COLOMBO, Sri Lanka — Each time they take off or land, Air Force HH-60 Pave Hawk helicopters conducting relief in Sri Lanka swirl up a storm of corrosive sand and debris.

At small clearings in the foliage where air crews land to hand supplies to aid workers, people flock — sometimes dangerously close — to the aircraft to say hello.

Maintainers must labor long hours, day after grinding day, in conditions verging on primitive.

And both air crews and maintainers must do this grueling work just weeks after returning from another, similarly rigorous, mission in the Philippines.

For all members of the Kadena, Okinawa-based 33rd Expeditionary Rescue Squadron, working humanitarian relief in Sri Lanka is a battle against the elements, an opportunity to be a helpful part of history — and for some — to acquire bragging rights about surviving a few hair-raising experiences.

The squadron, with members from the 33rd Rescue Squadron and 718th Aircraft Maintenance Squadron and support personnel from the 18th Wing at Kadena Air Base, arrived in Sri Lanka a week ago with six aircraft and about 130 personnel.

Much of the squadron performed a similar mission in December in the Philippines, after heavy rains caused mudslides there, washing away homes, roads and bridges.

The aircraft were back in Okinawa for barely a week before being loaded into cargo planes to head to Sri Lanka — an ops tempo that has taxed aircraft, flight and maintenance crews alike.

Two weeks after the deadly tsunamis, few Sri Lankans still missing are likely to be alive. The unit’s work is focused less on rescue and more on moving as much aid as the helos can carry into remote communities cut off by damaged roads and bridges.

“There’s not a lot of search-and-rescue possibilities,” said Lt. Col. Vic Dallin, operations officer. “It’s now important to get relief out. It’s not as complex as a combat rescue mission.”

But the mission is hard for the maintainers who keep the helos flying. Working conditions are stark but still they must battle corrosive sand, salty air and heavy wear and tear. And hours are long: Along with their 12-hour shifts, maintainers must commute an hour each way in a bus battling Colombo traffic.

In Colombo, aircraft are staged on a dusty field beside a commercial runway so sandy the squadron’s Bobtail truck got stuck twice. That same sand grinds away at motor parts — and what it doesn’t abrade, it clogs.

“Sand gets everywhere,” said Senior Master Sgt. Mark Galatas, aircraft maintenance unit superintendent. “Over an extended period of time it’ll get to be a lot more maintenance.”

Maintainence is done in the field, which means few amenities — like shade.

“When I first got here there were a whole bunch of lobsters working,” said 2nd Lt. Johanna Valenzuela, officer in charge of maintenance.

So far, both aircraft and people are holding up, she said. “I guess the true test will be when we’re here for a while.”

Flight crews have faced their own heart-in-throat challenges, including keeping excited people safe distances away at remote landing zones.

On Friday, a swarm of children at a college sports field rushed one helicopter to shake hands with, and thank, crew members.

A group ran up to and through the aircraft’s open doors, then out the other side while the rotors were going. Some even ran under the aircraft, said squadron commander Lt. Col. Billy Thompson.

It was a frightening few seconds for crew members, who know that many people don’t realize the danger of a helicopter rotor.

“It can be a very uncomfortable situation for everybody,” Thompson said.

As the crew unloaded supplies from the open aircraft, Sri Lankan police held people to the left side at bay, said Capt. Jeff Davies who piloted the helicopter that day.

But on the right, a flight engineer shook hands with one child. It was like a levy breaking.

“They just rushed the helo,” Davies said. “We were concerned” not for the helicopter or supplies but “for their safety. They just wanted to say hello to the flight engineer. They’re not used to being around helicopters.”

Crowds are friendly and inquisitive, crew members said, but haven’t exhibited the same desperate fighting over food that Navy pilots saw in Indonesia.

And the relief operation appears to have smoothed. “The first two days were rough,” Dallin said. Although the supplies were there, “the process was a little slow.”

The aircraft flew the first day to Galle, Sri Lanka’s main southern city and one of the hardest-hit areas. With roads reopened, the mission since has shifted east, along the coast to several remote villages, where landing zones often are nothing more than a cricket green or soccer field carved into the foliage.

Dallin said it’s important to coordinate with relief workers so the effort doesn’t appear a military operation. A Sri Lankan Air Force pilot accompanies each flight to serve as a liaison and bridge any language problems with villages or air traffic controllers.

But some on the relief mission, such as Randy Crockett, a test pilot, also have acquired memories that may remain after the sunburns and fatigue are history.

A damaged part briefly grounded one helicopter Saturday at a remote landing zone — giving four maintenance crew members a rare chance to fly into a tsunami-damaged area to help fix it.

The repair took about an hour, giving the crew time to interact with Sri Lankans that gathered to watch.

Crockett, a civilian with the contract company ARINC and a retired Army chief warrant officer, introduced children to Skittles from a Meal, Ready to Eat pack.

“That’s half the fun of doing this,” Crockett said. “When you come out here you realize what all the training is for.”

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