The trucker’s mood in Sarajevo was confidently f

The trucker’s mood in Sarajevo was confidently
fatalistic.

‘If your time is up you can’t do anything about it,’
quipped Ray Dann matter of factly.

Two days earlier a Danish aid convoy leader was horribly
injured and his local interpreter killed when their vehicle
took a direct hit from a shell.

The incident brought home with deadly force the ever-present
danger faced by the drivers who daily ferry life saving supplies
to besieged inhabitants of the Bosnian capital of Sarajevo.

As a mark of respect the British drivers closed down their
operation for half-a-day.

Within hours of hearing about the tragedy
they had a spontaneous whipround for the wife and three children
of the dead man.

‘The interpreters don’t have any insurance.

.

.

.

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at least if
something happens to one of us our family get a quarter of million
pounds from the (British) government,’ said another driver.

A couple of hours before tragedy struck the Danish convoy
near what is left of the ancient Moslem city of Mostar the British
convoy – Red Team – had come under fire.

It is impossible to say who was firing or whether the shells
and mortars were deliberately aimed.

It is academic and none the
less deadly through lack of intent.

One shell landed 30 feet from Frank Baillie’s lorry.

Another
crashed with deafening power behind No 10 the last truck driven by
Mick Judge, 28, from Worcester.

Ray Dann, 42, from Poole, Dorset was left deafened for a day
after catching the blast from another.

The drivers laughed over Judge’s reaction.

‘Noisy bastards,’
he remarked over the two-way radio, before turning up the volume on
his music cassette and driving like the clappers.

The cardinal rule is never to stop if you get shot at
or caught up in cross fire.

That lesson was graphically illustrated
by the fatal incident with the Danish convoy.

They were forced to a halt by an unofficial convoy on the
Mostar Road which stopped when shelling erupted.

Many of the drivers now based in Metkovic, southern Croatia –
150 kilometres from Split – are ex-military.

They arrived in the former Yugoslavia at the start of the
year after replacement drivers were recruited.

Up until then
the majority of were civilian HGV truckers.

The harrowing conditions had led many new men to call
it a day after just one run, while others simply did not have the
exceptional driving skills essential for job.

The civilian truckers still on the Sarajevo-Mostar run have
been working on the ODA (Overseas Development Administration)
financed convoys since last summer.

Their proven courage and skill are inspirational.

Slightly built Baillie, is one of the original civilian drivers.

A quiet and sensitive man he has had more than his fair share
of close shaves.

On a recent convoy over the mountains he was heard to calmly
announce over the radio: ‘I’ve gone off the road.

‘
The following trucker, Ian Flower, 32, from Taunton, Somerset
expected to see him in a ditch.

‘One and two had gone down and they had packed the snow and ice
on the mountain road.

As Frank followed on his vehicle must have
hit a rock which sent the truck skidding,’ explained Flower who spent
16-years with the Royal Corps of Transport.

In fact Baillie’s lorry had gone right off the road and was
hanging perilously over a 350 foot drop.

A solitary birch tree a few feet below road level had miraculously
stopped the DAF after it went over the edge.

‘It was a rude awakening, but Frank was just so calm, like
always.

Then I thought God I have got to go down there in a few
minutes,’ continued Flower.

A typical run to Sarajevo sets off at about 11am.

The earlier
part of the morning having been spent loading up the DAF 3300 ATI
turbo diesel lorries.

Each driver runs a routine check on his rear wheel drive vehicle
and ensures that each has his kit comprising bullet proof jacket, steel
helmet, sleeping bag, warm clothing and food on board.

Their engines warmed up convoy leader Eric Smith, 41, and his
deputy Chris Eley, 34, drive to the gates of the warehouse in their
Land Rover Discovery.

After confirming that each trucker’s radio is working the
crackled command: ‘Let’s roll.

.

.

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‘ echoes down the line.

‘Into hell,’ mutters one of them.

The first stretch is the easy part and the ten truck convoy
snakes comfortably through the villages and countryside on
tarmac roads.

At first the rise is gradual but when the vehicles hit the
unmade roads the ascent into the sparsely inhabited mountains begins
in earnest.

Each truck is laden with 15 tons of aid – the loads vary
according to what is needed – this time they are carrying milk
powder, flour and sugar.

A new route is being used to avoid Mostar which is still
reported to be tense and subject to shelling and sniper fire.

A quarter of a mile ahead the highly regarded Discovery
2.

