded soldier gets to the right hospital on time. ‘Bureaucracy’ is a soft word for what they do. In reality, they’re crisis managers”.
“There’s also an analytics department — vital in any structure to understand how it can improve or what the contingency plan is if things go wrong. For instance, the number of wounded could suddenly rise. We need to be prepared for completely different demands in both material and non-material supplies. That’s what the analytics team is for — to track where we’ve been, where we are now, and where we might end up. After that, we can monitor outcomes. Artillery can count strikes and effectiveness, but in medicine, you can’t say a certain number of wounded is ‘good’ or ‘bad’. It’s just a fact”.
“We’ve also formed a separate maintenance and repair unit. These are the ones working with vehicles. An evacuation driver might be in the repair unit one day and transporting the wounded on another shift”.
“The experience of Avdiivka taught me: rely on yourself and those beside you. I’m proud of the people I serve with shoulder to shoulder. In Avdiivka, when things got tough and the flow of wounded was overwhelming — and I’m not just talking about our brigade, the injured came from various units — people who weren’t directly involved in evacuation would call and say they were ready to step in for the drivers so they could get some rest. Dentists were working as treatment nurses. I already knew the people around me were incredible — but at that moment, I realised I’d go anywhere with them”.
“You always need points of support outside the system: volunteers and civilian organisations. In an emergency, they respond much faster than the system can. I’m endlessly grateful to those who replied to messages like: ‘I can’t explain much right now, but I need this many of that thing by tomorrow.’ And by tomorrow, it was there. No one asked unnecessary questions because, at the time, we couldn’t publicly disclose where we were. That’s what trust-based relationships mean — when people believe you’re asking because it’s truly needed”.
“The number of people involved in delivering medical support keeps growing. I directly oversee more than a hundred personnel. What we need most right now are surgeons, general practitioners, and anaesthesiologists. We’re also actively searching for a qualified psychiatrist and mid-level medical staff. This includes radiology technicians, nurses, anaesthetic assistants, and those who know how to work efficiently under the pressure of large numbers of wounded. And something critically important — we’re looking for managers at all levels who understand what responsibility, coordination, and a systems-based approach mean and are ready to put the best practices into action”.
“Many young doctors started joining the military in 2024, but they had been considering it for some time. For example, someone finishing their internship in 2024 had already called me back in 2023, saying they wanted to join us. I believe that person needed to finish their studies first and then come. My reply in such cases is: ‘Hold on a bit — this war isn’t going to last just two more months; you’ll get your chance. Finish your internship, and then you’re welcome to join us’”.
“There’s also a group of people whose thinking was directly influenced by the mobilisation story. It sparked a wave of searching for where they could be most effective. That’s something we saw in 2024. The reasons for joining the army are evolving. Some prepare ahead, some plan long-term — but that fiery, emotional drive to enlist like we saw in 2022 is, of course, no longer there”.
“I try to distract myself, as much as possible, from the news that is spreading at a frantic pace. One morning, you can hear about how someone will end the war in a day, and in the evening, this day turns into 90 days. And you already perceive it as a meme, and sometimes as absurdity. If you take everything seriously, it means placing the responsibility for your work on someone who publicly claims to speed up some actions. The fastest way to win is when everyone is involved in the process, understands their role in this mechanism and the ultimate goal they have to achieve. I stopped truly believing that someone can solve my problems or the problems of my country a long time ago”.
“Everyone has to understand that the war, in one shape or another, will last for a long time. You need to finally decide who you stand for, particularly for civilians. You are either with us or you are working for us. There is no third option. For the military, I wish you patience and more winning lotteries. And wisdom in management, primarily from senior officers. Because a lot of lives, defence lines, and territories depend on flawed decisions. Even though this is a technological war, the defence line is held by people. The front line is where the infantry stands.”
