Overcoming obstacles

The first challenge we had to overcome is something most people wouldn’t think of when considering operations in an active warzone: the weather. Analysing meteorological data received from the UK Meteorological Service and checking it against actual weather conditions based on communication with partner volunteers on the ground was critical to avoid any mishaps such as flying an aircraft through strong winds or a dust storm.

SARC volunteers collect WFP pallets to load them onto trucks and take them to distribution points in the city.

Then there was the challenge of dealing with volatile security and constantly changing frontlines. We had a finite set of volunteers that we trusted to distribute the food, and their safety was central to the success of the daily operations. To avoid any safety risks such as ambush by militant groups during an airdrop, we often changed the drop zone location to ensure safety of our team members on the ground. Over the course of the 15 months, we had to change the location of the airdrops four times due to impending or actual attacks.

Calculating risks, anxiety and hope

It is difficult to describe the level of tension I felt when watching an operation for which I was responsible unfold before my eyes. Once the go-head was given and the parachutes were released, I was stuck in a waiting game. It took four minutes for the high-velocity parachutes to reach the ground and in that time a militant group could have launched an attack.

Coordinating an airdrop from inside the control room in Damascus, Syria. Photo: WFP/Hussam AlSaleh

The cargo had to be collected and distributed as quickly as possible to vacate the drop zone. These were always the most hectic moments. I could feel the tension in the control room where we waited on bated breath, always keeping contact with the pilot in the air and the volunteers on the ground until each drop — three of them in every operation — was safely in the hands of our volunteers. I can remember clearly each time a strained cry from the team leader on the ground warned of a potential attack. Once, after hearing a loud bang over the radio, the team leader called in to report what happened.

“Hamza!” he called. “Do you remember the red building we use as a marking point?” I did remember it. “Well, there is no red building anymore.”

It was shelled just minutes after we finished one of our operations. If the attack had happened during one of the drops, and one of our volunteers had been hurt, there would not have been any medical help around to save him. Knowing that these people were literally risking their lives to give others trapped in the city a chance to survive made me vigilant and decisive in my decisions to end or continue an operation. It was the least I could do.

Desperate times call for desperate measures

When it was not the fear of militant attacks or the occasional bomb threat or shooting, it was dealing with children who loitered around the drop zone trying to enter it to collect empty pallets to use as firewood. We had to keep them away from the drop zone not just for fear of being caught up in any cross fire, but for the very real fear of being hit by one of the dropping pallets. The children knew the danger coming in, but the fact that they kept coming always highlighted the sheer level of their desperation.