I wish I had a picture to show you. The cargo hold of an Antonov AN-32 is pretty good sized. But when you pack many more than 70 people in it, the hold becomes very small. The sight was one which most people will never see. I had imagined what it would be like before I left on this mission, but I never thought it would look like this.
It was dark, the only light coming in was from a few small windows. There were only the jump seats for people to sit on. These were designed for paratroops and could fold up against the wall. All the space on the floor was taken up with strecher cases. Our medical team checked everyone, one by one. Almost wading through the people.
As expected there were quite a few stow-a-ways. Including one woman who could not move. She was in the advanced stages of TB, with probably a few days or maybe a week or two left. Someone had carried her on board and left her. The sad thing is that the Doctors had refused her during triage. There was nothing that could be done for her and would only take space from other who needed it.
I hated those kind of decisions. So that one person can live, another is resigned to death. Still here she was on the plane. Maybe the field hospital we were taking them to could at least make her comfortable. We made sure to put a surgical mask on her, she was coughing constantly.
Something else strange, now that I think about it... There were no children. In fact during our brief landing, I didn't see a single child. That's not right... What happened to all the children. Where they being hidden? Were they dead? Had they been taken into slavery? I don't know. This is the first time I remembered it.
During counseling sessions for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, this mission was one I had a lot of trouble with. There are a lot of gaps in my memory. According to the Dr's this is normal. A kind of self protection mechanism. Something gets to stressful and my mind shuts down recording. Maybe this is why I don't remember so much?
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