25 jan 2009
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White Phosphorus as a Weapon
White phosphorus (WP) is a flare- and smoke-producing incendiary device[1] or smoke-screening agent that is made from a common allotrope of the chemical element phosphorus. The main utility of white phosphorus munitions is to create smokescreens to mask movement from the enemy, or to mask his fire. In contrast to other smoke-causing munitions, WP detonates immediately causing an instant bank of smoke. As a result of this, WP munitions are very common -- particularly as smoke grenades for infantry; loaded in defensive grenade dischargers on tanks and other armored vehicles; or as part of the ammunition allotment for artillery or mortars. However, white phosphorus has a secondary effect. While much less efficient than ordinary fragmentation effects in causing casualties, white phosphorus burns quite fiercely and can set cloth, fuel, ammunition and other combustibles on fire. |
It also can function as an anti-personnel weapon with the compound capable of causing serious burns or death.[2] The agent is used in bombs, artillery, and mortars, short-range missiles which burst into burning flakes of phosphorus upon impact. White phosphorus is commonly referred to in military jargon as "WP". The slang term "Willy(ie) Pete" or "Willy(ie) Peter", dating from World War I and common at least through the Vietnam War, is still occasionally heard.
White phosphorus weapons are controversial today because of their potential use against civilians. While the Chemical Weapons Convention does not designate WP as a chemical weapon, various groups consider it to be one. In recent years, the United States, Israel, and Russia have used white phosphorus in combat.
White phosphorus weapons are controversial today because of their potential use against civilians. While the Chemical Weapons Convention does not designate WP as a chemical weapon, various groups consider it to be one. In recent years, the United States, Israel, and Russia have used white phosphorus in combat.
24 jan 2009
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Mohammed Kutkut, 14, covers his face as he sits next to the name sign of his friend, Ahed Qaddas, on Saturday in the Fakhoura boys school
Tens of thousands of children returned to schools across Gaza on Saturday after three weeks of war, playing games for some relief from the devastation and telling friends and teachers about the explosions they heard and relatives they lost. In one classroom, signs with the names of three 14-year-old boys killed in the fighting were set on their desks — and their deskmates sat with stunned expressions next to the empty seats as the teacher encouraged the class to talk about their experiences. |
"It's very hard when one used to see 30 students in class, and after what happened, I see 27," their teacher, Bassam Salha, told the class at the U.N.'s Fakhoura Elementary school. "We lived three weeks in sadness. I want you students to help me to get out of the sad mood I am in now."
Meanwhile, an Israeli foreign office official said President Barack Obama's newly appointed special envoy to the Middle East is expected in Israel on Wednesday for talks on reviving Mideast peace negotiations after the Gaza fighting and on ensuring an arms blockade on the territory's Hamas rulers.
George J. Mitchell will meet with Israel's prime minister and other leaders, as well as the Palestinian president and prime minister in the West Bank, the official said, speaking on condition of anonymity because there has not yet been an announcement from Washington. The White House and State Department declined to comment.
Also Saturday, international aid organizations called for the unfettered entry of humanitarian and building supplies into Gaza. The territory's borders with Israel and Egypt have remained largely closed since a cease-fire took hold earlier this week, though supply convoys have been able to come through.
In Israel, the defense minister was to propose to the Cabinet on Sunday that the government provide "moral and legal support" for officers in potential court cases related to the war's conduct
Return to normalcy
The reopening of schools, a week after a tentative cease-fire, marked a small step back to normalcy for Gaza's 1.4 million residents. Israel had launched a 22-day air and ground assault, aimed at stopping rocket fire by Gaza militants on southern Israel.
Some 280 children were among the 1,285 Palestinians killed in the offensive, according to the Palestinian Center for Human Rights. Thirteen Israelis, including three civilians, were also killed during the fighting.
Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert has expressed regret over the deaths of civilians, but Israel blamed the deaths on Hamas, saying its fighters used civilians, schools and mosques to shield themselves.
The scores of schools run by the United Nations — which are attended by 200,000 children — reopened along with Gaza's public schools, which Hamas has run since seizing the territory in 2007.
