Whenever I speak about it now, I shiver. It was only by chance I was in the area that day, 14 August, assisting the flying squad on a drugs search. Corra, a border collie, was with me as he is a sniffer dog, but I also brought along Night Spirit, a rescue dog: I thought we could do some training together afterwards.

As we made our way back to headquarters after the drugs search, we heard over the radio that some calls had come in about a possible bridge collapse. I was in the car with my colleague, Francesco, who was driving, while Corra and Night Spirit were in the back. We raced to the site. Parts of the bridge had fallen on to the two main streets on either side of the dry riverbed. There were smashed cars under the rubble. People were wandering around in shock; there was a woman who had walked out of an overturned truck. My brain couldn’t understand what my eyes were seeing. That a bridge had fallen couldn’t be possible.

Night Spirit and I made our way towards the rubble. We were directly underneath the green Basko van that had stopped right at the point where the bridge fell away. Rocks were continuing to fall. The dog started to bark like crazy. We found a woman first, lying next to a man – she was alive but he was gone. The dog carried on working, stopping at a precise point; Night Spirit is trained to find people by scent. I then heard voices, coming from deep down. I had to tell him to keep quiet for a moment so we could listen – there were so many other noises around us: the heavy rain (we were soaked), thunder and sirens. We could hear people screaming and kept assuring them that we were there, that help was coming. It was a woman and her daughter. When I heard that night that they had been pulled out alive, I burst into tears.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘The dog started to bark like crazy’: Laura Bisio with Night Spirit. Photograph: courtesy of Laura Bisio

The dog kept searching, but a lot of people we found were dead. We went towards a lorry and heard the voices of people trapped inside, and they were saved. It was apocalyptic. Ambulances were coming to collect bodies. A doctor pointed out that I was losing blood, but I didn’t even notice the cuts. Night Spirit and I sustained injuries as we worked, but we didn’t give them any thought; the goal was to save as many people as possible. We were overwhelmed, emotionally and mentally, but carried on.

In situations like this, speed is everything. I worked in L’Aquila after the earthquake in 2009, with another rescue dog called Peter Pan, but unfortunately we found only bodies. In Genoa, I was told we saved six people. I didn’t meet them afterwards, but I saw some of the survivors interviewed on television and it made me so happy. An experience such as this changes your life; you realise it can happen to anyone, without warning, and in such a disastrous way. In the aftermath you continue to feel pain for those who died or suffered. You carry the images with you and struggle to sleep. You ask yourself: “Did I do everything I could? Could I have done more?” But the way the rescue workers collaborated and the solidarity between everyone gave me enormous satisfaction. We were united in our goal to save lives.

As told to Angela Giuffrida

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