The Firefighters
“On the day the Iranian missile struck Bat Yam, we heard the siren and immediately rushed to the shelter located in our station. The missile landed about three kilometers from us, and the explosion was massive. We instantly knew there was a scene we had to reach urgently. Within seconds, we received a report of the strike’s impact. We grabbed our gear, got on the fire truck, and immediately set out.
We didn’t know exactly what to expect. The initial report mentioned a missile hitting a residential neighborhood and a high-rise building that had sustained severe damage, but none of us imagined the scale of the destruction. Only when we arrived did we truly understand how severe the situation was. As in most incidents, we – the firefighters – were the first emergency responders on site. We entered into absolute chaos.
I remember the moment I jumped off the truck and started running toward the scene. What I remember most is the silence-or more accurately, the ‘white noise’ that surrounded me until I reached the epicenter of the destruction.
I could hear the crunching of glass underfoot, and then – suddenly- came the screams, the cries, the desperate pleas of people begging us to save their loved ones. We had to push through the crowd, almost like parting the Red Sea. Everyone was trying to pull us in a different direction toward someone they cared about. It was utter chaos.
When we reached the impact zone, we immediately began searching and attempting rescues. We realized there were people trapped beneath the rubble. With bare hands, we started clearing debris, digging, trying to reach them. And all the while, more sirens, warning of incoming missiles. In those moments, you stop, take cover, and the second the alarm ends, you go right back to rescuing people. It’s as simple as that – When lives are on the line, every second counts.
I’m proud to say that my team rescued five people alive from beneath the rubble and handed them over to the medical crews on site for further treatment.A firefighter isn’t just someone who puts out fires or pulls people from wreckage – he’s also a psychologist, a social worker, and sometimes just a shoulder to lean on. I remember a small boy, maybe ten years old, clutching his grandmother’s hand, looking up at us with tearful eyes and asking if we could save his father, who was buried beneath the ruins. We already knew his father hadn’t survived, but we tried to give him hope, to comfort him. We hugged him – and then went straight back into the rubble, looking for more survivors.
I’m proud to be a firefighter. It’s a calling – but it’s also a team effort. We couldn’t save lives without the entire system behind us – the firefighters at the stations, the staff at headquarters, and our families who support us day and night. This is the moment to thank them all.
Being a firefighter – it’s my calling. It’s in my DNA.