"Getting these children back to school was our absolute priority," John Ging, Gaza head of the U.N. agency that cares for Palestinian refugees, told the Associated Press.
In one school, first-grade girls with white ribbons in their hair swept shattered glass from the courtyard. More than 30 U.N. schools were damaged in the fighting.
The schools were also used as makeshift refuges by tens of thousands of Gazans fleeing clashes between Israeli forces and Palestinian militants in border areas, and by others whose homes were destroyed in the fighting.
Remembering friends
At the Fakhoura Elementary school in the town of Jebaliya, volunteers from an Islamic aid organization led the children through a series of songs and clapping games in the courtyard.
Talking to his students, Salha recalled the three lost classmates, calling one, Ahed al-Quddas a "very naughty student, but he was light-hearted." Another, Bashar Naji, "was always giving the right answers," he added.
One of Naji's friends spoke up.
"I don't know what I'm going to do after him — he used to help me in answers and the others at the same time."
During the fighting, Palestinian militants fired rockets from next to the school, where hundreds of Gazans had huddled, according to witnesses. Israeli forces responded with mortars that hit near the school and killed 42 people, most civilians.
At the Asma elementary school in the Shati refugee camp, three blood stains and a large hole in the bathroom wall marked the spot where a Jan. 5 missile strike made a direct hit and killed three boys, ages 10, 17 and 19. The three, who were among hundreds taking refuge at the school, were using their cell phones to light the way to the bathroom when struck, witnesses said.
Hundreds of students sat in the courtyard, eating U.N.-provided bread, cheese and cucumbers. Many had lost relatives.
Fifth-grader Noor Abdel-Ali, said two of her brothers were killed in the first day of airstrikes. Suhaib, 30, was working at a police station that was bombed, and Yousef, 18, was in the Internal Security building when it was hit, she said.
"I feel alone because they used to come visit me at school," said Noor, 10. "My friends are around me here, but I'm still sad that they died."
Israel ready to defend soldiers
Meanwhile, the Israeli Defense Ministry said it would ask the Cabinet at its weekly meeting Sunday to provide legal support to army officers in potential court cases resulting from the war's conduct.
Defense Minister Ehud Barak said that the war on Hamas Israel was exercising "the right, indeed the obligation, of any country, under international law to defend itself and its citizens."
Israeli, Palestinian and international human rights groups have said they are seeking to build a case that Israel violated the laws of war. The groups are focusing on suspicions that Israel used disproportionate force in its onslaught and failed to protect civilians.
Israel, which denies any violations, is gearing up to protect its soldiers from any attempted prosecution, including with Barak's motion to the Cabinet. The rights groups say it is too early to say if they would seek any such prosecution, and it is not clear at what court it could be attempted.
Half a dozen international aid groups called for the free passage of humanitarian aid and construction materials through Israel's border crossings with Gaza.
The Israeli army said more than 125 trucks a day — on some days nearly 200 — have entered Gaza since fighting ended on Jan. 17.
"We are looking at providing (aid) for months and even years to come," said Mohammed Ali Abu Najila of Oxfam told a news conference at Gaza City's Shifa Hospital. "Lives are hanging in the balance and they depend on unrestricted humanitarian access and increasing funding."
The border crossings are a central issue in efforts to work out a long-term cease-fire. Israel and Egypt had enforced a border blockade following the Hamas takeover in 2007, and have said they will only open the gates if Hamas accepts the deployment of border monitors, as a way of halting weapons smuggling.
Hamas spokesman Fawzi Barhoum said a Hamas delegation to Cairo would discuss this and other issues with Egyptian leaders to create a detailed agreement.
Meanwhile, an Israeli foreign office official said President Barack Obama's newly appointed special envoy to the Middle East is expected in Israel on Wednesday for talks on reviving Mideast peace negotiations after the Gaza fighting and on ensuring an arms blockade on the territory's Hamas rulers.
George J. Mitchell will meet with Israel's prime minister and other leaders, as well as the Palestinian president and prime minister in the West Bank, the official said, speaking on condition of anonymity because there has not yet been an announcement from Washington. The White House and State Department declined to comment.
