A
story witnessed by the war correspondent Panos Haritos*
In Gaza, it
doesn't matter what you did, where you went, what you've learned and
what you have in mind to write. In the end, Gaza itself will guide
you on the subject.
So,
yesterday, after a three-hour wandering in the Zeitoun neighborhood
and one hour during the afternoon in the city of Gaza, I returned to
the hotel. I stayed in the dining room for while, discussing with the
rest of my colleagues and then I went upstairs in my room on the
second floor of the Beach Hotel, in front of the beach.
Instinctively, my first move when I walked in, was, as always, to
open the window, so that the shock wave would not break the glasses
during the bombardments.
I sat on the
table, switched on my computer, and looked at the time on the upper
side of the screen. It was 16:16 when I heard the first sound caused
by a missile explosion which came from a warship of Israel. The shock
wave blocked the air speed for a while. The explosion was very close.
The room shaken. I run towards the window and I saw smoke coming from
a kiosk in the jetty at 100 meters from us.
Four
silhouettes popped out from the rocks that separate the port from the
beach. Four children were running away from the site of the explosion
towards to our hotel. I looked the windows of the other rooms and all
my colleagues were standing there, trying to interpret the picture.
I turned my
eyes to the beach again. The children were giving all they got. Their
feet were sinking in the sand, they were pushing as much as they
could to run away. The hotel with the journalists was only 50 meters
away. The children covered half distance to reach what they thought
as safe shelter. Then, they realize that between the hotel and the
beach there is a fence. Next to us there is another hotel called Al
Deira. The distance is 100 meters more, and the children are running
towards there.
At that
moment, a second missile explodes on the beach. Three of the children
injured and fell on the sand. The fourth was injured by a shard but
keep running until reaches the wall of the next hotel. Some
colleagues run to the beach and take him to the safety of the open
restaurant. He made it, but he is seriously injured. He is losing
much blood, but manages to keep his senses and describes exactly what
happened. Meanwhile, other journalists brought from their rooms a
first aid kit. They tie powerfully the points over the wounds to stop
the bleeding and put gauze until the ambulance to arrive to pick him
up.
"I was
feeling like they were following me with the cannon. It was like
missiles were chasing our feet", he said to those standing above
him.
Together
with the rest of the journalists from the Beach Hotel, we went down
to the beach towards the three other children, no more than two
minutes after the first strike. It was already too late for one of
them and the other two were heavily injured. It was horrible. The
explosion hit them right on their feet. The description of the
picture is not appropriate. The ambulances arrive and the children
are taken to the hospital.
According to
witnesses, three of the children were playing with a ball and one was
fixing a fishing net, before the navy attack.
All
journalists are trying to find an answer to the question why four
children, 12-15 years of age, who were playing in front of our hotel,
had been targeted by the Israeli forces. The logic resigns, so, we
seek an answer from the more official mouths of Israel. We call
successively, from 16:30 to 16:40, the press representative of the
Israeli ministry of defence, seeking an answer on "why".
"We are investigating the incident and will call you back",
was the answer that we all received. Until 21:00, when i finished
this article, there was no answer ...
From the
hospital they told us that all four children finally died.
The
colleague who took care of the wounds of the boy who managed to reach
the hotel, walks away from the circle. He goes out to the backyard
and asks a cigarette from a passing. He quit smoking seven months
ago, another colleague said.
Two hours
later, the locals gathered for the children's funerals, outside the
hotel. They decide to follow boys' opposite direction to the beach,
to take them to their last residence. The ball with which they were
playing, was never found. It was lost in flames together with the
fishing net ...
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