Michael Kuk reminds of how the actions of Soviet firefighters 40 years ago were crucial in containing multiple fires to prevent a wider catastrophe. Many of those members died, whether very quickly or years later from long-term health issues.
By Michael L. Kuk, Firehouse.com
The response of first-due firefighters at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant disaster centered on strategies and tactics for industrial fires and accidents. The Russian National Fire Headquarters was caught in a situaton that was totally unknown and uncharted. Whether firefighers were wearing protective clothing or not, the nuclear-based fire attacked their body.
Even later-responding firefighters who were exposed despite being told to distance themselves, tie off handlines and use unmanned monitors suffered long-term health issues and a shortened life expectancy.
Firefighters and power plant workers who were exposed to lethal doses of radiation poisoning are buried in lead-lined coffins.
It’s been 40 years since the worst peacetime nuclear disaster took place in the Ukraine region of the Soviet Union. To date, the world and its firefighters still grasp with what the future will hold for this ground zero of unbelievable tragedy. The never-ending lessons from this event continue to emit more questions than answers, much like the nuclear fallout of that infamous morning.
The April 2006 issue of Firehouse Magazine included my story (“Chernobyl: 20 Years Later“) of the initial response and challenges that taxed the local firefighters who went up against an unforgiving enemy of eternal proportions. Their firefighting efforts during that event were a mixture of untold courage and sacrifice. The overall reward for serving that day as a brave firefighter was a somewhat lengthy and horrible period of unavoidable suffering, followed by an early death.
In the article, I mentioned that a strange metallic taste occurred in the mouth of the firefighters early on in the fire fight. The first-due firefighting crews encountered many unknown issues during their initial efforts. In addition to facing a searingly hot, nuclear-based fire that constantly attacked their bodies despite protective clothing being worn, the invisible radiation was melting the fillings in their mouth. Thus, their dental work was an early indicator that something was really wrong in regard to their health and the overall stability on the fireground.
Their skin tissue behaved like a dry sponge, absorbing every wave and minute particle of nuclear energy. This action proved to be the most negative and unforgiving side effect from a runaway nuclear fire. There was no relief to their body from this death-laced grim atmosphere and no going back from what happened to their body after this appalling exposure.
Rapid health decline
The power plant’s industrial firefighters were the first to respond to the disaster. Despite their training and knowledge, they totally were unprepared for such an event. The men and their apparatus centered on responses to industrial fires and accidents—not that much different than their counterparts who were outside of the fences and gates of the heavy industrial facility. There never was a major explosion and fire at any nuclear power plant facility in the world. They got to be lethally tested and were the first for the record books.
Without question, they bravely battled the fires with inadequate protection against extreme radiation, and the process of uncontrolled radioactive emissions resulted in Acute Radiation Syndrome (ARS) for the six power plant firefighters of the first-due crew. All six of these officers and firefighters—Vasily Ignatenko, Viktor Kibenok, Vladimir Pravyk, Vladimir Tishura, Nikolai Titenok and Nikolai Vashchuk—died from ARS within a brief period as a result of their short time frame of exposure to the fierce and untamed nuclear fire.
They operated at close quarters to the burning reactor, with their largest caliber handlines trained on the seemingly bottomless pit of the fire, with no determined extinguishment in sight. Unfortunately, this exposure resulted in their health rapidly declining on scene. These initial response firefighters were on scene about 30 minutes or so before they became too weak to stand. They collapsed at their post and were transported to a nearby hospital in Pripyat.
The second-due firefighters and other backup crews also were exposed. Within various periods of determined fireground service, they, too, became fatigued and disabled and were transported to a medical facility for evaluation and treatment.
The symptoms and fate of the firefighters were destined for an unfavorable outcome. On arrival at the hospital, they were admitted with severe burns and treated as such. When radiation meters were brought to the emergency room, a shocking measurement of radiation poisoning became known to the medical authorities. A new course of action had to be taken by the medical personnel.
Of special note to the medical team was that many of the firefighters had eye color changes upon checking their admittance documents. The medical records of the firefighters showed all of them having brown eyes. After this brief duration of radiation exposure, their eyes turned blue.