Also Saturday, international aid organizations called for the unfettered entry of humanitarian and building supplies into Gaza. The territory's borders with Israel and Egypt have remained largely closed since a cease-fire took hold earlier this week, though supply convoys have been able to come through.
In Israel, the defense minister was to propose to the Cabinet on Sunday that the government provide "moral and legal support" for officers in potential court cases related to the war's conduct
Return to normalcy
The reopening of schools, a week after a tentative cease-fire, marked a small step back to normalcy for Gaza's 1.4 million residents. Israel had launched a 22-day air and ground assault, aimed at stopping rocket fire by Gaza militants on southern Israel.
Some 280 children were among the 1,285 Palestinians killed in the offensive, according to the Palestinian Center for Human Rights. Thirteen Israelis, including three civilians, were also killed during the fighting.
Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert has expressed regret over the deaths of civilians, but Israel blamed the deaths on Hamas, saying its fighters used civilians, schools and mosques to shield themselves.
The scores of schools run by the United Nations — which are attended by 200,000 children — reopened along with Gaza's public schools, which Hamas has run since seizing the territory in 2007.
"Getting these children back to school was our absolute priority," John Ging, Gaza head of the U.N. agency that cares for Palestinian refugees, told the Associated Press.
In one school, first-grade girls with white ribbons in their hair swept shattered glass from the courtyard. More than 30 U.N. schools were damaged in the fighting.
The schools were also used as makeshift refuges by tens of thousands of Gazans fleeing clashes between Israeli forces and Palestinian militants in border areas, and by others whose homes were destroyed in the fighting.
Remembering friends
At the Fakhoura Elementary school in the town of Jebaliya, volunteers from an Islamic aid organization led the children through a series of songs and clapping games in the courtyard.
Talking to his students, Salha recalled the three lost classmates, calling one, Ahed al-Quddas a "very naughty student, but he was light-hearted." Another, Bashar Naji, "was always giving the right answers," he added.
One of Naji's friends spoke up.
"I don't know what I'm going to do after him — he used to help me in answers and the others at the same time."
During the fighting, Palestinian militants fired rockets from next to the school, where hundreds of Gazans had huddled, according to witnesses. Israeli forces responded with mortars that hit near the school and killed 42 people, most civilians.
At the Asma elementary school in the Shati refugee camp, three blood stains and a large hole in the bathroom wall marked the spot where a Jan. 5 missile strike made a direct hit and killed three boys, ages 10, 17 and 19. The three, who were among hundreds taking refuge at the school, were using their cell phones to light the way to the bathroom when struck, witnesses said.
Hundreds of students sat in the courtyard, eating U.N.-provided bread, cheese and cucumbers. Many had lost relatives.
Fifth-grader Noor Abdel-Ali, said two of her brothers were killed in the first day of airstrikes. Suhaib, 30, was working at a police station that was bombed, and Yousef, 18, was in the Internal Security building when it was hit, she said.
"I feel alone because they used to come visit me at school," said Noor, 10. "My friends are around me here, but I'm still sad that they died."
Israel ready to defend soldiers
Meanwhile, the Israeli Defense Ministry said it would ask the Cabinet at its weekly meeting Sunday to provide legal support to army officers in potential court cases resulting from the war's conduct.
Defense Minister Ehud Barak said that the war on Hamas Israel was exercising "the right, indeed the obligation, of any country, under international law to defend itself and its citizens."
Israeli, Palestinian and international human rights groups have said they are seeking to build a case that Israel violated the laws of war. The groups are focusing on suspicions that Israel used disproportionate force in its onslaught and failed to protect civilians.
Israel, which denies any violations, is gearing up to protect its soldiers from any attempted prosecution, including with Barak's motion to the Cabinet. The rights groups say it is too early to say if they would seek any such prosecution, and it is not clear at what court it could be attempted.
Half a dozen international aid groups called for the free passage of humanitarian aid and construction materials through Israel's border crossings with Gaza.
The Israeli army said more than 125 trucks a day — on some days nearly 200 — have entered Gaza since fighting ended on Jan. 17.
"We are looking at providing (aid) for months and even years to come," said Mohammed Ali Abu Najila of Oxfam told a news conference at Gaza City's Shifa Hospital. "Lives are hanging in the balance and they depend on unrestricted humanitarian access and increasing funding."
