A day to save Lives

A day to save lives

On March 22, 2016, several hundred people were injured in the Brussels attacks. Those who helped and cared for the victims share their stories.


The Story:

Olivier, Marie-Astrid, and Benoît are doctors. Simon and Eric are nurses. Paul-Henri is a soldier. Marie and Cindy are operating room nurses.


On March 22, they were in Zaventem, Maelbeek, at the Military Hospital, or at the Saint-Pierre University Hospital. They were on the front lines, treating the victims of the Brussels attacks.


Their stories are all different, but they share one common thread. A phrase they all repeat in unison: "We are not heroes, we simply did our job." With determination and composure, despite the strong emotions they were forced to internalize.


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Tearsheet in La Dernière Heure les Sports

Dr. de Villenfagne and his team had to manage around ten critically injured patients at the same time.


"We don't think. We have all these injured people in front of us, and we have to focus on the most urgent: stop the bleeding, help them breathe...


Anyway, all we had were our hands, and we weren't many. In this emergency context, if a patient is speaking, it means they're okay. We focus on the most critical cases. There's so much to do... During the four hours of work, there's no time to feel any emotion."


Once the last patients were transferred to the hospitals, the SMUR team returned to Saint-Pierre. That's when we began to realize what had just happened. "That's when we stop being robots. I kind of collapsed..."


EFFICENCY & FRATERNITY



"We felt a very strong sense of brotherhood," notes Dr. Claessens. "We forgot all disagreements to work together. But you also feel other things—like exhaustion and deep sadness. We saw people in such states... They were still alive but torn apart. You think about what their families must be going through. You reflect and wonder: what if it were my child? What if it were my mother or father? Those moments are intense. Too intense. You can't take them home. You don't want to talk about them with your wife or friends."


"You immediately spot those who falter, those who can’t take the next step. It can happen. We then refer them to professionals."


Dr. Claessens himself went through this in 2014, after the Jewish Museum attack that left four victims.


"I suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. I treated it with three days of hypnosis. But you can never predict how you'll react to the next disaster... Some people handle it without any issue, while others completely lose control."


That day, Benoît held firm—just like all his colleagues.


"At Saint-Pierre, as in every hospital, every possible effort was made to save lives. It's an astonishing and extraordinary human capacity. Instead of bad images, that's what I will remember from March 22."