"As long as I have the strength, I will be here with my boys," the story of 58-year-old frontline medic Zhanna

This story is about resilience, sacrifice, and unwavering commitment to saving lives. Zhanna Myrshevka's decision to become a volunteer frontline medic at 55 was deeply personal. Tragically, her son was wounded in battle, suffering a concussion and permanent disabilities. As a trained paramedic, Zhanna knew she had to act. She couldn’t just wait for someone else to save others, she shared with Leleka.

After several attempts to enlist, in October 2022, she finally received the necessary paperwork from a commander and joined the military. Her experience and skills earned her the trust of her commander, and she began going on missions with the rest of the team.

Through all the hardships, Zhanna remains unwavering. Now she is 58 and could have left the front two years ago but chose to stay for the soldiers who rely on her.

Zhanna joined the Ukrainian military in October 2022 at the age of 55 after her son was wounded

Zhanna, tell us why you decided to become a volunteer frontline medic?

My son went first. He worked as a docker at our river port in the Dnipropetrovsk region. They lined all the dockers up and counted off: first group goes to serve, second group stays to work. After all, the port couldn’t be left without dock workers.

My son was assigned to stay, and his colleague had to serve. But his wife had just given birth—the baby was only a week old. So my son switched places with him and went to serve instead. He was wounded, suffered a concussion, and due to his injuries, he even received a disability.

I’m a paramedic by profession. I’m not afraid of blood. When this happened to my son, I realized I had to go. Someone pulled my son out from the front and saved his life, so I had to do the same for others.

I didn’t tell anyone—I just went to the military enlistment office. I went there nine times, but they wouldn’t take me.

Then I ran into some acquaintances and told them: "Guys, this is my situation—you know me." They spoke to the commander, and he wrote a letter of acceptance for me that helped with the bureaucracy.

On October 23, I turned 55, and by then, I was already in training. After that, I was stationed at a permanent deployment point for a while. At first, everyone was afraid to take me out on missions because of my age. But then the commander trusted me, and I started going to the frontline with the guys. And now, I’ve been here for almost two and a half years.

A year after I joined, my daughter also decided to enlist. Now, she operates drones. We serve in the same brigade but in different battalions.

And now you're stationed in the Zaporizhzhia sector?

Yes, in the Zaporizhzhia direction.

Tell us about the conditions of your service. How often are you on the front line?

We spend four days on the front line, then four days resting.

What is the hardest part?

The first KIA (killed in action)—that was the worst. We were transporting him to safety, and I tried to save him for half the journey. He was just a kid. And then, when I realized he was gone, I held him, closed his eyes with my hand. When I handed him over to the medics, it fully hit me what had happened.

It’s always terrifying. A KIA is always terrifying.

With a wounded soldier (WIA), it’s different—you talk to them, support them. But with the fallen, you never get used to it.

Speaking of supplies, you received a Leleka Foundation medical backpack and other essential items. How much does this support help you save lives?

It helps a lot. First, the burn dressings—even for a regular wound, you apply them, and they help so much. You wipe the blood away, apply the dressing, and the healing process is much better. These burn wound dressings are essential.

Tourniquets—you can never have too many.

What Leleka Foundation provides, isn’t just helpful—it’s life-saving. Sometimes guys go into battle and lose a tourniquet, or something happens to it, and you immediately give them yours. No questions asked.

Medication is also crucial, especially anti-nausea tablets for concussions. Right now, we also really need cold medicine—it runs out quickly.

Usually, Zhanna spends four days on the front line, then four days resting

Doesn’t the state supply you with enough of these necessities?

There is state supply, but the needs are greater. For example, not long ago, our house in the Zaporizhzhia region was hit. Everything burned down. Our uniforms, everything. We ran out in whatever we had on, and that was it.

That’s when volunteers stepped in to replace our losses. I got my new medical backpack from Leleka.

While I’ve been serving, I’ve lost two combat backpacks. The first one was state-issued, but our evacuation vehicle got shelled. We barely made it out alive—everything, including the vehicle and all our stuff, burned.

And our sector isn’t even the hardest. It’s not the Donetsk direction, where it’s complete hell. And still, we burn, we lose people.

There aren’t enough hands. That’s why, when we get a minute, we train the guys—so if we’re not around, they can help too. Every second counts on the front line. Everything is done in a rush.

And the drones... the drones are relentless.

What keeps you going?

I don’t have time to lose heart. I must support the guys.

I’m 58 years old now. I could have been discharged two years ago. My husband passed away on my birthday, and before that, he was sick. I could have left the service.

But my commander asked me to stay—"The guys are used to you," he said.

Some call me "Mom, Zhanna." Some say "Momma." Some call me "Anatoliyivna."

So I’m not leaving them. I told them: "As long as I have the strength, I will be here with you."