The border crossings are a central issue in efforts to work out a long-term cease-fire. Israel and Egypt had enforced a border blockade following the Hamas takeover in 2007, and have said they will only open the gates if Hamas accepts the deployment of border monitors, as a way of halting weapons smuggling.
Hamas spokesman Fawzi Barhoum said a Hamas delegation to Cairo would discuss this and other issues with Egyptian leaders to create a detailed agreement.
22 jan 2009
10 injured today during “ceasefire”
Ahmad Hassaneen, 7 years old
This is Ahmad Hassaneen, from Shayjaiee in East Gaza, near to the border. He was shot in the head about 9.45am today while playing with other children.
Dr Fawzi Nabusi holds the x-ray showing the bullet in his brain. He is currently in a coma in Al Shifa hospital.
This is Ahmad Hassaneen, from Shayjaiee in East Gaza, near to the border. He was shot in the head about 9.45am today while playing with other children.
Dr Fawzi Nabusi holds the x-ray showing the bullet in his brain. He is currently in a coma in Al Shifa hospital.
Yasser Abd, 15
Israeli gunboat shelling and shooting from the sea, Jan 22, Al Mina
This is Yasser Abd, age 15. He was shot this morning in Shatr camp at around 7am. He’d heard shelling from the sea, went outside to see what was happening, and was shot in the head.
Two girls of 4 and 5, and a man, all from Shatr camp, were all hit as well.
Dr Hassan Khalif, Director of Al Shifa hospital, tells us that since the “ceasefire”, three people have been killed, and 15 injured. 10 of these were injured today on the 22nd and 5 of them were fishermen.
I was visiting the Kabarit family this morning during the shelling, and I took this photo from the window. The white foam in the top of the picture is from the Israeli gunboat; I had not seen it this close to the shore before.
Israeli gunboat shelling and shooting from the sea, Jan 22, Al Mina
This is Yasser Abd, age 15. He was shot this morning in Shatr camp at around 7am. He’d heard shelling from the sea, went outside to see what was happening, and was shot in the head.
Two girls of 4 and 5, and a man, all from Shatr camp, were all hit as well.
Dr Hassan Khalif, Director of Al Shifa hospital, tells us that since the “ceasefire”, three people have been killed, and 15 injured. 10 of these were injured today on the 22nd and 5 of them were fishermen.
I was visiting the Kabarit family this morning during the shelling, and I took this photo from the window. The white foam in the top of the picture is from the Israeli gunboat; I had not seen it this close to the shore before.
21 jan 2009
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Impact of the white phosphorus on the human body from alleged Israeli attack
A second film reveals the impact of the white phosphorus on the human body. A 15-year-old boy is shown in a Gaza hospital receiving treatment for burns to his back and right arm which a doctor explains were caused by the chemical, which appears to have eaten into his flesh in several places. Lying on his hospital bed, the boy tells how he was sitting with his family in their four-storey house when an Israeli bomb hit, killing his sister with shrapnel. His testimony follows an earlier film by Qishta which contains graphic descriptions of attacks by Israeli forces in the same area. Amnesty International said today that Israel has committed a war crime by using phosphorous over Gaza's densely populated residential neighbourhoods. |
The human rights organisation also said they had fresh evidence of its use.
"Yesterday, we saw streets and alleyways littered with evidence of the use of white phosphorus, including still burning wedges and the remnants of the shells and canisters fired by the Israeli army," said Christopher Cobb-Smith, a weapons expert who is in Gaza as part of a four-person Amnesty International fact-finding team. "White phosphorus is a weapon intended to provide a smokescreen for troop movements on the battlefield. It is highly incendiary, air burst and its spread effect is such that it that should never be used on civilian areas."
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"Yesterday, we saw streets and alleyways littered with evidence of the use of white phosphorus, including still burning wedges and the remnants of the shells and canisters fired by the Israeli army," said Christopher Cobb-Smith, a weapons expert who is in Gaza as part of a four-person Amnesty International fact-finding team. "White phosphorus is a weapon intended to provide a smokescreen for troop movements on the battlefield. It is highly incendiary, air burst and its spread effect is such that it that should never be used on civilian areas."
