“The reason we’re so successful every day, especially on Oct. 7,” says Eli Beer, president and founder of United Hatzalah, “is because we had people everywhere ready to jump. We are the jumpers.”
United Hatzalah is Israel’s largest independent, nonprofit, fully volunteer emergency medical service organization, responding to almost 2,000 emergencies daily.
Beer says its success stems from its goal to reach every medical emergency in Israel within 90 seconds of receiving a call for help. “We are always on our toes to be ready to jump to save someone’s life. That’s the beauty of United Hatzalah.”
A prophet of doom proven right
For years, Beer has been warning that Israel needed to be prepared for an attack from Hamas and Hezbollah. Though he says that he was criticized as a prophet of doom, he prepared United Hatzalah for the possibility of a mass attack by stocking close to 40 tons of medical supplies at the organization’s logistics center in central Israel, near Beit Shemesh.
“At United Hatzalah, I have always said we have to be ready. And on Oct. 7, we had more readiness and preparedness than any other organization.”
Beer says that “united,” the first word of the organization’s name, points to the fact that it brings together different people of disparate backgrounds to save lives. “We have 750 Arab volunteers, many of whom helped us on Oct. 7,” he says. “The first volunteer of United Hatzalah who was killed was an Arab volunteer. We have haredi volunteers, and we unite the communities in this mission.”
The singular variety among the thousands of United Hatzalah volunteers, says Beer, was graphically illustrated when he arrived at the United Hatzalah headquarters in Jerusalem on the morning of Oct. 7. “I saw our volunteers running out of synagogue toward United Hatzalah wearing their tallitot. When they ran into the building, they threw the tallit on the couch at the entrance to the building. Some were sitting down answering phones in the dispatch center wearing their tallitot.”
For Beer, the scenes were reminiscent of black-and-white photos taken during the Yom Kippur War 50 years earlier, when soldiers ran out of the synagogue to join their army units with their prayer shawls still on their backs. “This was a sight that I will never forget,” he says, “because it really was a sanctification of God’s name, having these hundreds of volunteers come in on that day.”
Some 1,700 United Hatzalah volunteers came to help save lives on Oct. 7, working from dispatch centers, driving ambulances, and performing vital medical services.
“We had an army of civilian volunteers,” recalls Beer. “We did not say no to anyone who offered their help.”
By 8 a.m. that morning, he says, the United Hatzalah team realized that there was a war going on. “The army and the government didn’t know it was a war,” he notes. The sheer volume of calls coming in from different areas to the United Hatzalah dispatch center indicated the gravity of the attack.
When Beer raced to Hatzalah headquarters in Jerusalem that morning, he was initially confused. “It was chaos. There were 556 calls waiting. I thought it was a cyberattack. We never had 556 calls per minute. Usually, we would have seven or eight calls per minute, or 15 at most. I realized that most of the people who were calling were hearing the missiles or [were] people who were getting shot.”
The feeling of war was brought home further when United Hatzalah members started reporting from the field.
“A volunteer of ours was in an area near the site of the Supernova music festival,” says Beer. “We asked, ‘How many dead people do you see there?’ He said, ‘I see 27 bodies in this place.’ Then, the other volunteers said, ‘I see 18,’ and ‘I see 19,’ ‘I see 12.’ We started counting them. We couldn’t believe when we got over 100 dead. I started crying after we got to 100 dead.”
On the line for 12 hours
One of the most dramatic moments of the day in the dispatch center, Beer recalls, took place when a call arrived from a nine-year-old boy in Kfar Aza named Michael. “He said, ‘I’m hiding in a closet with my sister, Amalia. We just saw our parents murdered by terrorists, and our sister Avigail kidnapped.”
Beer and the members of the dispatch center had never received a call such as this, and, at first, thought it was perhaps a fake call generated by AI. Michael continued, “Could you could send someone to help me?”
Convinced that the call was real, the dispatchers connected him with a social worker and trauma expert who volunteers for United Hatzalah. The woman, Dr. Tamar Schlesinger, joined the conversation and spoke with Michael for 12 hours, while the terrorists were looking through the house for more people to murder.
At one point, says Beer, the boy thought he had identified IDF soldiers and was about to open the closet door until Tamar warned him that they were terrorists dressed as soldiers. Michael’s phone battery was about to run out, so Tamar asked him to use his mother’s phone. When Michael said he wasn’t allowed to use her phone because she worked for the Shin Bet (Israel Security Agency), she connected to the agency through United Hatzalah and told them what was happening. It was clear, says Beer, that Hamas wanted to get the children.
