War correspondent Trey Yingst recounts the horrors of October 7 and its aftermath
Occasionally, rockets are fired from northern Gaza. This is truly an exchange of fire.
In a direct report on Morning with MariaI hold the mic in one hand and my ear in the other. In May, I stood too close to the Iron Dome battery when it launched an interceptor missile. That, along with not using enough ear protection during the Tulkarem raid in September, damaged the hearing in my right ear. I went to see a doctor in Jerusalem and was told it was probably temporary.
Now I report: “The military told us today that more than three thousand targets have been hit since Saturday morning. I’m going to step out here and show you what it looked like while this shelling was going on.” We turned to the soldiers in the distance, marching in straight line, training for the task ahead. The chyron text reads: “Israel prepares for ground invasion of Gaza.”
“Fields have been turned into bases, dirt roads have been turned into arteries for the army to deliver supplies and weapons to its fighters because the issue is not whether Israel will enter Gaza “Or not, it’s a matter of when,” he said. I have reported.
Before our visit for Fox & FriendsWe ran into Lieutenant Colonel Richard Hecht, the army’s international spokesman, and his team on the side of the road. Hecht and I have a good relationship and I thought this might be a good opportunity to interview him in person.
“Where are things now in terms of preparations? It looks like the Israelis are staging a move into Gaza.”
“So before we talk about Gaza,” Richard replied, “once again I’m here, you’re here, to see what happened here. We are around and with the community. Yesterday, I went to Kfar Aza with journalists to show the world what happened there and it was an ISIS massacre, even worse than the ISIS massacre. Bodies and people were beheaded. Terrible.
“And we are now preparing ourselves,” he said. “We are currently attacking Gaza from the air and all future options are being considered. We are focusing mainly on the Gaza compounds and right now this is a very, very serious attack aimed at dismantling their capabilities.”
The sound of fireworks.
“In Kfar Aza,” I said, “we know there are mutilated bodies. Women and children were beheaded. Is that accurate?” I’ve seen the reports but am still skeptical—I need to continue investigating the claims. “Yes. We talked to the soldiers. I am not the spokesperson.
We went there, there were Israeli reserve paratroopers. And they tell stories. They tell stories. And again, I’m still recovering from that day. I even feel emotional when I think about it.”
After the interview, I talked to Keren Hajioff, a longtime friend of mine, Ariel, who is currently on reserve duty. Keren is a former spokesman for Prime Minister Naftali Bennett. “You will come, right?” she said.
She was talking about Kibbutz Be’eri.
Founded in 1946 in the northwestern Negev desert, Be’eri is famous for its art galleries. And the small farming community of just over 1,000 people looks like a picture. Rolling hills lead to lush fields. A small printing factory employs many residents, and like many kibbutzim along the Gaza border, the community has good relations with Palestinians and is home to many peace activists. However, its proximity to Gaza, just three miles from the border, makes it vulnerable to frequent mortar and rocket attacks.
Every family in Be’eri knows about this drill. Mortars or rockets appear several times a year. If the siren sounds, you have entered a bomb shelter, what Israel calls a bunker. Momand wait for everything to clear up. By 2023, red siren apps on iPhones, which serve as another warning of impending fires, are as popular as computer apps. Attacks are never a big deal.
On the night of October 6, residents gathered in the dining hall to celebrate the 77th anniversary of the kibbutz’s founding. It was Shabbat, so the alcohol flowed as the neighbors gathered for a small party. It’s also the last day of the week-long Sukkot holiday. The crisp October evening turned into a chilly night. Like most communities in the Negev desert, the lack of light pollution allows residents to clearly see the stars on their way home. It was so quiet. It’s so peaceful.
Early Saturday morning, everything changed.
Loud explosions pierced the sky over Kibbutz Be’eri as Qassam missiles were intercepted overhead in the first strike at 6:29 am. Missile sirens echoed throughout the streets. “Zeva Adom, Zeva Adom”: Red alert. It is the alarm clock of the people of Be’eri. They woke up and rushed to the safety of their room.
Meanwhile, on the flight out of the Nova Music Festival, Yasmin and Tal saw militants in bomb shelters, running away, blocking traffic, and turning around; now they have arrived at Be’eri. This community is known to Yasmin as one of the wealthier kibbutzim in Israel, a protected and safe place. With the rocket flying, they drove up to the yellow sliding gate behind another car, which opened the gate.
A few hundred feet inside, they encountered Be’eri security, who were in the process of responding to a missile alarm. “Hello, we’re from the party,” Yasmin told them. “There’s a terrorist in migration unit [outdoor bomb shelter]. Please help us!”
They were asked to get out of the car and get on one of the be’eri miguniot cars.
They did, but at the entrance to the kibbutz, what would become an hours-long nightmare for Be’eri—and for Yasmin and Tal—was now unfolding.
CCTV video shows the start of the attack on the kibbutz:
At 6:55 a.m., two Hamas fighters approached the yellow sliding gate at the entrance to Be’eri, Kalashnikovs in hand.