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WHITE PHOSPHOROUS 5 days after still smoldering in the UN compound
Five days after the UN Relief and Works Agency's field office in Gaza City was set ablaze by a barrage of white phosphorous shells in the morning of the 15 January, phosphorous fire was still smoldering in the compound today (20 January), as UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon came to see the destruction for himself. Speaking to reporters outside the UNRWA compound, Ban condemned the attack on UNRWA in the strongest possible terms. UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon: "It's particularly significant for me as Secretary General of the United Nations to stand in front of this bombed site of a United Nations compound. I'm just appalled, I'm not able to describe how I feel, having seen this site of the bombing of the United Nations |
compound. Everyone is smelling, this is still burning. This is an outrageous and totally unacceptable attack against the United Nations."
UNRWA's two main warehouses, as well as the workshop serving its fleet of cars and trucks in Gaza, were destroyed in the fire.
A major explosion was close, as the flames at one stage was only 30 meters from five fuel tankers parked close to the fires.
Thousands of tons of food and medicine, intended for distribution among the more than 800 000 Palestine refugees dependent on UNRWA, were destroyed.
Used cartridges of the white phosphorous shells were found in among the destroyed buildings.
UNRWA's two main warehouses, as well as the workshop serving its fleet of cars and trucks in Gaza, were destroyed in the fire.
A major explosion was close, as the flames at one stage was only 30 meters from five fuel tankers parked close to the fires.
Thousands of tons of food and medicine, intended for distribution among the more than 800 000 Palestine refugees dependent on UNRWA, were destroyed.
Used cartridges of the white phosphorous shells were found in among the destroyed buildings.
Jan 21: Reem’s story
Today I met with my friend Reem. She is 21 and works with Mercycorps, and we met when she came to interview me after I arrived on the initial FreeGaza trip. She was so bright and sparkly then, and I know that is still in her somewhere, but right now she is very fragile. She didn’t realise I was back in the country until last Thursday, when her family was one of the many fleeing attack to Al Quds hospital, and we collided amidst the chaos. Today she told me about what happened to them. Tuesday night, we had stayed with my uncle elsewhere, because the attacks were so bad. But Wednesday we went home, because it was home. Also we heard that the bombs Israel was using (phosphorous bombs) set things on fire, and we thought if we were in our home we could put out small fires before they burnt everything. We just didn’t realise how bad it was going to get.
Wednesday night was terrifying. The bombing, the shelling – my mother was shaking and reading prayers. We realised how dangerous it was there on the 5th floor, but we were too scared to go downstairs because there were windows all the way and we were afraid the Israeli soldiers or the planes would see us and shoot. My uncle lives on the ground floor, he has two daughters of 6 and 1 1/2, my grandmother lives with him also. He called us and said, come downstairs, but we said we just can’t. Next thing we knew, he’d come upstairs to get us. He actually went all the way up to the 7th floor by accident, and had to come back down to us to bang on our door. So we took blankets and went downstairs with him. We kept thinking – at 4am it will stop. Maybe at 6am it will stop. Because usually the army withdrew by then. We didn’t realise they were just continuing to move towards us this time.
Some hours later, my aunt looked out the window and saw a tank; it was pointing directly at our windows. That’s it, in a moment the shells will hit us directly, we’re dead, we thought. But something happened and it turned away from us. I called Mercycorps and asked them to call the Red Cross and ask for help. But we realised we had to escape immediately, to try to get to the hospital because maybe it was safe. We couldn’t go back to the 5th floor for our day clothes or our passports or IDs. My brother was so worried because if the soldiers got him with no ID, they would shoot him. But everyone in our building said, we have to go NOW. But we knew the snipers had just shot a man and his daughter (Haneen Al Batran and her father).
We went outside, we had small children with us – some of the little ones could barely walk but they had to if there wasn’t anyone to carry them. Then I saw you, and the other Red Crescent people coming; my brother was helping my grandmother but she can’t walk, she fell, and he stopped with her though he was sure he would be shot. Then you went to help them, so me and the rest of the family went on into the hospital. But inside, we waited for 10 mins and my uncle and my brother and my grandmother didn’t arrive, and we were sure they were dead. We checked the basement but we didn’t know it had two sides. I started to cry. Mum was shouting at everyone – did you see them, did you see them?