Tamar warned them not to open the closet door until they heard the soldiers say, ‘We are IDF soldiers, and we are on the line with Tamar.’ Twelve hours later, the real IDF soldiers arrived, killed the terrorists, and identified themselves with those words.
At that point, he says, “Michael hung up the phone, and we heard the click. That was the greatest moment of that day for us,” says Beer, his voice laden with emotion. “These kids were two out of thousands of people we rescued that day.” (Avigail Idan, aged four, was later released in a hostage exchange deal.)
BY THE end of that day, Beer estimates, United Hatzalah had treated 12,000 people throughout Israel, including soldiers and civilians in southern Israel, individuals who suffered heart attacks or experienced panic attacks, and those involved in traffic accidents. Women in labor who couldn’t reach overcrowded hospitals delivered their babies at home with assistance from Hatzalah volunteers.
“We were in every kibbutz and every yishuv,” says Beer with pride.
Beer is especially proud of his organization’s willingness to do the work that others could not do. United Hatzalah EMTs entered areas in the Gaza border communities when most of the ambulances had left the area, says Beer.
“We were there when the soldiers ran in. We saw them run in, and some of them hitchhiked with our ambulances. Sadly, we gave them a ride out when those same soldiers that we drove in were wounded or killed.
“We fought. We saved lives, and we didn’t say no. Many organizations were instructed not to go in because of the situation, and they stayed outside. We went inside, even if we were instructed not to go.”
Another indication of United Hatzalah’s spirited response on that day evidenced itself when, at 11 a.m. on Oct. 7, the organization had gathered casualties, including 50 seriously wounded people at Heletz Junction, near Sderot. However, says Beer, there were not enough ambulances to transport them because all of the official ambulances were outside the area, and attempting to bring them in was dangerous.
Beer decided to activate United Hatzalah’s helicopter unit, which consists of three helicopters equipped with lifesaving medical supplies and equipment. Israel’s air traffic control was refusing to grant permission for helicopters to fly that day because of the dangers of being struck by missiles, and they had closed the airspace. Beer understood that many of the seriously ill waiting at Heletz Junction would die if they were not airlifted.
“I said, ‘To hell with the government! We’re going to fly our helicopters.’” In response to a warning from the Health Ministry that they would close down Hatzalah if they flew, Beer retorted, “If we don’t do what we are supposed to do, there will be no country.” The helicopters took off, and the patients were taken to be treated. Says Beer with a smile, “We built Hatzalah with chutzpah. We saved more people that day who otherwise would not have been saved because of our chutzpah and our daring.”
Later on Oct. 7, when the picture of the scope and severity of the Hamas attack was clear to all, Beer sent 20 trucks loaded with equipment to the South for use by Hatzalah EMTs, as well as for the army, many of whose bases had been taken over by Hamas at that time. Hatzalah staff distributed travel bags and tourniquets for soldiers to take with them. “We let everyone take without bureaucracy. Just take.”
Once the supply stores had been emptied, Beer organized mass purchases of essential supplies such as bulletproof vests, tourniquets, IVs, travel bags, and additional vehicles. “We were the first to get organized for the next war,” he says.
Readiness for the future
In preparation for the next major conflict, Hatzalah purchased 400 vehicles of all kinds, such as ambucycles, ambulances, SUVs, tractors, and ATV ambulances.
“We know that if we have a major war with Hezbollah,” says Beer, “every area is going to be on its own.” To deal with that potential problem, Beer ordered mobile field hospitals, complete with generators, air-conditioning, and equipment, and specially designed tents that can be used as logistics centers and bedrooms for volunteers.
To ensure an uninterrupted supply of medical needs, the organization is building the Ronson Regional Command Center in Sderot, which will serve as United Hatzalah’s southern region command center, as well as a northern command center in Katzrin.
In addition, United Hatzalah has held advanced discussions with the Health Ministry and the Construction and Housing Ministry regarding the construction of a national logistics center, which Beer expects will soon begin.
Beyond purchasing new equipment, United Hatzalah has provided extensive training in mass casualty incidents for its volunteers. “We are trying to get them ready for a catastrophe from Hezbollah. They are going to shoot missiles at buildings, and we have to be ready to react.” In addition, the organization has trained over 1,000 new volunteers this year at a cost of $10 million.
Beer began volunteering in the back of an ambulance 35 years ago, when he was 15. Since then, he has seen every type of emergency imaginable. But nothing, he says, can compare to the horrors that he witnessed on Oct. 7 and the days following.
United Hatzalah was ready on that day, and he promises it will be prepared should it be needed during another national emergency. In the meantime, it will continue its “routine” activities.
“Whether it’s a baby that’s hurt or someone choking or a heart attack or a war,” says Beer, “we’re there.”