The 3 Heroes Who Saved Europe from a Nuclear Explosion: Ananenko, Bezpalov, and Baranov
- dthholland
- 3 minutes ago
- 4 min read

“How could I do that when I was the only person on the shift who knew where the valves were located?”
It wasn’t a line from a Cold War thriller. It was a quiet, matter-of-fact response from a man standing at the edge of what could have been Europe’s second Chernobyl-scale disaster—if not worse.
In the days following the Chernobyl explosion on 26 April 1986, as Soviet authorities scrambled to contain the fallout, another threat was silently brewing deep within the ruins of Reactor No. 4. This time, it wasn’t a mushroom cloud of radioactive graphite and steel—it was water.
The ticking time bomb under the reactor
Roughly ten days after the initial explosion, engineers uncovered a terrifying scenario: the molten reactor core, burning at thousands of degrees, was slowly sinking. Beneath it lay a flooded steam suppression pool—filled with water used by the fire brigade and cooling systems. If the molten core dropped into the pool, it would instantly vaporise the water into an immense cloud of radioactive steam. The resulting explosions could have ejected even more radiation into the atmosphere, potentially rendering vast swathes of Europe, Asia and even parts of North Africa uninhabitable.
This wasn’t alarmist speculation. Soviet scientists calculated that the chain reaction would have been so intense it might have required the evacuation of Kyiv and even made most of Ukraine and Belarus unliveable.
Enter the “suicide squad”
A draining operation had to be carried out—urgently. But there was a problem: someone needed to physically locate and open the submerged valves under the ruined reactor. Only one man, it turned out, knew exactly where they were.
His name was Alexei Ananenko, a mechanical engineer who had worked on the cooling systems. Alongside Valeri Bezpalov, another engineer, and Boris Baranov, a shift supervisor and pump operator, he volunteered for what was understood to be a one-way mission.

The three were dubbed the “suicide squad”. They knew full well that entering the pitch-black, radioactive, water-filled corridors beneath Reactor No. 4 could mean a slow, agonising death from radiation poisoning. But there was no hesitation, Ananenko’s reply said it all: “How could I do that when I was the only person on the shift who knew where the valves were located?”
Into the belly of the beast
On 6 May 1986, the trio entered the darkened underbelly of the power plant, each equipped with two dosimeters and a grim understanding of the task at hand. The water stood waist-deep, opaque and humming with radiation. The only light came from a flickering torch held by Baranov—dim, sputtering, and periodically plunging them into complete darkness.
Despite the conditions, the men moved swiftly. Ananenko had brought an adjustable spanner, in case the valves proved difficult to turn. Eventually, they spotted a familiar pipe. It led them straight to the two gate valves. With deliberate care, they opened them—draining the pool and neutralising the threat of a second catastrophic explosion.

Heroes… but not martyrs
News of their mission spread quickly. Soviet and international reports soon claimed all three had died of radiation sickness within weeks—portraying them as fallen martyrs. Western media later echoed these accounts, repeating the story of noble sacrifice. But the truth, as it turns out, was a little different.
While Boris Baranov sadly passed away in 2005 from heart failure, both Ananenko and Bezpalov survived the mission and lived for decades more. In fact, Ananenko continued to work in the nuclear industry. The radiation levels, it seems, were far less lethal than feared. Some believe the water may have absorbed more of the radiation than originally estimated—ironically helping to protect the men rather than harm them.
In his 2016 book Chernobyl 01:23:40, author Andrew Leatherbarrow set the record straight, offering a more accurate account of what happened during and after the mission. It became clear that while the mission was undoubtedly dangerous, the narrative of an immediate death sentence had been a misrepresentation—perhaps encouraged by the Soviet regime’s secrecy and the West’s assumptions about radiation exposure.

Recognition at last
It would take more than 30 years for official recognition to catch up. In April 2018, with the Chernobyl New Safe Confinement structure looming in the background, Ukrainian President Petro Poroshenko awarded Ananenko, Bezpalov, and the late Baranov the Order for Courage. At the ceremony, Poroshenko acknowledged that the Soviet state had kept their story quiet and that for decades, few had known their names.
Ananenko and Bezpalov accepted the awards in person. Baranov’s award was presented posthumously.
Their legacy
Chernobyl is often remembered for the scale of its disaster and the cost of silence. But within that story is also one of profound human courage—of three men who stepped forward when it mattered most, not for glory or reward, but because they believed it had to be done.
They didn’t wear capes. They wore rubber boots, dosimeters, and carried flickering torches into radioactive water. But make no mistake: Ananenko, Bezpalov, and Baranov are the kind of heroes history shouldn’t forget.
Sources
Leatherbarrow, Andrew. Chernobyl 01:23:40: The Incredible True Story of the World’s Worst Nuclear Disaster, 2016.
Ukrainian Presidential Press Office, April 2018.
World Nuclear Association – The Chernobyl Accident
IAEA Report: Chernobyl’s Legacy: Health, Environmental and Socio-Economic Impacts and Recommendations to the Governments of Belarus, the Russian Federation and Ukraine
BBC News Archives, Chernobyl Disaster Coverage