Chernobyl Worker's Harrowing Account: 'My Skin Turned Brown After One Shift'
Chernobyl Worker: 'My Skin Turned Brown After One Shift'

On the morning of 26 April 1986, the world witnessed the worst nuclear accident in history at the Chernobyl power plant in Ukraine. This catastrophic event not only decimated a city but also left an indelible mark on those who experienced its horrifying aftermath firsthand.

The Last Man in the Control Room

Oleksiy Breus, a 67-year-old plant worker who started his employment in 1982, was the last individual present in the control room when reactor number four failed during a safety test. He willingly entered the area just hours after the explosion, unaware of the full scale of the disaster that would change the Soviet Union forever.

Breus described arriving at work that fateful day, stating to Sky News, "It looked like it would be a mass grave. I was sure that the whole night shift had died there." He had been sleeping in his flat in Pripyat at the moment of the explosion and heard nothing, seeing the destruction only as he approached by bus. "My hair stood on its end when I saw that," he recalled, highlighting the sheer shock of the scene.

Visible and Rapid Physical Effects

The nuclear waste and radiation exposure poisoned Breus within a single shift, leading to profound and visible effects on his body. He noted that the award-winning television series Chernobyl did not exaggerate these rapid transformations.

Breus spoke with shift leader Oleksandr Akimov and operator Leonid Toptunov immediately after the incident. "They were not looking good, to put it mildly. It was clear they felt sick. They were very pale. Toptunov had literally turned white," he said. Both men succumbed to acute radiation syndrome within weeks.

Other colleagues from that night shift exhibited bright red skin, a symptom that preceded their deaths in Moscow hospitals. Breus himself experienced severe changes: "When I finished my shift, my skin was brown, as if I had a proper suntan all over my body. My body parts not covered by clothes - such as hands, face and neck - were red." This sunburn-like effect was a stark indicator of the radiation burns and steam burns that many discussed but rarely saw depicted so vividly.

The Human Cost and Heroic Efforts

In the weeks following the explosion, Soviet officials reported that 29 power plant workers and firefighters died from acute radiation syndrome, with two additional fatalities due to injuries from the accident. Among them was Vasily Ignatenko, a firefighter from Pripyat who was unaware of the radiation risk and died on 13 May 1986.

Desperate efforts to contain the disaster seemed doomed from the start. Three plant workers, including chief engineer Oleksiy Ananenko, had to dive under a tunnel to open a faulty drainage valve, preventing a leak from reaching the water and potentially causing an even more severe explosion. Ananenko explained his motivation simply: "It was our job. If I didn't do it, they could just fire me. How would I find another job after that?"

Miners were later employed to dig under the reactor, creating space for a heat exchanger to stop the core from contaminating the water table and averting an irreversible chain of deaths.

Broader Impact and Soviet Secrecy

The disaster extended beyond the plant workers, affecting Pripyat residents who ventured out to witness the chaos. Ananenko recounted meeting a man in hospital who had biked to a bridge on the morning of 26 April to watch the events, suffering from a mild form of acute radiation syndrome. Another friend, who had a date near the Pripyat bridge that night, experienced subsequent health problems.

Plant director Viktor Bryukhanov, chief engineer Nikolai Fomin, and deputy chief engineer Anatoly Dyatlov were sentenced to ten years in a labour camp for their roles in the disaster. Breus noted that Dyatlov, while strict and feared by operators, was a high-level professional whose presence created tension.

In Breus's opinion, Chernobyl served as a catalyst for change within the Soviet government, forcing an end to their system of secrecy. "For example, that useless secrecy, which became one of the reasons behind the Chernobyl disaster. When the operators pushed the red button, the reactor didn't stop but exploded," he stated, underscoring how transparency might have prevented the catastrophe.

The Chernobyl disaster remains a poignant reminder of the devastating consequences of nuclear accidents, with Oleksiy Breus's firsthand account shedding light on the human suffering and heroic actions that defined that tragic day.