For almost 15 years, Sweden operated a hospital in Lebanon under UNIFIL’s mandate — the Swedish Medical Company, or Swed Med Coy. It was a large facility equipped with helicopter landing pads, ambulances, dental care facilities, operating theatres, a pharmacy and much more.

In 1984, L09 treated approximately 800 patients seeking medical care each month. Just over a year later, when L11 had taken over, the figure had risen to more than 1,000 patients per month. The Swedish medical personnel were capable of treating everything from minor infections to complex kidney operations.

UNIFIL was operating in a war-torn and unstable region, and this reality was reflected in the types of injuries that patients at Swed Med Coy frequently needed treatment for. Emergency cases involving gunshot and shrapnel wounds were part of everyday life. When the alarm was raised, medical personnel had to be ready within just a few minutes.

The evening of 4 April 1984 began like any other for Ibrahim Ayoub. He was at home with his heavily pregnant wife, Masdih. Neither of them was a combatant or associated in any way with either side of the conflict.

Gunfire was a frequent occurrence, and that night was no exception. Suddenly, a bullet tore through the wall and struck Ibrahim in the thigh. It passed straight through his lower abdomen, causing life-threatening injuries. The alarm was raised, and Italair managed to collect Ibrahim and transport him to Swed Med Coy in just half an hour.

The trauma surgeons worked throughout the night. They estimated his chances of survival at around 50 per cent. The operation went as well as could possibly have been hoped. Ibrahim survived and appeared to be beginning his recovery.

However, the danger was far from over. Just a few days later, he required another emergency operation after suffering a major haemorrhage from a blood vessel. He survived this ordeal too, and his slow recovery could begin. Ibrahim had to remain in hospital until the end of May. Masdih, who was eight months pregnant, never left her husband's side throughout the entire ordeal.

The story had an almost unbelievably perfect ending. On 23 May, the doctors decided that Ibrahim was strong enough to return home. At 2.10 a.m. on 24 May, surgeon Douglas Falk delivered the couple's daughter. Ibrahim was deeply grateful to the staff at Swed Med Coy and described the care he had received as excellent. He praised the medical personnel for their discipline and expertise.

Ibrahim promised that he would tell his children and grandchildren how well he had been cared for. His injuries had not dampened his spirits. He chatted cheerfully with the staff and enjoyed spending time with his wife. Their newborn daughter, Eva, was naturally the centre of attention.

“Stories like this are, in themselves, sufficient justification for our presence in Lebanon. Without Swed Med Coy, Ibrahim would almost certainly not have survived, and yet another Lebanese family tragedy would have become a reality.

Instead, life triumphed over death, in the form of a newborn child and a healed human body.”

There are many other stories like Ibrahim's. The work of Swed Med Coy produced excellent results and helped establish a positive reputation for the Swedish presence in the region. The Swedish personnel went beyond what was strictly required of them under their assigned duties and instructions.

Jan Anderlund, who was serving in the area as a UN observer, describes in his autobiographical book A Swedish UN Observer Recounts His Experiences in Syria, Lebanon and Israel (Svensk FN-observatör i Mellersta Östern berättar från Syrien, Libanon och Israel) how this directly affected him in his work.

“On several occasions, I personally received support and backup in threatening situations from local people who explained to the leaders of various small 'terrorist groups' (or their equivalents) among the villagers that I was Swedish and that I was not to be touched, but should be allowed to pass through and carry out my duties.”