South Tel Aviv.
During the 12 days of Israel–Iran bombardments, we sheltered in a neighbor’s mamad—the reinforced safe room—because our apartment had none, and no public shelter was nearby. Their mamad happened to be the bedroom of their three-year-old.
The neighbors kindly gave us a key so we could come in at any hour, even if their whole family—husband, wife, and two kids—was asleep while the sirens and explosions echoed outside. At night, we often found them all sleeping in that small room.
But I couldn’t help noticing that the husband always wore a private handgun strapped to his belt. As the days went on, fear crept in: what if, half-asleep in the middle of the night, startled by us entering his room, he reacted instinctively and fired? Each time we opened the door and woke him, the thought haunted me.
Nothing happened, of course. But I’m still left wondering—was my fear reasonable, or would proper training ensure that such a mistake could never occur?
