by Dana Halawi
BEIRUT, May 8 (Xinhua) -- Shelling echoed around Ali and his team as they carried out a rescue mission in the village of Beit Yahoun, southern Lebanon.
The Lebanese Red Cross volunteers were evacuating casualties from an attacked area when a fellow paramedic was struck.
Ali rushed to help his colleague as the mission continued under fire. But despite their efforts, the rescuer died from his injuries before they could get him out of the zone.
"The incident left a deep impact on me," said Ali, a volunteer paramedic at the Lebanese Red Cross center in Tebnine, southern Lebanon, who did not provide his full name. "It reflects the scale of the sacrifices we make."
Months later, the memory remains hard to shake.
Across southern Lebanon, emergency responders have spent months moving between bombed-out villages, answering calls for help while working under the constant shadow of possible attacks.
As the world marks Red Cross and Red Crescent Day on Friday, Lebanese Red Cross volunteers said the conflict in Lebanon has transformed their work into a daily struggle: reaching the wounded while facing growing dangers themselves.
The organization has long been one of Lebanon's primary emergency response bodies, providing ambulance services and humanitarian support through wars and national crises.
But the current conflict has placed unprecedented pressure on paramedics operating in the south, many of whom are responding to attacks in their own towns and communities.
Ali joined the organization in 2015, driven by what he described as a simple humanitarian motive.
"What pushed me was the desire to help people and save lives," he said. "Over time, this work became an essential part of my identity."
Yet neutrality offers no shield. As a matter of fact, the risks have intensified recently.
On April 12, volunteer Hassan Badawi died from injuries sustained in a strike in the Bint Jbeil district.
On April 28, Health Minister Rakan Nasreddine condemned the direct targeting of Civil Defense paramedics during a rescue mission in the village of Majdal Zoun.
According to the minister, since March 2, 103 healthcare workers have been killed in attacks, a toll he said violated international conventions protecting rescue personnel in conflict zones.
For many volunteers, the pressure does not end with a mission.
Amani, a volunteer paramedic in Tyre, was 9 years old when her father suffered a severe heart attack.
"We had no way to help him, but a Lebanese Red Cross team did," recalled Amani, who did not provide her full name. "They saved my father's life, and from that moment I dreamed of joining."
One of her hardest missions during the conflict involved retrieving bodies from a combat zone, Amani recalled.
"It required enormous psychological and physical effort," she said, noting that the challenges have only strengthened her resolve.
Fadl, another volunteer paramedic from Nabatieh, recalled the shock of responding to multiple locations with critically-injured victims at the same time.
"At first there was shock," he said. "But then I quickly focused on the mission."
Among the operations that affected him most was an attack on an animal farm where workers and families had been caught in the crossfire.
"The loss of protection directly affects our work and creates pressure during the response," Fadl said.
For those volunteers, "saving lives," the principle that led them to join the organization, has continued to push them forward despite the increasing dangers.
Still, after months of war, one message has become more urgent than ever.
"Our message is that we are neutral in this conflict and are not targets," Ali said. "We carry out our humanitarian duty impartially to save lives, and we hope this role will be respected and protected." ■