Then I saw my brother and I shouted “where the hell have you been!”
After some hours they said everyone would evacuate from the hospital and go to the UNWRA school, but we had to walk and Israel only gave permission for two ambulances to go with the hundreds of people. It’s a long way and my grandmother can’t walk. I didn’t know what we could do, if she had to stay we wouldn’t leave her. But then we got a wheelchair for her so we could push her. I was carrying someone else’s child because her parents had their other children, she was afraid not to be with them so she cried all the way; she could see how scared we all were. I realised how empty this area of the city was, everything was burning, it was a city of ghosts. I believed they would drop a bomb on us as we walked. But we arrived to the school.
From the UNWRA school, we went to very distant relatives – my uncle’s wife’s relatives. We had nowhere else to go; we stayed three days. We wanted to go home, but we expected after people had left, the army would shell the whole of Tela Howa. After the army withdrew, my father and brother went to check our home and bring our passports and ID. After the ceasefire we went home. But we can still hear shelling from the sea. We think it’s not really a truce, it’s more just a break.
I lost my friend from the WhyNot project – Christine Al Tork. She was really dear to me, she was one of the sweetest girls, kind of smooth and soft. Her parents only had her and her brother, so they took such care of her, and gave her so many opportunities, she took lots of classes and things…she was literally scared to death. She got asthma and then a heart attack, from fear. It was Friday, the day she died. I began to think it would happen to me too, because I was scared to death too. I was so affected by that, my family tried to be very close to me to help me. I looked on Facebook, her friends made an online group for her, and the photos of her after she died affected me so much; one of her father kissing her goodbye for the last time. I couldn’t believe she would never be back.
Then I heard my friend from college, Bissam – her name means spring – was dead. This shock was even worse. I was as pale as Christine after she died. I couldn’t eat or talk. My uncle wanted to wake me out of my shock. He shouted at me – it’s not the time for this – any of us might die at any moment, but we have to try to survive – show some care for yourself, for your family, wake up! I realised I had to find some strength, so I started to eat.
Some of my relatives live in Tuam. Their building was destroyed; six families lived there. My friend’s home was destroyed by shells. Some other relatives had their home burnt, so did another friend. Then yesterday I went to Mercycorps, and I found out my friend Jihan, who worked at Sharek, is dead. I was listening to everyone’s stories and I wanted to escape from reality but it was chasing me. During the attacks, I was calling all my friends every night to say goodbye, I was saying to all of them, please forgive me for any bad things I did. And they would say, Reem, please shut up!
My friends always used to say I was like a character out of a fairy tale, like Snow White or someone, not really living in the real world. After these days, I guess I am in the real world. I can’t watch the news, because the news was us, my life, my friends. All me and family are thinking about now is leaving Gaza.
Those minutes or hours – I literally couldn’t tell you which – when I went out into the street with the amazing Red Crescent medics to meet all the families like Reem’s, who were fleeing for their lives, were a strangely calm time. One of the guys paired up with me, and would quietly say my name and “come” to direct me where we needed to go, firstly with hands in the air but soon holding children and blankets and old people. I saw men crying, children wanting to run from sheer terror and their parents gripping them tight, women clutching babies buried in blankets. We carried several people on stretchers, stopping to bandage the sniper wound of one man on the way.
Wednesday night was terrifying. The bombing, the shelling – my mother was shaking and reading prayers. We realised how dangerous it was there on the 5th floor, but we were too scared to go downstairs because there were windows all the way and we were afraid the Israeli soldiers or the planes would see us and shoot. My uncle lives on the ground floor, he has two daughters of 6 and 1 1/2, my grandmother lives with him also. He called us and said, come downstairs, but we said we just can’t. Next thing we knew, he’d come upstairs to get us. He actually went all the way up to the 7th floor by accident, and had to come back down to us to bang on our door. So we took blankets and went downstairs with him. We kept thinking – at 4am it will stop. Maybe at 6am it will stop. Because usually the army withdrew by then. We didn’t realise they were just continuing to move towards us this time.
