Among dozens of rows of monster racking and conveyor belts, women in hi-vis vests and protective visors are pulling products from assembly lines and carefully placing them into tote boxes.
The products are familiar: Nurofen, Sensodyne and paracetamol. Others have longer, unpronounceable names, and are addressed to hospitals and pharmacies around the country.
As we pass the final row on the second floor of one of United Drug's 6,700 sq m Citywest warehouses in Dublin, one woman signals to a trio of socially-distancing women who are engaged in chatter, to warn them a manager at the pharmaceutical wholesaler is approaching. The ladies disperse to their sections as quickly as their steel-capped boots will allow.
It's not the most glamorous, or dare we say, exciting, of jobs, but these United Drug warehouse operatives have been deemed essential workers in the fight against Covid-19. They are responsible for picking, packing and delivering 60pc of the country's medical supplies to hospitals, pharmacies, retailers and nursing homes.
And since the pandemic took hold, this 80-strong evening shift team, consisting mainly of women, has been working double shifts, overtime, and sacrificing hours with their families to fulfil orders.
Evening shift warehouse manager Vaida Kareiviene, who has worked at United Drug for 14 years, tells the Irish Independent: "We were not mothers, we were not wives, daughters or friends for those first two months when Covid-19 struck.
"I was only the warehouse manager and the women on my team were only operatives. All we were trying to do was get those orders out."
Those orders Ms Kareiviene refers to mainly consisted of hand sanitiser and face masks, products that were in huge demand when the first wave of Covid-19 sparked a panic-buying frenzy. The warehouse went from selling 100 hand sanitisers a month to 10,000 in one week.
United Drug insists there was no supply issue, rather it was the public's panic-buying which caused a drain on resources.
Procurement manager Stephen Byrne, whose job is to source and purchase product, admits temporary allocations were placed on some retailers, which he says were selling to customers who were stocking up their personal "store cupboards".
"It was more important that the hospitals maintained supply, which they did," says Mr Byrne.
As well as the surge in demand for hand gels, other over-the-counter products, such as Calpol and paracetamol, were flying off the shelves. Vital medicines, such as cancer drugs, still needed to take precedence.
Mr Byrne and the operations team halted the sale of some cosmetic lines to ensure demand was being met, meaning products like fake tan and shampoo were sacrificed.
"We've never seen anything like the volume that was going out," says Mr Byrne, who has also worked at United Drug for 14 years.
"Imagine working six days a week for 12 hours every day. People came to work on their days off," says Ms Kareiviene. "The pressure, the stress, everything was on the highest level. I'd come home at 4am and feel guilty for all those people exhausted who have to wake up in the morning to bring their kids to school, because the schools weren't closed yet. Then they were coming back to work at 4pm to work another 12 hours and it went on and on. The hardest part was not knowing when it would end."
Mr Byrne says the March workload increased by 50pc compared with the company's busy Christmas period, which usually sees capacity at an extra 30pc.
"It went from normal levels to way beyond Christmas in the space of a couple of days," he says. "In this job, we're conscious that these are really important products for customers - we don't want anybody to be without any medicinal product. We're buying something that's going to save someone's life."
Fleet manager at United Drug, Ken Dunphy, increased staff in dispatch by nearly 50pc. Mr Dunphy's team makes two deliveries to around 1,800 pharmacies a day.
During March, deliveries were being made on weekends and public holidays, including St Patrick's Day.
He says the first few weeks of Covid-19 have been the busiest in his 40-year career with United Drug.
"If there's a second wave of Covid-19, we know what to do. It was people panic-buying that was the problem."
The sleepless nights and the late-night phone calls to suppliers have eased for now. But the buying, packing and delivering of vital medical supplies is still a thankless job for many of United Drug's employees.
"I don't think [the general public] even think we exist, to be honest," says Mr Byrne.
"They think there are manufacturers that buy a product and all of a sudden it just arrives at a pharmacy, they don't think of how it actually gets there.
"From our perspective, we know what we do is important. It would be nice for people to understand it. But as long as we know that we're doing the best job that we can, and that we get the products out, then I suppose I'm happy enough."