SERHII KHRAPKO first went to the enlistment office in the summer of 2014, but they sent him home. It wasn’t until January 2015 that he received his draft notice, and by then, he already sensed that the war would be long. That same year, he suffered a severe injury, losing an arm and a leg. Despite this, he now organizes charity marathons, takes part in various sports, and supports injured soldiers in the hospital.
About himself. Before the war, I used to make and sell school furniture for kids. I traveled all over Ukraine. Then, ironically, we found ourselves fighting in those same schools and kindergartens. I remember sitting on one of those chairs I’d delivered three years prior, thinking, ‘Now, that’s a story.’
About hobbies and sports. I have two kids, and that’s more than enough to keep me going. They’re my support and my inspiration. Everything I do is for them. I’m into archery, diving, swimming, pétanque, wakesurfing, wakeboarding, and skiing. I hit the gym a few times a week. Time is always tight, but if there’s a will, there’s a way. I’m not working 24/7, so I always find a bit of adventure and activity to squeeze in.
I’d love to travel endlessly if I could, but now’s not the right time for that. For now, I’m doing what I can where I am. Being part of the Invictus Games team isn’t just for my own enjoyment; it’s a step toward promoting the rehabilitation journey. I’m here to support my injured comrades and to show them this path.
There are so many opportunities now for injured veterans. Back in 2019, when I started wakeboarding, I had to ride on a bare board without a seat. Today, there are at least four wake parks in Ukraine equipped with adaptive seats.
I can’t pick just one favorite sport. Tennis, surfing—both are amazing. Wakeboarding is great, too. Skydiving gives me such a feeling of freedom. Sure, there’s a bit of fear in that first step, but after that, it’s a rush! I’m planning to try diving, but not in the sea—murky water makes me a bit wary. I want to feel the ocean waves, too.
Honestly, I used to be same active before the injury, but I didn’t always have the money or time back then. Now, I don’t postpone the things I once dreamed of.
I remember asking some of the guys one day what their winter plans were, and they said, ‘We’re going skiing.’ So I asked, ‘Do you think they could set up skis for someone without legs?’ Just six months later, I was skiing in Bukovel, and a month after that, in Canada. And soon, I’ll be back skiing in Canada again.
About what matters. Twice a week, I visit the hospital to see wounded soldiers. Nowadays, though, I barely get the chance to know anyone before they’re transferred out—no one stays for more than a week. Before, I’d visit the same person for months. Now, I might say, ‘See you Friday,’ but by then, he’s already been moved to a different ward or hospital.
The way soldiers approach injuries and recovery has really changed with the full-scale war. They’re much more informed about their health and handling amputations. They know where to go, what resources to seek out. Back when I was first injured, I didn’t even know about my own benefits until after I was discharged.
On dealing with my own injury. When I first regained consciousness in the ICU, my mind raced with questions—how to go on, what the future would look like. At that time, I had little information about prosthetics, and I couldn’t imagine how I’d move a leg that wasn’t there. Moving a limb, even partially, was one thing, but moving something completely absent? I had no idea how that would work. There was no one to explain it or show me any programs for prosthetics, and prosthetists didn’t visit us. I found myself just typing ‘ exarticulation’ into search engines, and even then, the information was minimal.
Once I was out of the ICU, I decided to focus less on what I’d lost. Life hadn’t changed that drastically—I could still do what I used to do. When I got home, I tried to handle things on my own and realized it was possible, just a bit slower and harder. That put a lot of my questions to rest, and I didn’t dwell on ‘how to live’ from then on.
My wife kept things straightforward. She told me, ‘I don’t care if you have one arm or not; you used to cook, so get back to it.’ I was also very firm that I didn’t want to be fed with a spoon. That only happened while I was in the ICU, and that was it. I still had my other arm, after all.”
On Society’s Perception. People’s views on those with injuries shifted dramatically after 2022. Before that, there was talk about raising funds for rehabilitation centers, but not much came of it. Suddenly, after 2022, we saw a whole wave of these centers opening up. The demand grew, of course, but the need had been there long before. It was only in 2022 that ‘veterans’ really seemed to exist to the public—before that, it was like we were invisible.
From 2015 until 2022, only once did someone approach me to say thank you—a man and his son. Another time, back in 2016, an older man circled around me before finally asking, ‘So, where’s the other half of you gone?’ It’s impossible to educate or explain to everyone, unfortunately.
Now, people come up to thank me as often as three times a day. Not every single day, but much more frequently than before. But then there’s the odd behavior, like people putting a five-hryvnia note in my coffee cup, thinking that’s a meaningful way to support a veteran in a wheelchair. So now, I make it a point not to stop with my coffee near a store entrance. I roll a bit further down the street instead.”
About happiness. I have everything I need—my family and myself. I’m doing what I love, and I dream of traveling.
Translated by Green Forest English School