Some hours later, my aunt looked out the window and saw a tank; it was pointing directly at our windows. That’s it, in a moment the shells will hit us directly, we’re dead, we thought. But something happened and it turned away from us. I called Mercycorps and asked them to call the Red Cross and ask for help. But we realised we had to escape immediately, to try to get to the hospital because maybe it was safe. We couldn’t go back to the 5th floor for our day clothes or our passports or IDs. My brother was so worried because if the soldiers got him with no ID, they would shoot him. But everyone in our building said, we have to go NOW. But we knew the snipers had just shot a man and his daughter (Haneen Al Batran and her father).
We went outside, we had small children with us – some of the little ones could barely walk but they had to if there wasn’t anyone to carry them. Then I saw you, and the other Red Crescent people coming; my brother was helping my grandmother but she can’t walk, she fell, and he stopped with her though he was sure he would be shot. Then you went to help them, so me and the rest of the family went on into the hospital. But inside, we waited for 10 mins and my uncle and my brother and my grandmother didn’t arrive, and we were sure they were dead. We checked the basement but we didn’t know it had two sides. I started to cry. Mum was shouting at everyone – did you see them, did you see them?
Then I saw my brother and I shouted “where the hell have you been!”
After some hours they said everyone would evacuate from the hospital and go to the UNWRA school, but we had to walk and Israel only gave permission for two ambulances to go with the hundreds of people. It’s a long way and my grandmother can’t walk. I didn’t know what we could do, if she had to stay we wouldn’t leave her. But then we got a wheelchair for her so we could push her. I was carrying someone else’s child because her parents had their other children, she was afraid not to be with them so she cried all the way; she could see how scared we all were. I realised how empty this area of the city was, everything was burning, it was a city of ghosts. I believed they would drop a bomb on us as we walked. But we arrived to the school.
From the UNWRA school, we went to very distant relatives – my uncle’s wife’s relatives. We had nowhere else to go; we stayed three days. We wanted to go home, but we expected after people had left, the army would shell the whole of Tela Howa. After the army withdrew, my father and brother went to check our home and bring our passports and ID. After the ceasefire we went home. But we can still hear shelling from the sea. We think it’s not really a truce, it’s more just a break.
I lost my friend from the WhyNot project – Christine Al Tork. She was really dear to me, she was one of the sweetest girls, kind of smooth and soft. Her parents only had her and her brother, so they took such care of her, and gave her so many opportunities, she took lots of classes and things…she was literally scared to death. She got asthma and then a heart attack, from fear. It was Friday, the day she died. I began to think it would happen to me too, because I was scared to death too. I was so affected by that, my family tried to be very close to me to help me. I looked on Facebook, her friends made an online group for her, and the photos of her after she died affected me so much; one of her father kissing her goodbye for the last time. I couldn’t believe she would never be back.
Then I heard my friend from college, Bissam – her name means spring – was dead. This shock was even worse. I was as pale as Christine after she died. I couldn’t eat or talk. My uncle wanted to wake me out of my shock. He shouted at me – it’s not the time for this – any of us might die at any moment, but we have to try to survive – show some care for yourself, for your family, wake up! I realised I had to find some strength, so I started to eat.
Some of my relatives live in Tuam. Their building was destroyed; six families lived there. My friend’s home was destroyed by shells. Some other relatives had their home burnt, so did another friend. Then yesterday I went to Mercycorps, and I found out my friend Jihan, who worked at Sharek, is dead. I was listening to everyone’s stories and I wanted to escape from reality but it was chasing me. During the attacks, I was calling all my friends every night to say goodbye, I was saying to all of them, please forgive me for any bad things I did. And they would say, Reem, please shut up!
My friends always used to say I was like a character out of a fairy tale, like Snow White or someone, not really living in the real world. After these days, I guess I am in the real world. I can’t watch the news, because the news was us, my life, my friends. All me and family are thinking about now is leaving Gaza.
