At 4.33am last Sunday, a Government Flying Service (GFS) helicopter took off from Cheung Chau with a heavily pregnant 26-year-old woman aboard. They landed on Hong Kong, she was transferred to hospital; mother and baby are doing fine.
It was totally routine. So were most of the other 15 weekend assignments handled by GFS. They picked up hikers with broken ankles, old ladies with stomach cramps, an elderly disoriented hill walker and a missing two-year-old boy.
They water-bombed fires that threatened houses near Tin Shui Wai and saved precious bushland on Lantau. A Super Puma helicopter did a long-range medical evacuation from a ship 354km south of Hong Kong, the fringe of effective range, to pick up a seaman with acute appendicitis.
It was business and bravery as normal for our guardians in the skies. Their work is largely unseen and unsung. Risking their lives in service to the community is a daily occurrence. What to others would be heroism of the highest order is to them just a day's work. They are an admirable corps of mostly young men and women.
For an organisation that deals daily with life-threatening rescues, GFS keeps a low profile. To many, the image of the government's aviation arm is the familiar sight of a helicopter with a bucket of water slung below heading for a hill fire. That's just the visible tip of their duties. Most is done out of sight, at night, far from Hong Kong shores.
The search-and-rescue responsibilities embrace most of the South China Sea and have an enormous economic impact on our importance as the premier regional port. You can't be the major container port on Earth and not do your bit to keep shipping lanes safe for mariners.
