In December 1993 I was given permission to deliver aid to all sides of the conflict and to evacuate the wounded from besieged areas. Following our return from Central Bosnia, we were taken to the airport in Split to await the arrival of the first fifty patients from Tuzla, Zenica and Sarajevo. They had been flown to Split under the auspices of Operation Angel, the title bestowed upon our mission by the UN. When the Sea King helicopters landed with their precious cargo I was escorted across the tarmac, my arms filled with baseball caps and toys for the children. Amongst the patients was a seven year old boy called Senad Zukic. He and his cousin were playing in the garden when a rocket propelled grenade exploded close by. Senad sustained serious injuries to his stomach and legs and needed ongoing surgery. I handed him a baseball cap which he immediately placed on his head with a beaming smile.
When I turned to leave, I saw that I wasn't the only one profoundly moved by the moment. The volunteers were watching from the terrace above and many of them were crying.
The following day, we drove to East Mostar to carry out the second part of our mission. There were forty four patients waiting to be evacuated from East Mostar hospital. The odd shell exploded in the distance as the patients were transferred into the Armoured Personnel Carriers. When they were finally ready, I drove ahead and waited at the final checkpoint, afraid that the Croats might still prevent the children from leaving. Only when all the UNPROFOR vehicles had passed safely through the checkpoint did we then follow on behind.
As we arrived at the compound at Metkovic, we were greeted by a wondrous sight. Around forty Operation Angel ambulances were arranged in a large circle like a wagon train camp in a Western. Beside each of the vehicles stood our medical teams, who gently escorted those who could walk while others were borne in on stretchers.
There were tears on the faces of the volunteers as they helped the injured and I heard one of them telling a reporter that despite all the difficulties they encountered, it now seemed worthwhile. As the convoy headed back along the panoramic coast, the sun was setting and in the rear view mirror I could see the flashing blue lights of the ambulances following behind us. And inside each of those vehicles were the children- safe at last.
We drove onto the tarmac at the airport in Split and the patients were transferred to the waiting aircraft. We accompanied them to Italy where another 'plane was waiting to fly us to Britain together with sixteen of our patients.
The flight had been chartered by a team of paediatric specialists who would be involved in the ongoing care of the patients. As we flew towards Britain, I chatted to Senad's older brother who told me that he hoped their elderly mother would join them one day. The children who were well enough to eat were given shepherds pie and cake and some of them were taken to visit the flight deck.
We landed at Birmingham airport to a media scrum and at the press conference a journalist called out; "Sally, the United Nations say they could have done this without you."
"Then why the bloody hell didn't they?" I replied.