Those minutes or hours – I literally couldn’t tell you which – when I went out into the street with the amazing Red Crescent medics to meet all the families like Reem’s, who were fleeing for their lives, were a strangely calm time. One of the guys paired up with me, and would quietly say my name and “come” to direct me where we needed to go, firstly with hands in the air but soon holding children and blankets and old people. I saw men crying, children wanting to run from sheer terror and their parents gripping them tight, women clutching babies buried in blankets. We carried several people on stretchers, stopping to bandage the sniper wound of one man on the way.
A's building where young girl is, tanks were where white car is
Towards the end my Red Crescent comrade B realised that we didn’t have his best friend A. He wasn’t answering his phone, and that his building was closest to where the tanks were. He asked me to come and get him (I have this trick of untying my long hair to be clearly visible as a woman, in case it discourages shooting, though in the circumstances I wasn’t convinced it would help) and after an eerie walk through emptiness, we found ourselves within a hundred yards of the tanks. From the next building we called across and discovered several families remained in it but wanted to leave.
First they couldn’t find A, but then they did – and I swear he’d slept through the whole thing, with a tank nearly under his window and deafening shelling going on. And we all got back safe. In these last days, whenever Red Crescent folks from other places turned up on ambulance runs, the greetings were much closer to reunions. Big hugs and 5 or 6 smacking kisses on each cheek. The subtext: “you’re still alive. It’s a miracle, you’re still alive.” E heard today of a third friend who is dead. She has had a hard time. I have lost no-one personal to me.
Towards the end my Red Crescent comrade B realised that we didn’t have his best friend A. He wasn’t answering his phone, and that his building was closest to where the tanks were. He asked me to come and get him (I have this trick of untying my long hair to be clearly visible as a woman, in case it discourages shooting, though in the circumstances I wasn’t convinced it would help) and after an eerie walk through emptiness, we found ourselves within a hundred yards of the tanks. From the next building we called across and discovered several families remained in it but wanted to leave.
First they couldn’t find A, but then they did – and I swear he’d slept through the whole thing, with a tank nearly under his window and deafening shelling going on. And we all got back safe. In these last days, whenever Red Crescent folks from other places turned up on ambulance runs, the greetings were much closer to reunions. Big hugs and 5 or 6 smacking kisses on each cheek. The subtext: “you’re still alive. It’s a miracle, you’re still alive.” E heard today of a third friend who is dead. She has had a hard time. I have lost no-one personal to me.
Jabalia children on wagonload of destroyed trees
I have three hangovers that I’m aware of from these days. One, I hate to sleep alone at my flat; the two nights I did during the attacks, it felt too far from the hospital where my work and my friends were and I was worried I would be cut off from them. It still somehow feels like being in the wrong place. Two, I feel happiest when my 3 best Red Crescent friends are all present and within my sight. Three, in the dark when I see bags of rubbish on the street I think they are bodies. This is because I found, when we went to pick up bodies lying in the dark, that they looked more like crumpled bags of rubbish than the people they had been.
The strength of Gaza people astounds me. Everyone was out today fixing things. Re-laying water pipes, clearing rubble. Putting aside the thoughts of the children who are dead, to smile for the children who are still alive. How is it done? Where do they find the courage? And what will be their reward for getting up and going on, one more time?
I forgot to tell you that today again I woke to the sound of shelling from Israeli ships in the Gaza sea. (Since I interviewed her, Reem has written her story in her own words.)
I have three hangovers that I’m aware of from these days. One, I hate to sleep alone at my flat; the two nights I did during the attacks, it felt too far from the hospital where my work and my friends were and I was worried I would be cut off from them. It still somehow feels like being in the wrong place. Two, I feel happiest when my 3 best Red Crescent friends are all present and within my sight. Three, in the dark when I see bags of rubbish on the street I think they are bodies. This is because I found, when we went to pick up bodies lying in the dark, that they looked more like crumpled bags of rubbish than the people they had been.
The strength of Gaza people astounds me. Everyone was out today fixing things. Re-laying water pipes, clearing rubble. Putting aside the thoughts of the children who are dead, to smile for the children who are still alive. How is it done? Where do they find the courage? And what will be their reward for getting up and going on, one more time?
I forgot to tell you that today again I woke to the sound of shelling from Israeli ships in the Gaza sea. (Since I interviewed her, Reem has written her story in her own words.)