5 Turbo Diesel TDI ensures the way is clear, stopping oncoming
vehicles with the help of their interpreter where necessary.

The nervewracking journey takes the convoy over jagged
stone mountain roads and single lane mud tracks.

With amazing
skill the truckers manouevre round hairpin bends, overhanging
sheer drops into beautiful valleys nestling hundreds of metres
below.

The vehicles trundle on stoppping just once when one got
a ‘blow out.

‘ Half-an-hour later they are on the move again.

High in the mountains tiny settlements looking as if they
belong to a different age nestle on plateaux.

The stone walled, coarsely thatched dwellings appear deserted,
but the lie is given to that by the carefully tendered plots of
green.

A few miles further on the convoy was brought abruptly back
into the 20th century by a gleaming Porsche which appeared from
nowhere and sped past.

The camaraderie among the team is refreshing and from time
to time the banter echoes over the airwaves.

Sometimes the chatter has to be brought to an end in case it
interferes with an important message from the convoy leader.

The order for silence is not met with any resentment each
man responding and realising the importance of maintaining a
highly professional and disciplined approach to the job.

As the convoy approaches the last mountainous stretch
before running down into Kiseljak where they have an overnight
stop before going into Sarajevo the convoy leader was warned that
the road ahead was mined after dusk.

And as night began to fall Eric Smith, a former para from
Aldershot, Hants.

, climbed from behind the wheel of the Discovery.

Walking on ahead he painstakingly inspected the last stretch
of track for mines.

‘Don’t forget to put your fingers in your ears,’ joked one
of the truckers.

All was clear and just before 7pm the convoy rolled into
Kiseljak.

A meal at the UN base and a round of Trivial Pursuit later
the men – aptly described as ‘The Unsung Heroes’ – were climbing
into the cabin of their trucks for the night.

Before dawn they were back on the road.

Thirty minutes later they were lined up at the first Serbian
checkpoint in the hills outside the city.

The bitter cold of the
morning penetrated deep while all around the beautiful countryside
lay swathed in early mist.

The landscape glistened frostily and still.

It was early
yet and the merchants of death were silent.

For over an hour the convoy was held up at the checkpoint and
armed soldiers insisted on checking the load on one lorry.

But the soldiers have come to know the drivers and for the
most part the UNHCR (United Nations High Commission for Refugees)
workers are respected and not subjected to the same hostility, from
all factions, as the UN (UNPROFOR, United Nations Protection Force)
troops.

Here the truckers don their bullet proof jackets and helmets.

Eventually they are given the go ahead and with an armed
UN escort of APCs (armoured personnel carriers) they move through
the devastated city.

At the end of the notorious sniper alley – the road running
alongside the wide open space next to the airport – they pause.

Then foot flat down to the floor they roar off and by 11am
are unloading.

Within the hour they are on the move again.

It is essential
to be well clear of the city before the regular late afternoon
bombardment begins.

Sometimes shelling and sniper fire erupts while the convoy
is in the city.

Recently when trouble blew-up the truckers were
evacuated on an RAF Hercules transport which thrice daily flies in
humanitarian aid.

The team spent the evening in Zagreb with another group of
ODA drivers based there and were ‘spoilt’ with a Chinese meal.

Early the next morning they flew back and were pleased to
find their trucks undamaged.

The ODA – the aid wing of the Foreign Office – funds the
operation now in the hands of the Crown Agents.

Alan Mathews for the Crown Agents based at Sutton, Surrey, says
they have many applicants on file, but anyone with the appropriate
experience is welcome to submit their CV.

Since February 1992 when the UN appealed for humanitarian
help for the former Yugoslavia, Britain has provided over pnds stlng
70.

5 million for relief operations.

The ODA’s priority is to get goods through to where they are
needed as quickly and efficiently as possible.

They have taken a
particular lead on the provision of trucks and medical supplies.

For the most part the British aid convoys – the second team
based in the Croatian captial of Zagreb operates in northern and
western Bosnia – have no UN military escort.

The humanitarian aid workers, the truck drivers in particular,
have succeeded in breaking down any hostile barriers and are for the
most part highly regarded by those on all sides.

The characters of the truckers do not appear to conform to
any stereotype.

But all share the same understated decency and humanity which
expresses itself in many different ways.

The one thing that they are all assured is a place in the
hearts of the people they touch.

What began as ‘just a job’ has changed their lives and all
are agreed the satisfaction they have gained from the job has
outweighed the danger and emotional hardships.

ENDS