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eased condition levers into idle cutoff and the Hartzell propellers halted. An ambulatory patient emerged from a Land Rover carrying his own intravenous bag but before he boarded, a nurse stabbed a hypodermic syringe into his forearm.
Every trip carried a sense of urgency. Twice daily flights, sometimes three, took place from N’Djamena and logbook hours did not reflect the waiting, loading and servicing. Most airstrips lacked windsocks. Determining landing direction entailed overflying communities or refugee camps to search for rags, tents or cattle facing into the wind.
One flight to Iriba (37 miles from the Sudanese border) after dropping off journalists, we aborted start when the Doctors Without Borders truck nearly bumped our left wingtip. A nurse asked if we could handle an extra patient and pointed across the truck tailgate to a teenager who had been shot in the face by Janjaweed (tribal militia). A passenger stepped forward to volunteer his space and the boy shuffled to the airplane with a friend for support on each side.
Thirty miles east of N’Djamena, we deviated past thunderstorms. During the wet season, up to 185 mm (7.3 inches) of “liquid hell” flooded shacks, collapsed tents and stagnated surface transport. In our King Air
OCTOBER 2022
KING AIR MAGAZINE • 11