The scenes they witness are haunting. A dead girl, lowered by a rope from a ruined building, sways slightly before coming to rest, her legs folding beneath her on the rubble. They see people and parts of people lying out in the open, caught by a blast or a bullet, death in all its violent forms.
Bodies lie in the streets, in the blasted-open sitting rooms of houses, under the rubble. Sometimes they are buried so deeply in concrete that the men will never reach them, and only after the war will someone give them a proper burial. The men of the Gaza Civil Defence cannot escape these horrors. There is no shutting out the smell. Every sense is heightened, knowing death can come from the skies in an instant.
When fighting is as fierce as it has been in Shejaiya in eastern Gaza City, or Tal Al-Sultan near Rafah in the south, the Civil Defence ambulances dare not venture out. “Entering areas close to the Israeli occupation is dangerous, but we try to intervene to save lives and souls,” says Muhammed Al Mughayer, a local Civil Defence official.
He and his men seize any lull in the conflict to recover the dead and wounded. Families constantly ask about missing relatives. “It is very difficult to identify the bodies,” explains Mr. Mughayer. “Some remain unidentified due to complete decomposition.” Stray animals prey on the corpses, tearing off clothes and scattering papers that might have been used to identify them.
The ambulance crews are short of fuel. Two days ago, one broke down in Tal Al-Sultan and had to be towed out, a nerve-wracking experience for the crews. The risk of being fired on by Israeli forces, says Mr. Mughayer, means seriously injured people often cannot be rescued. “There is currently a report of an injured person near Al-Salihin Mosque from two days ago, but we can’t reach them due to delays in coordination. It may result in their death.”
Refugees continue to flee from Gaza City and areas like Shejaiya. Many have been displaced multiple times. For them, it is a world without laws or rules. World leaders express concern, but nobody is coming to rescue them. Nothing is more acute for these people than the sense that they can die at any moment. Sharif Abu Shanab stands outside the ruins of his family home in Shejaiya, his expression a mix of bewilderment and grief.
“My house had four floors, and I can’t enter it,” he says. “I can’t take anything out of it, not even a can of tuna. We have nothing, no food or drink. They bulldozed all the houses, and it is not our fault. Why do they hold us accountable for the fault of others? What did we do? We are citizens. Look at the destruction around you… Where do we go, and to whom? We are thrown in the streets now, we have no home or anything. Where do we go? There is only one solution, and that is to hit us with a nuclear bomb and relieve us of this life.”
Occasionally, there are glimpses of reprieve. The Al-Fayoumi family, arriving near Deir Al Balah in central Gaza, are relieved to have escaped from Gaza City. This comes after a warning from the Israel Defense Forces to evacuate, sending thousands of people onto the road south.
Source: bbc