This article includes graphic images of violence and death.
DEIR Al-BALAH, GAZA — Suhail Mutlaq Abu Nasser didn’t originally come from the Nuseirat refugee camp in the central Gaza Strip. But, by the time the Israeli military attacked the area on Saturday — part of a large-scale operation to rescue four Israeli hostages seized from a rave on October 7 — the camp was the closest thing Abu Nasser had to a home.
After initially settling in the area in November, Abu Nasser, 60, faced more displacements, but the tortuous journey brought him back to Nuseirat this spring. The house in Nuseirat he’d taken up had been bombed and was partially destroyed, but he reasoned it was better than the nylon tent he had stayed in down south in Rafah.
On Saturday, at around 11 a.m., Abu Nasser was standing by a window in the home when missiles began to rain down on the area. One struck just 20 meters away.
“The area turned to ashes,” Abu Nasser told me in a Sunday interview. “I couldn’t find my wife and started calling out to those around me to ensure they were still alive.”
“The street was filled with civilian body parts and many injuries bleeding out without ambulances being able to reach them.”
Driven outside by fear of his building being bombed, Abu Nasser was confronted by a massive Israeli attack unfolding around him. The streets were filled by a swarm of quadcopter drones equipped with small arms. Tank tracks could be heard nearby. U.S.-made Apache attack helicopters hovered. Nearby homes were hit with missiles.
“We heard people crying for help in the bombed houses,” Abu Nasser said. “They had martyrs and injuries, but we couldn’t help them.”
The scene was gruesome. “The street was filled with civilian body parts,” he said, “and many injuries bleeding out without ambulances being able to reach them.”
The sustained attack on Nuseirat lasted about 75 minutes.
“The operation ended, but we stayed in our places, afraid to move for a long time,” Abu Nasser recalled. “It was a horrific scene and a difficult time that I had never experienced in my life.”
“Why Did They Deserve This?”
As the Israeli forces withdrew with four hostages in tow, they left death and destruction in their wake. The authorities in Gaza announced that 274 people, including 64 children and 57 women, had been killed, with more than 400 injuries, and that 89 inhabited homes or residential buildings had been bombed during the raid.
A release from the Hamas government media office in Gaza said Israeli soldiers disguised themselves as displaced persons in carrying out what is being called the Nuseirat massacre.
The Washington Post verified two videos of a truck bearing the logo of a dishwashing soap being escorted out of Nuseirat by Israeli tanks — though whether the scene was before or after the attack was unclear. Another video posted online showed a Mercedes-Benz van with living items strapped to it — a “Grapes of Wrath”-like scene common in Gaza. An eyewitness told the Post that about 10 Israeli soldiers leapt out of the van, shooting the eyewitness’s brother. (A representative for Israel Defense Forces spokesperson Rear Adm. Daniel Hagari told The Intercept no civilian vehicles were used in the attack.)
“There is nothing, nothing at all that justifies what I saw today. Nothing.”
Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah, which I visited on Saturday, was overflowing with casualties from Nuseirat. Ambulances continually arrived, and screams filled the air. Chaos reigned in the emergency room throughout the afternoon, said Karin Huster, a policy organizer and supervisor working at Al-Aqsa with Doctors Without Borders, according to a recording she sent from Gaza that was released by the medical aid group, known by its French initials MSF.
“There is nothing, nothing at all that justifies what I saw today,” Huster said. “Nothing.”
“These children — the 3-month-old, the 7-year-old, the 12-year-old who died — the 25-year-old man, the 78-year-old woman, who all have horrendous injuries,” she continued. “Why did they deserve this? And why is the world looking on in silence? To what level of horror do we need to go before we finally do something, before we finally tell Israel that this is not acceptable?”
Photo: Ali Jadallah/Anadolu via Getty Images
The Road to Nuseirat
I was on my way to Nuseirat when the Israeli military launched its attack.
The war has been turbulent for me. Like Abu Nasser, I’ve been displaced and relocated three times during the war. Most recently, in May, I arrived in Deir al-Balah, a city in central Gaza.
Like many others, I have lost loved ones and I have lost colleagues. One of the losses, my husband, was the epitome of both and much more.
He was my partner in our production company, the father of my daughter, and the love of my life. Unfortunately, he was killed by the Israelis in October while shielding me and our daughter from two rockets that struck our home. Despite this tragedy, I knew I had to continue telling stories.
On June 8, I embarked on a 4-mile trip from Deir al-Balah to Nuseirat to conduct an interview for a film we were working on. As we neared Nuseirat, I felt uneasy and considered canceling the trip. Suddenly, the situation escalated with helicopter gunships flying low and artillery shells landing nearby.
Witnessing the chaos, we debated whether to proceed or turn back when a missile hit the house next to us. Shrapnel flew over our heads, and my immediate concern was for my young daughter who had recently turned one after losing her father.
We decided to head back to Deir al-Balah and to Al-Aqsa Hospital. The hospital was overwhelmed with patients from the bombings in Nuseirat, including children, women, and men with various war wounds. The scene was chaotic and heartbreaking, with children in shock and patients in need of urgent care.
Despite the chaos, we received a warning that the Israeli military might attack the hospital, leading to a moment of panic. Although the attack never materialized, we decided to leave the area for safety.
The story continued with Abu Nasser and his wife, who had been displaced multiple times due to Israeli attacks in Gaza. Their journey to safety was fraught with danger and uncertainty as they sought refuge in different locations. The new residence turned out to be temporary, lasting only a month and a half.
The displacement became a recurring experience for Abu Nasser. In late December, he followed Israel’s evacuation orders and moved south to Rafah along with 1.4 million other internally displaced Palestinians. They settled in a tent in the Tel al-Sultan camp near Rafah’s center.
Five months later, when Rafah faced threats from the Israeli army, Abu Nasser returned to his damaged home in Nuseirat. The Tel al-Sultan camp in Rafah later became the location of the tragic “tent massacre.”
During the attacks in Nuseirat, Abu Nasser and his wife sought shelter from various threats, including tanks, helicopters, shells, missiles, and drones armed with small arms.
After hiding behind the stairs for over an hour, they survived the attack, fearing the worst.
“We were waiting for death,” Abu Nasser recounted, expecting their house to be bombed at any moment.
Contributions to this story were made by Sharif Abdel Kouddous.
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