Aftermath of Military Academy Strike Drains Ukraine’s Seasoned Rescuers

A day after a devastating Russian missile attack that killed more than 50 people in the Ukrainian city of Poltava, bricks splayed out from the stricken military academy building as exhausted rescue workers searched for bodies in the rubble, stopping every so often to listen for cries for help.

Overnight into Wednesday morning, workers napped on the academy’s lawn, some using helmets as pillows, as rescue dogs sat nearby. The rescuers, their uniforms covered in concrete dust, appeared to glisten in the floodlights at the site.

The bombing injured 277 people, according to Valerii Parkhomenko, a deputy mayor, and local hospitals were flooded with casualties.

Emergency workers at the strike site appeared exhausted, walking from time to time to a nearby tent providing coffee and snacks. “A lot more clearing needs to be done before we reach the bottom,” said one, who asked to be cited only his first name, Vladyslav.

He asked for coffee.

“Anything else?” a volunteer handing out drinks and sandwiches asked.

“No, just coffee,” he said.

However horrible the scene, volunteers and firefighters said it had become an all-too familiar ritual in the 30-month war with Russia.

“I saw nothing new here,” said Maksym Luhivsky, a 25-year-old volunteer, as he urged emergency workers to eat something to sustain their strength. “I’ve seen it all. When people come up because they can’t find their loved ones, that’s when it’s emotional. Dead bodies are not shocking or emotional any longer.”

The rescue was interrupted by 13 air-raid alerts on Tuesday and Wednesday, as Russia sent jets into the air that threatened to fire missiles; the activity triggers alerts even if no missile were fired.

A firefighter, who asked to be identified only by his first name, Dmytro, said the repeated alerts had slowed the rescue effort, but that he and his colleagues had learned to work while frequently leaving the site for short periods in case of a repeat attack. “We do this often,” he said.

Nearby, teachers at a kindergarten were still directing toddlers into a basement bomb shelter when explosions rocked the building.

“They are trained, they know: an alarm, run to put on shoes,” said Valeria Nor, 32, a mother who raced to check on her 3-year-old daughter. “But they are small, and it takes time.”

Nobody was hurt, but Ms. Nor said that when she arrived, the kindergartners were crying and frightened. In the neighborhood outside, soldiers and cadets from the military academy had fanned out, some drenched in blood.

They bandaged one another’s wounds, and residents helped, she said. Some soldiers had blood coming out of their ears.

Ms. Nor’s husband, a doctor, ran to treat the wounded while she bought water and juice for the shocked cadets.

“At the beginning of this war, we thought we would take the children and run if there were just one bang nearby,” she said. “But we didn’t run. We came to the epicenter to help.”