A survivor of the festival attack shared a chilling firsthand account of the tragic events:
“I was present at the festival when the chaos began due to rocket attacks, causing panic and sending everyone scrambling to leave.
We headed towards the main road, only to find a line of cars that appeared to be stuck in a traffic jam. At the end of the line, we saw what we believed to be policemen and soldiers forming a roadblock.
However, these were not law enforcement officers; they were terrorists posing as such.
They chose the moment when a significant number of people were trapped in traffic and then suddenly brandished machine guns, opening fire on the cars. The result was horrifying, with at least 300 lives lost.
Contrary to what’s reported in the news, the reality was far grimmer.
Our vehicle happened to be the last one, so we quickly reversed. Our windshield was pierced by two bullets, one striking Lior in the shoulder, while I sustained injuries from shattered glass in my hands.
We managed to escape, though our car was barely functional. Consulting Waze, Lior suggested heading to the military base: Gaza division. We believed it would be a safe haven.
Little did we know that they had already infiltrated the base earlier that night, ruthlessly killing all the soldiers in their beds, effectively taking control.
We reached the base entrance in our battered car. I saw what I initially thought were soldiers standing there but turned out to be 13 terrorists in a crouched position, armed with AK47s and M16s. They were merely 20 meters away, and they opened fire on us.
Our car was riddled with bullets; every door had bullet holes. I was struck in the head, losing a part of it. Evyatar took a bullet to the pelvis, and Lior was hit in the shoulder.
We were covered in blood, and they threw a grenade at us. Suddenly, I couldn’t hear anything. I looked around, yelling, ‘Lior, get out!’
I grabbed Lior, and we fled the car, all while they continued firing at us. Bullets whizzed past my head and grazed my legs, leaving shrapnel embedded there.
We ran and reached the base’s fence, approximately three meters high, with barbed wire on top. My hands were lacerated as we climbed over.
They persisted in shooting at us, but miraculously, not a single bullet found its mark. We managed to evade their gunfire somehow.
We hid inside a sniper’s bunker for about 3-4 hours, without water, bleeding profusely. I fashioned a makeshift tourniquet for myself, and Lior did the same.
We were convinced that the others had perished behind us, so I couldn’t bring myself to look back.
Then, a team from Shayetet 13 (Israeli navy seals) arrived at the base, plunging us into the midst of a real battle. Another 30-40 soldiers would not make it.
I heard the harrowing sounds of war, with cries of ‘pull back’ and ‘death’ amidst RPG fire, right in the thick of it.
Ultimately, we emerged from the bunker, fearing that our own soldiers might mistake us for terrorists due to our appearance—shirts wrapped around our heads.
We exited with our hands raised, urgently conveying our Israeli identity. They instructed us to lie on the ground for questioning, ensuring we were indeed Israelis. I provided our names and mentioned that we were wounded.
Finally, a helicopter arrived to evacuate some of the injured soldiers. I grasped the soldier’s hands, staring into his eyes, and implored, ‘My brother, I have a little girl at home and a family. You must take me with you on that helicopter.’ He gazed back at me and said, ‘Yalla’ (come on), ‘cooperate.’
So, we cooperated, lifting injured comrades onto our shoulders, while Lior helped with the stretcher, doing our utmost to save lives.
People were shouting at us to hold on tight and not to let them die in our hands; it felt like something out of a movie.
In the end, he took us aboard, and now, thank God, we are on the road to recovery.”
