‘Terrorists entered my family’s home – somehow they survived’

Kinloss on Shabbat and Yom Tov last weekend morning was heaving as normal.

Walking in, I made my way to my friends to make the traditional greetings.  However, instead of Shabbat Shalom, I was greeted with news of some escalation in Israel. Details were few, just some vague rumours of thousands of rockets being fired from Gaza. Though a surprise, news of rockets stopped being shocking many years ago,

Then I overheard something new: “They’ve gotten in, they’re in all the border kibbutzim”. It shocked me to the core.

Anyone with family in or around southern Israel knows the worry and anxiety which shot up through our spines at this moment.

Racing home to turn on my phone, I saw the message I was dreading: “We are stuck. They came in and burnt our house.”

My Aunt Deborah (born and raised in Romford, Essex), my cousin Aimee, her husband Uriel and their newborn 10-day old baby Kai were in a safe room in the Kibbitz of Nirim, surrounded by terrorist who were trying everything to get to them, and murder them.

It would be hours before we would receive another message from them. This time was hell for me and my family, I do not wish to imagine what it was like for them.

All in all, they were in that ‘Safe Room’ for 9 hours. 9 hours surrounded by terrorist on the hunt for Jews. Eventually, and by the grace of G-d, we heard the news that the IDF had reached them and taken them to relative safety.

At 6.30am on Saturday morning, my family were awoken by rocket sirens. As normal procedure, they rushed in the’ safe room’ which all houses in this area are equipped with, built to protect against rockets. An hour later, they heard the sounds of gunfire and they realised that they were under attack.

Looking on the security cameras of the house, they saw the terrorists were in their house.

These ‘safe rooms’ were not built to keep invaders out. They have no lock on the inside. With all their might my cousin Aimee and her husband Uriel made sure that that door handle did not turn. The terrorist tried shooting the door but could not enter.

They were undeterred in their attempts to kill. They set fire to the house with them inside. The safe room started filling with black smoke and my Aunt speaks of coming to terms with death, hers and her family’s.

Whenever they believed the terrorists had moved away, onto other houses, my family would open the small window in an attempt to get some fresh air. They would place Kai, their 10-day old baby, on the windowsill. Whenever they heard the terrorists return, they would throw Kai on the bed, shut the window, and squeeze that door handle with all their might. This was repeated for six hours, during which they heard the screams of the family dog as he burnt to death.

Once the IDF arrived they were transferred to an underground shelter where they started to hear the horror stories of others, many who were murdered. From there they were taken to a hospital where they were all treated for smoke inhalation.

As time passes and the atrocities of the terrorists continue to come to light, it is strange to think of my family as the lucky ones.

My Aunt Deborah keeps coming back to the same question. If the terrorists had gotten in, would they have been murdered straight away or kidnapped and taken as hostages. As the horror stories of babies being massacred are shared, I dread to think of what would have happened to baby Kai.

As Kai grows up, I pray that he knows a world of peace and not war and terror.