Doctor Treating Victims of the Hamas Massacre

Dr. Shlomo Gensler, an Orthodox physician and father of four, found himself driving on the Sabbath to treat victims of the Hamas massacre.

He recalled the initial moments vividly in an interview with Aish.com. He had been at synagogue with his family when the first sirens went off in Jerusalem. Initially, no one knew what to expect.

Gensler works in the Intensive Care Unit at Hadassah hospital as his day job, but also volunteers with United Hatzolah. He got a call that morning asking him to assist people over the phone who had needed medical guidance. Those who were calling in were trapped in Israeli communities along the border and could not safely get out due to heavy terrorist fighting. At this point, he still didn’t understand exactly what was going on. His first call was a dire one.

"She explained to me that her father had both arms and legs blown off. He had bullet wounds to his torso," Gensler said. They were trapped in Kfar Aza.

“I asked the army to help them and they said no, and that they were overwhelmed,” Dr. Gensler explained. “When I called again, the family was trapped inside the mamad (safe room), and I heard bullets flying.”

Following this, Gensler was asked to venture down to the south. He went to what he called the “staging point” where Hatzolah had set up a make-shift workstation. Dr. Gensler loaded up his intensive care jeep with equipment, took an EMT with him and together, the two made their way.

By the time they arrived at the scene around 12 noon, the area had already become a war-torn landscape and the two witnessed the brutal aftermath of the conflict. Gensler said it looked like scenes he’d envisioned from the Holocaust with cars blown up, flipped over, and houses and fields set on fire.

"We saw hundreds of bodies on the side of the road, people executed outside of their cars and cars crashed off to the side.”

In the town of Netivot, Dr. Gensler set up a triage amidst the chaos, tending to the wounded one after another with the help of fellow medical professionals. Working from the edge of Netivot, the small medical crew started treating patients on the backs of people's cars. People were arriving to the triage point in pick-up trucks and civilian cars. The only people entering the kibbutzim were Hatzolah ambulances and the army.

"We worked together as a team, driven by the knowledge that every second counted," he emphasized. “There was one paramedic who had been there since the morning and he explained the horrific stuff he had seen. And then we started experiencing it.”

At one point, Dr. Gensler remembers working next to five to ten dead bodies. At one point, ZAKA (Israel Search and Rescue) came to take them away and clear the space for the men to work.

The afternoon was relentless, as waves of injured people arrived. Three blocks over from the triage point, a missile fell down next to an apartment building and a mass explosion was heard. Police officers were warning the medics that terrorists had been stealing police cars and killing officers.

“They told us that if you saw a police car coming, it didn't necessarily mean it was safe.”

Dr. Gensler and his team pressed on, creating a lifeline for soldiers and civilians alike, each bearing severe wounds. They worked in tandem with the 669 Combat Rescue Unit, evacuating those in critical condition via helicopter.

In the midst of this chaos, Gensler's expertise proved critical. He addressed life-threatening injuries, from upper airway burns to open chest wounds, providing critical interventions to stabilize patients before moving them to the next stage of treatment.

As dawn approached, the decision was made to venture further into the conflict.

Dr. Gensler reports having seen people who were burned alive, executed and whose bodies were contorted.

“You could see they suffered as they died,” he recounted. “We saw the inhumanity of individuals. Helping the injured was surreal and it took time to set in. We had the opportunity to treat hundreds of people, whether with pain control, bandaging or life-saving measures.”

Gensler and his fellow doctors and medics worked until 6 am.

He reflects on meeting a grandmother who told him that her grandkids were trapped in the mamad (safe room) of one of the homes in Kfar Aza. She knew exactly where they were and wanted to get them out. Dr. Gensler notified the army who then went in and retrieved the kids.

“They told us they saw their parents executed in front of them. Then they told me they were hungry and had not eaten in the last 12 hours,” Dr. Gensler said. “I walked away to cry.”

Dr. Gensler took a moment by himself. He spoke of witnessing their pain, suffering and finally their human need to have food. These new orphans were between eight and ten years old.

Moments later, he returned to his work.

“I’ve been able to reflect on that and talk it over and process it. That moment wasn't the time to do that. It was a time of action.”

Gensler saw terrorists captured by Israel. He noted Israeli officers did not beat up Hamas terrorists. Instead they handcuffed them and allowed them to sit quietly.

“It was something not afforded to the other side,” he said. “The contrast was quite apparent. “

The doctor also spoke of a 90-year-old woman who survived a bullet through her chest because it did not strike any of her organs. The brutality caught all walks of life.

"There was a big dichotomy between the barbarity of these individuals and what they perpetrated to the kindness and charitableness [of Israelis] and people willing to risk their lives for Israel," Dr. Gensler said.

When asked about the volume of patients he treated that day, Dr. Gensler says he treated so many people that he cannot even remember each patient.

“There was a lot of stuff I did really fast without much time to waste. I’ve been treating soldiers after the attack and have become close to them.”

Dr. Gensler was able to arrange a hospital exit for a sergeant who wanted to attend the funerals of two of his friends/comrades who were killed on that heinous day. “I discussed it with a colleague and said he was stable enough. We quickly arranged an ambulance. It was very therapeutic for him. He was able to feel he had enough control to go to his best friends’ funerals. They were fighting together valiantly.”

Because the soldier needed a doctor to supervise him at the funeral, Dr. Gensler accompanied him. “I got to be with him at the funeral of his two closest friends,” he said.

“People are there for each other in a strong way,” Dr. Gensler said. “You see the amount of giving and caring even in a nation that is suffering.”

The 38-year-old grew up between the U.S. and Canada, went to medical school alongside his wife at the Technion medical school (whom he believes is a better, smarter doctor) and decided to stay in Jerusalem and raise a family.

Dr. Gensler reflects on being called into action that fateful day.

“I have a skill set that enables me to be there at a time of need. It's a humbling feeling. I feel honestly privileged to be able to help people and I hope I can do what's right,” he said. “I definitely feel that the cascading of events was something I was able to put years and years of training into moments of real need.”