‘The whole town is mourning’

[Pelican Press 0]

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‘The whole town is mourning’

data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///ywAAAAAAQABAAACAUwAOw==Reuters

Residents ***** all-out war after an air strike on a football pitch ******* 12 children in ********-occupied Golan Heights

The scene around the football pitch here in Majdal Shams, where 12 children ***** on Saturday, is quiet and deeply sombre.

There are plenty of people here – local Druze elders in their distinctive red and white turbans and baggy trousers, military officials, visiting government ministers and of course many journalists.

But conversations around the crater where the rocket landed are hushed, respectful.

A ****** flag flies at the spot where the rocket landed last night, gouging a shallow crater in the pitch and blowing out the metal fence around it. There are shrapnel holes everywhere.

Wreaths have just been *****. Many people are simply standing by the crater, taking in the scene, lost in thought.

In the corner of the pitch, someone has tried to remove the bloodstains on the astroturf, but with only limited success.

Outside the fence, bicycles and scooters lie scattered, all blackened from yesterday’s brief but devastating fireball.

There’s a ***** shelter metres away, but when the siren sounded last night, the children had mere seconds to respond. They had absolutely no chance.

******* says the rocket was fired from Shebaa, a small village just a short distance away across the western flank of Mt Hermon, which towers over Majdal Shams.

Hezbollah disputes *******’s claim, but around the time the rocket landed here, its media outlets announced that it had fired rockets towards an ******** military base less than two miles from the football pitch.

Golan Heights strike: ‘There was a siren, but no-one had time to react’

This is a day of funerals for the 12 boys and ******, all between 10 and 16, who ***** here. Grief hangs heavy in the summer heat.

A voice is briefly raised, furious and urgent.

“How come there’s still a Beirut?” he cries. “We’ve had 10 months of our children living in *****.”

There’s a ripple of applause, but opinion here in this Druze ********* town is divided on how forcefully ******* should respond. After almost 10 months of simmering conflict, the prospect of an all-out war scares many.

When Bezalel Smotrich, *******’s hardline finance minister, arrives, the crowd swells and the sense of anger mounts.

He’s accosted by ****** locals. Some are demanding a decisive response against Hezbollah. Some accuse the government of abandoning the Golan Heights.

Mr Smotrich tries to offer his condolences, even to hug those around him. But it seems not everyone is interested in his sympathy.

In the middle of a large adjacent football pitch, 12 empty ****** chairs commemorate the lost children.

Fighting back the tears, 26-year-old Ugarit Abu Assad, from nearby Buqata, says she fears a major escalation.

“I’m afraid of the consequences of all out war,” she says. “A lot of people are going to ****.”

Walking around the steep streets of this mountain community, the sense of collective shock and mourning is overwhelming.

Small groups of men, women and children, all dressed in ******, are moving around silently, from one grieving household to another.

Sometimes you catch sight of people hugging or wiping away each other’s tears.

Wahim, a teacher who knew many of the young victims, was utterly distraught, unsure whether to try to express his feelings or stay silent.

“This is a disaster. How do I even start,” he said, before apologising and dissolving into sobs.

Ivan Ebrahim pulled up a picture of his 10-year-old cousin, Milar Shaar, the youngest victim. A boy who loved football and gaming.

“He is the greatest **** here. Everybody loved him,” Ivan said.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.”

“We haven’t slept since yesterday,” Milar’s uncle, Nassar Ebrahim tells me. “The whole town is in mourning.”

data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///ywAAAAAAQABAAACAUwAOw==data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///ywAAAAAAQABAAACAUwAOw==Reuters

Thousands gathered in the streets on Sunday for the funerals of the young people who were ******* in the strike

The people of Majdal Shams are used to the sound of rockets overhead, but Saturday’s ******* took them all by surprise.

“I don’t think the government needs to respond,” Nassar says. “They need to end the war, so no-one ***** on either side.”

The mood up here, away from the occasional ****** outbursts down at the football pitch, is extremely subdued.

But this is a part of the world where hospitality runs deep.

A group of young men call us over, offering water thimbles of strong coffee.

They’re determined to stay put, despite the danger.

“We Druze don’t leave our homes,” one tells me, echoing a quiet defiance we encounter elsewhere.

When it comes to what happens next, they’re unanimous: they don’t want a wider war.

“The children here, the children in Lebanon, the children in Gaza. They don’t need more war,” another says.

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