ABSTRACT
When the first wooden pallet with the bags on it left the back of the aircraft the author knew they were in trouble. The wind took the 50-kilogram bags and blew them right over to where we were standing. Then he heard the horrifying sound of the bags falling behind me. The bags were falling behind me, in front of me, beside him. He could feel, as well as hear, the bags dropping like lead weights. He finally realized that he could not outrun the bags and so he stopped and just waited for all 162 bags to fall. He could hear the Sudanese screaming as they fled the falling bags. What still stands out for me today is the engulfing sound of the bags hitting the ground around me. Then there was an absolute silence like he have never heard in all of the years he have lived in Africa.
