ISRAEL'S WAR AGAINST HAMAS: A 10/7 SURVIVOR STORY
‘Death Everywhere’ – Married Couple Narrowly Escapes, Hopes for Better Future
Rita Yadid, 33, and her husband Guy, 38, attended the Nova Peace Festival on October 7. Rita “hopes we will become stronger by sharing our story, giving hope to this amazing Jewish community all over the world.”
My husband Guy convinced me that this was one party we couldn’t miss. A huge production never before seen in Israel. We arrived with my sister Eden, who worked in the ticket booth at the entrance.
At 10 p.m. on Friday night, we parked our car right in front of the entrance and waited for the police to allow everyone entry to the festival grounds. At 11:15, we entered the huge area where the stage and grounds were still being set up, with crews working through the wee hours of the night.
We pitched our tent, inflated our double mattress and even put bedding on it to make it comfortable and cozy. Around midnight, we decided to go to bed for a few hours so that we would have enough energy to dance non-stop later on.
We woke up at 4 a.m. and joined in the celebration. We danced, we drank and we couldn't stop smiling! We returned to our tent at 6:30, sat down for a moment to rest, drink and have a bite to eat. Eden, my sister, happened to walk by just then with a drink in her hand, and said hello to us.
At the exact same time, from a small corner of the sky to our left, among the pastoral trees, we heard loud booms, while the speakers echoed loudly to our right. It took us a few minutes to realize that these were not fireworks. Then a Red Alert sounded, indicating incoming rockets. The police ordered the music shut down and told everyone to disperse and head home. The party was over.
Madness erupted. People ran frantically to their cars and left everything behind. Already then, the party area around us began to look like a war zone. Guy and I decided to load the car with our equipment and get ready to move. But we didn't think it was the right time to drive home, figuring that staying put in the party enclosure was probably the safest, so we wouldn’t be caught in the long line of traffic while missiles were raining above. My sister Eden decided at the last minute to join us and return with us to Ashdod – where our parents live.
It was 7:30 in the morning, we were sitting waiting for the missiles to stop, when someone started running back and forth shouting that his brother had just been shot at a gas station near the exit from Kibbutz Re'im. We thought he was hallucinating, that maybe he was high. But sometime later we started hearing gunshots, getting closer and closer.
Eden got very anxious and asked us to go to the command and ambulance area of the festival, where there were still security guards and policemen. The area was full of panicked people, some who had a bad night and we assumed there would be lots of people who could help.
Ten minutes were enough for us to realize that we had to run away from there, as we saw two young girls running into the ambulance area, screaming and crying for help, with gunshot wounds, bleeding all over their bodies. Guy realized that this was not the right place to stay and we started running in the other direction – towards the festival’s entrance.
From the moment I saw those two girls, I couldn't stop shaking with fear. Running with all our might we reached the ticket booth, a mobile trailer with eight windows all across and a door. We saw three guys sitting outside. I sat down next to them and anxiously explained what we saw. I was so nervous that I couldn't continue sitting so I went inside the trailer with Eden and Guy and we laid down on the floor.
Later on, I recognized those three guys on the missing persons list. To this day, I have no idea what happened to them.
We heard screaming, as the gunshots got closer and louder. Suddenly, someone was pounding on the window – a boy named Gal, who asked us to let him hide inside. He was followed by two others, Michael and Tomer. We all laid down on the floor, convincing each other to just urinate on ourselves so as not to make any noise. We just couldn't hold our pee anymore.
All the shame disappeared instantaneously the moment bullets began to spray our trailer. Guy immediately laid on top of me and protected me with his body.
“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, Itbach el Yahud, Itbach el Yahud” (“Allah is great, slaughter the Jews”) the damn terrorists kept screaming and chanting.
The bullets penetrated the trailer. Then silence. We didn’t dare utter a word. Smell of gunpowder. Water dripped directly down my face. We kept our mouths shut. Barely breathing, quietly making sure that everyone was still alive.
Gal was hit by a bullet to his knees, blood spilled out of him like water. Eden and Michael tied what they could find around his knee. I couldn’t stop shaking, and suddenly we realized that Guy was injured. A bullet penetrated his hip and also began to trickle down on us. I looked over my left shoulder and I just couldn't move, function, or breathe.
We still had our phones and sent our family as many updates as we could, telling them how we were doing, begging them to send forces to help us get out alive.
At around 11:30 a.m., we saw the shadow of someone peering into the trailer from the window behind us and, after noticing our presence, he went to the windows opposite us, and saw us all laying there, bleeding, crying.
I was sure that he was from the security forces because he wore a military jacket and had a radio. Guy said straight away – he’s a terrorist! “Money, money, telephone, telephone!” the terrorist from Gaza shouted as he robbed us. We tossed him everything we had and he left. The earth must have swallowed him. We didn't hear him again, we didn't see him, and no one came to kidnap us.
All contact with our parents was then cut off, and we were left frightened, trembling, and confident that we would never get out alive. Then silence set in, deafening silence. I fell asleep. We all fell asleep – our body's defense mechanism helped us pass the time which felt like an eternity. I woke up to the sound of a helicopter, coming and going. I begged G-d to get us out of there for OM, we didn't move.
Suddenly, we heard: "White shirt running away – shots – 50 meters, 20 meters." Michael shouted "Help", and we immediately told him, "Quiet". We were afraid that those were more terrorists looking for Jews who were still alive.
I couldn’t resist and lifted my head up and saw them, our soldiers, coming to save us. We called out to them that we were Israelis and opened the door to the trailer. I hugged the soldier so tightly, he gave me my breath again. By then it was 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and we couldn't believe everything we saw around us.
Bodies everywhere, destruction, fires, guys and girls bleeding from every possible area of their body. And soldiers. Lots of soldiers who came to save us. We immediately called our parents to let them know we were still alive. My mother broke down on the phone and cried and cried out to G-d with thanks.
It took a long time until all the wounded were evacuated to the hospital, first the most urgent cases. During that time, I held the hand of Na’ama, who survived after being hit with three bullets, and gave a pillow to a guy who was shot in the buttocks. Anyone who had previous experience whether from the military or civilian life tried to help.
Guy was evacuated to Soroka Hospital in Be’er Sheva, and Eden and I were left alone with the other, non-critical, survivors. Finally, around 3:30, a vehicle arrived to take the rest of us. We all packed into the van on top of each other and headed towards Moshav Patish.
The horrors we saw on the way out were unbearable. I couldn't watch but there was no way to miss it.
Death.
Everywhere.
Children who will never return home to their parents.
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