Fending Off the Invaders

For more than 700 years, Deir Yassin was home to some 750 residents—including three of my grandparents. Thankfully all three managed to escape. Others, of course, were not so lucky.

On the day of the massacre, my father’s parents had been married for a little over a year, and had a 40-day-old baby. My grandmother escaped with my aunt in her arms, but I am not sure how, as my grandfather was helping defend the village with the other men. He finally escaped, carrying his 5-year-old sister on his back and a rifle in each hand.

My maternal grandmother was 9 years old at the time of the attack, and my great uncle, Mahmoud Attyah-Akel, was the watchman that night. Were it not for him, I probably would not be here today—in fact, it’s likely that no one would have left Deir Yassin alive.

On Friday morning, April 9, a villager went to gather water from a well in order to cleanse himself for morning prayer. At that moment, my great uncle fired a shot from his rifle. The old man who was gathering water yelled, “Hey, don’t you see me, Mahmoud, filling up my bucket of water?”

“I see you,” my great uncle replied. “But, look what is below you. The Jews are climbing up the hill planning to attack us.”

The old man looked down and saw the Jewish attackers getting closer to the village. “Sound the alarm, Mahmoud!” he shouted. “Sound the alarm! The Jews are attacking us!”

My great uncle fired his rifle into the air so the whole village would wake up. And they did. When my great-grandmother heard that the village was being invaded, she helped her three young children escape through the kitchen window. One of these lucky souls was my grandmother, along with her older brother (who was 12) and younger brother (who was 5). They were barefoot and in their sleepwear as they followed those neighbors who were able to escape before the terrorists began to gain control of the village.

The men in the village stood side by side with my great uncle to defend their beloved village. They fought for five hours, driving the invaders off the high ground. Had it not been for a small group of about 17 members of an elite Palmach unit which came to help out and rescue their Jewish brothers, the villagers of Deir Yassin would have prevailed.

Within an hour, the Palmach had defeated the resistance. The commando general then ordered his soldiers to leave, for this was not their battle. It was clear to him, however, that the Irgun and Stern Gang had performed poorly in battle.

It was about 11 in the morning when the Palmach troops departed. Ashamed that their 120 fighters could not accomplish in five hours what 17 Palmach soldiers had achieved in one, the Irgun and Stern Gang terrorists took their anger out on the remaining residents—mostly old people, women and children—who were hiding in their homes. Rampaging through the village, the attackers entered house after house, lined the family members against a wall, and began shooting at them.

Finally, around 4 or 5 o’clock, a group of religious Jews from Giv’at Sha’ul went over to Deir Yassin and started yelling at the terrorists that the village should never have been attacked because it was a peaceful village which had not gotten involved with the fighting. After half an hour of both sides shouting at each other, the massacre and rampage came to an end.

While I am unsure of how many members of my grandfather’s side of the family died that day, approximately 25 members of my grandmothers’ families were killed. I am very proud to say that the last three villagers who attempted to fend off the invaders were my great grandmother, Sara Attyah–Akel; my great grandfather, Mohammed Attyah–Akel; and my great uncle, Mahmoud Attyah–Akel. May they all rest in peace.

By Lubna Jaber, Palos Park, IL.