Southern Israel – Tali Haddad, 49, is a mother of six and a kindergarten teacher whose days are typically spent teaching basic reading, math and social skills to 5-year-olds. He never imagined that one day he would be forced to make a life-or-death decision during a crossfire in the middle of a war zone.
But on October 7, 2023, he was pushed into unimaginable circumstances.
As soon as Hamas launched its attack at 6:45 amShe woke up to the sound of sirens and gunfire in her hometown of Ofakim, a small, working-class town in southern Israel, 15 miles from the Gaza border. The piercing alarm ringing in the air indicated that this was no ordinary rocket attack, to which much of the area had become accustomed over the years.
Hadad immediately knew that his family was in grave danger.
His son, Itamar, a soldier in officer training, was home on weekend leave. As the sounds of gunfire got closer, he grabbed his rifle, knowing there was a fight going on right outside their door. He ran towards the terrorists without any hesitation. Hadad, still in her pajamas, quickly put on running shoes and followed, her instincts as a mother taking over.
“I ran to the playground,” Haddad told Fox News Digital. “I hid behind a wall and saw a line of terrorists with rifles moving in the same direction where my son had gone.” After some time he heard the sound of gunshots. “I knew Itamar was in the middle of it. I waited, hoping he would come out, but he didn’t. So, I ran toward him.”
As gunshots rang out all around him, Hadad watched the destruction unfold as he dodged through the streets. “People were screaming from the windows, pleading for help,” he said. “But there was no ambulance coming, there was no one to save them.”
Then, he looked at Itamar. He was shot multiple times – in the stomach, leg and thigh. His two companions were lying dead on the ground next to him.
“He looked at me and said, ‘Mom, what are you doing here?’ I told him, ‘You’re hurt, I’m taking you to the hospital,'” she recalls.
With the sound of gunfire still echoing around her, Hadad quickly drove back to her home, jumped into the family car and drove straight to her son. “They put Itamar in the car with the other wounded and I drove as fast as I could, at 120 kilometers per hour, to Magen David Adom station (Israel’s National Emergency Medical Service) At the entrance to the city,” she said. “I knew that if I drove slowly, the terrorists would shoot me.”
After handing Itamar to the paramedics, he made a fateful decision. “I told her, ‘Mom’s not coming with you. You go in the ambulance, I’ll come with you later. I have to go back and help others.'”
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Hadad returned to the scene of the battle and made three more trips to rescue a total of 13 people, also under constant fire. “People tried to stop me,” he said. “They told me it was too dangerous, but I took Itamar’s rifle, and I knew it was something I had to do. I had no choice but to take action.”
After hours of intense fighting with police officers, forces Yamam Special-Operations UnitAlong with armed civilians and off-duty soldiers, Israeli forces regained control of the city. A helicopter arrived to evacuate the injured. Only then was Hadad able to step away from her role as a rescuer and check on her son at the hospital. Itamar survived, but his road to recovery will be long.
“Half of the rehabilitation is physical, and half is mental,” Itamar Haddad told Fox News Digital, after the traumatic events of that day, the friends he lost in the fighting, and in Gaza, where his unit was based. Have lost him since. , Sayret Nahal suffered many casualties. Despite the pain, his dream is to return to his unit and continue fighting.
On October 7, 47 of Ofakim’s 50,000 residents were murdered, and the street where Hadad lived became known as Rechov Ha’Mavet – “Death Street”.
A year after the attack, Ofakim is rebuilding. Death Street, once a symbol of terror, has been renovated. The city has erected a memorial, painted murals and planted olive trees – a sign of life instead of destruction.
“We have collected the pieces of the victims, all the memories, and we are trying to bring life back to a place that was destroyed,” Hadad said.
Ofakim was not among the many towns and settlements in the south that were resettled in other parts of Israel. But the psychological wounds still remain. waiting list for stroke There has been an increase in consultations, overwhelming the available doctors. In response, the Israel Psychoanalytic Society and the NGO IsraelAid established a multidisciplinary trauma center that provides free mental health support to genocide survivors.
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Hadad, like Ofakim and many others across the country, continues to grapple with the emotional consequences. “We are still bleeding,” she said. This experience was life changing for him. She has not returned to work since the attack, choosing to stay at home and care for Itamar. Five of his six children are serving in the IDF, either on active duty or in the reserves. Right now, two of them are fighting in Gaza. His youngest daughter will join the army in a month.
The community of Ofakim is healing, but the memories of October 7 will never fade. Haddad said, “We remember how our children used to run through the streets barefoot, fighting like lions. No politicians come here anymore. No tour buses come. But we remember. We will always remember.”