The loud and repetitive metallic thudding echoes through the workshop as a worker hammers away at a large engine. He pauses, tilts his head for a quick check at what he’s done and then gets back at it.
He’s one of many — whose names CNN has agreed not to disclose to protect their identity — working inside a warehouse in a secret location in Ukraine. They are ordinary civilians, but their work is vital for Ukraine’s war effort. They repair damaged vehicles, such as tanks and infantry fighting vehicles, so that Kyiv can send them back to the front lines.
One such vehicle stands out: Its tracks are a mangled mess of metal, twisted after it struck a land mine. It was Russian, and its body is riddled with “Z” signs all over, the mark of Moscow’s full-scale invasion.
“This is a transport vehicle that we are going to modify into a medical evacuation machine,” says Bohdan Ostapchuk, project coordinator at the Serhiy Prytula Charity Foundation, who is responsible for this warehouse.
It’s one of a dozen or so armored vehicles — including armored personnel carriers, infantry fighting vehicles and even a tank — being repaired at the shop. But patching these up is not the only thing the Ukrainians are doing: They are also modifying and improving them.
“We are trying to make them safer and more comfortable for use on the battlefield,” he says.
Despite recent Western donations, Russian-made equipment — including hardware salvaged or captured from Moscow’s armies — has been used by the Ukrainian military since the early days of Russia’s invasion.
They coordinate with the military to find the missing pieces and build whatever else they cannot find, but it’s a process that takes time and consumes resources. They eventually find a way, and Ostapchuk said they have been able to repair more than 30 types of vehicles, including some Western-made ones. “I can’t go into detail,” he quickly adds.
It’s one of the reasons why this workshop is so vital and their work so intricate — and secretive.
As Ukraine prepares to launch its long-awaited counteroffensive, Ostapchuk says that —despite the dozen or so vehicles currently being worked on — the warehouse is unusually empty, compared to other times. Here too, they’ve been feeling the calm before the storm.
The next armored vehicle to go to the front lines, a T-72 B3M main battle tank, stands at the entrance of the warehouse, looking almost brand-new.
In a moment’s notice, a Ukrainian technician fires up the tank’s engine, filling the warehouse air with fumes. The workshop grinds to a halt as the powerful noise turns heads toward the tank.
