On November 20, near the Tacloban airport, the sight is ghostly: in an open space in front of the Chapel of St. Michael the Archangel, next to a half-destroyed building, bags are loaded containing over 50 corpses lying on the ground. The victims died 12 days earlier, but given the initial rush to clear the streets they had to wait almost two weeks before being treated. We arrived here after participating in a mission directed by the Fire Brigade in collaboration with Scena Del Crime Office (SOCO), the police forensic unit. Among us there are also three French firefighters sent to support the government's efforts. From the freezing Alps to the recovery of corpses: it's not a pleasure trip, we're afraid. It is up to groups like this to recover victims who died during the typhoon, perhaps the toughest job in Tacloban. It's a necessary task: for moral reasons and because disease is a real danger in a city where people crowd shelters and live with little clean water. According to Major Rodrigo A Almaden Junior, who heads the local fire department, around 25 bodies are found every day. Tecson John S. Lim, city administrator, told the media that "about 100 bodies are found every day, not counting those in the streets." At the airport, one of the firefighters points to a dilapidated building and indicates that during the typhoon the water reached the roof: there was no escape for those taking refuge inside. As in the case of an old man and a child, probably grandfather and grandson, whose bodies were found still embracing. “They didn't know where to go, the water took them,” says the fireman, his gaze fixed on the destroyed facade. A dark sky looms over us, and after about an hour it starts to rain. Not a… medium of paper… it is the Metropolitan Manila Development Authority (MMDA). Their first task is to clear the streets of debris, but since unpleasant surprises often hide in the areas where they work, they also take care of the bodies found. The MMDA is directed by Ramon Santiago, who informs us that since November 20 they have collected over 800 victims. Mr. Santiago is visibly grateful that that part of their work is now over. His subordinates even more so: as we speak, two men dressed in what is clearly technical equipment – ​​one, for some reason, looks a bit like a professional diver – enter the room where we are sitting and shake everyone's hands before leaving. Mr. Santiago says they are the people in charge of the recovery. “They will return to Manila, they are really happy,” he jokes. They certainly seem happy: their shift at the toughest job in town is finally over.