Overall, the firefighters suffered severe burns to both exposed and unexposed skin, followed by uncontrolled vomiting, and most had early stages of organ failure. ICU treatment was paramount to trying to sustain life.
As the days progressed in the hospital, their hair fell out in gobs, and a nuclear “tan” was visible on their body.
The highest concern was that their bodies remained highly radioactive. That situation alone required special handling for moving the injured to an isolation unit. Things still were pretty much a “hit or miss” operation for the initial period of emergency care.
Later-arriving crews
Later-responding firefighting crews started to take a different approach to the fire’s runaway conditions after briefings from the Russian National Fire Headquarters authorities, who told them to try to distance themselves and to tie off the handlines and use unmanned monitors. However, although some personnel survived, pretty much everyone who was exposed, even for a short time, suffered long-term health issues and a shortened life expectancy. There was no medical relief nor treatment for a successful outcome.
The Russian National Fire Headquarters staff had no idea of how severe the conditions were at the power plant. They couldn’t and wouldn’t believe the initial reports. Of course, they never encountered any nuclear-based incident like this before and were caught in a situation that was totally unknown and uncharted.
The Russian National Fire Headquarters staff’s bosses in Moscow became frustrated with the uncontrolled firefighting efforts and wanted the local personnel to cover up as much of the tragedy as possible in the early hours. Hiding this from the rest of the world was all that mattered to Communist Russia at this time frame of history. After all, this power plant and its early success was a testament to the rest of the world that Russia was leading the way for nuclear energy production.
In retrospect, many of the firefighters who responded on mutual-aid assistance survived the hazards of the initial call to the Chernobyl disaster. There are reports that as many as 28 firefighters unfortunately died from ARS in the following weeks. Although the number was decreased around the end of July 1986, it’s well noted that many more exposed mutual-aid firefighters succumbed to radiation-induced cancers later in life. There simply was no cure for acute radiation injuries—although, today, treatments exist to manage symptoms, prevent infection and encourage the body to repair itself.
So little knowledge existed at the time of the aftermath. Without question, nuclear authorities knew that highly elevated levels of radiation would be fatal, but no one knew of a timeline for death to occur to any individual. The treatment of that time was elementary and consisted of a basic life support response, with little medical technology for a positive outcome. Other firefighters who were exposed to extremely high doses lived for years or decades, though often with severe health problems.
Once the rooftop fires of burning debris were knocked down, the exposure limits became enforced for the firefighters. The word “defensive” took on a new meaning in the face of the unforgiving nuclear-based fire. Only a critical mission effort was permitted for further firefighting action.
Buried in lead-lined coffins
First-due firefighters Ignatenko and Pravik received lethal doses on the reactor roof and died from radiation poisoning in the hospital shortly after arrival there. A silent death took away their spirit of a brave firefighter’s life.
Senior fire officer Leonid Telvatnikov survived the initial event and lived for several decades, although he suffered long-term health issues.
The action of the Soviet firefighters was crucial in containing the multiple fires on the turbine hall roof. The prevention of a wider catastrophe was the direct result of their brave work. Their rock-solid heroic actions came at an immense personal cost. There was no method for them to overcome and kill the fire because of the overwhelming radiation that issued from the reactor.
Today, these firefighters and other power plant workers, who also went above and beyond their normal scope of duties, are buried with honors in lead-lined coffins.
Russia does hold these personnel in high esteem to this day.
In our firefighter community today, we recognize that 40 years have passed, and we honorably salute our brothers-in-battle for their courage and sacrifice.
We never will forget their hallowed efforts from that day in April 1986, becoming early “liquidators” who are honored for their sacrifice in containing the meltdown and preventing further catastrophe.
Michael L. Kuk retired as fire chief for the Joint Readiness Training Center and U.S. Army Garrison at Fort Polk. In his more than 60 years of fire service experience, he also led volunteer, combination, industrial and federal fire departments, with 50 years of chief officer tenure. A U.S. Army Vietnam veteran, Kuk has been a published fire service author since 1972, including his book “An Army Firefighter in Vietnam 1970–1971,” which tells his military service story. He is a lifetime member of the International Association of Fire Chiefs. Kuk can be reached at combatfirefighter.com.
