Ariel Pachima with the father and son he helped during the October 7 massacre committed by Hamas. Photo: provided.

On that fateful morning of October 7th, I was asked by the head of the Be’er Sheva branch of United Hatzalah to go to Soroka Hospital in the city, to see if they needed help due to the sheer quantity of patients being brought there.

When I arrived near the entrance to the ER, an EMT came out of an ambulance and started throwing up. I was immediately asked to fill the gap and replace him in the ambulance. I didn’t think twice and jumped into the ambulance, which was now staffed with the driver and myself. We drove toward the Gaza periphery and started receiving patients who were brought to us by security forces, or that we found in the field.

Two patients that I will forever remember were Hamed and his baby boy. We encountered them in the field after they managed to escape the inferno. Hamed had shrapnel injuries to his back, and the young boy had shrapnel injuries to his shoulder and upper torso, and they were both bleeding. I began the crucial initial treatment, cleaning and bandaging their wounds. Meanwhile, our ambulance driver raced to Soroka Hospital, knowing that we would need to come back and treat and transport others. 

“They murdered my wife!” Hamed kept repeating, hysterical. He went on to explain that early in the morning, Hamed and Fatima, residents of the Bedouin town of Arara BaNegev, had been driving to Mivtachim, a town close to the Gaza border, where Hamed works in a greenhouse growing tomatoes.

They had brought their young boy in the back of the car. As Hamed stopped the car at an intersection, Hamas terrorists on motorcycles who had infiltrated Israeli territory, opened fire on Hamed and Fatima. Hamed’s wife was killed almost immediately. Hamed and their infant son sustained injuries from shrapnel. Hamed told me that his wife, whose body had to be left in the field, was wearing a hijab, a head covering worn by Muslim women, which was obviously visible to Hamas terrorists and did not prevent them from murdering her savagely.

Hamed managed to exit the car and sought refuge with his child, remaining in hiding for several hours. At one point he and his son were caught in a crossfire between Hamas terrorists and IDF soldiers, and he thought they were going to die. After the soldiers eliminated the terrorists they found Hamed hiding and first viewed him as a suspect. The company commander, noticing the child, and Hamed speaking some Hebrew, told the soldiers not to shoot as he was Israeli. “I saw my death right in front of me until the commander said I was Israeli,” Hamed told me.

After the soldiers left, Hamed decided to leave the area with a car he found and drive to the Ofakim intersection nearby, where we found him.

After we transported Hamed and his son to the hospital, I lost contact with them. But I work at a cement factory in Be’er Sheva, and last week I was approached by a fellow employee who lives in Arara BaNegev and is Hamed’s neighbor, who reconnected us.

On Wednesday last week, I arrived with a basket of fruit at Hamed’s house to extend condolences for the passing of Hamed’s wife and support for him and his son. It was incredibly moving for me. Hamed expressed his gratitude, stating, “Thank you. The situation was completely crazy, and despite it all, you risked your life to save others. We will be strong, and I wish you to continue to be strong also.”

This is how peace will come; when our shared humanity triumphs over the hate of Hamas and other terrorist groups.

Ariel Pachima is a United Hatzalah volunteer EMT. He lives in Be’er Sheva with his wife and three children.