Israeli ground troops, surviving family members say, sequestered eight members of the Wahdan family, ranging in age from an 18-month-old girl to a 70-year-old grandfather, then dynamited their house in Beit Hanoun, killing all inside.

Four members of the same family were subsequently killed when Israeli drones fired three rockets at the house where they took refuge in Jabaliya camp. The dead included Sanioura Wahdan (20). Her three small boys were sleeping beside her and were among 30 relatives wounded in the second attack. The boys’ father, Ali, has been sent to Egypt for medical care and may not survive. His left leg was amputated and he has a severe head wound.

Eighteen-month-old Mohamed has burn and suture scars on his face and abdomen and cries constantly. His brothers Omar (3) and Mussab (5) were also badly wounded. Mussab refuses to speak or engage with other people. The entire family are descendants of Zaki Wahdan, who was killed along with his wife, a daughter-in-law, four grandchildren and a great grand-daughter when Zaki’s house was blown up on July 27th.

Driven out

Wahdan was four when his family were driven out of Wadi Hanin, near Ramla, in the newly formed state of

Israel

. He had 10 sons and more than 100 grandchildren. The extended family lived with or near their patriarch, as is the custom among Palestinians. The men were construction and agricultural workers and beekeepers. They have no affiliation with

Hamas

.

Zaki Wahdan's home was less than 1km from Israel. From the rubble of his house, one can see the Israeli town of Sderot, which has often been targeted by Hamas rockets. "In the 2012 war, we saw soldiers on the dunes over there," says Ayman Wahdan. "They never shot at us. We don't understand why they attacked us this time."

On July 20th, Israeli special forces entered Beit Hanoun. More than 40 children and grandchildren had already fled Zaki Wahdan's four-storey building to seek safety in schools and in Jabaliya. Of the 15 who remained, the soldiers took seven men at gunpoint to the Erez crossing point, where they were questioned for three days about Hamas and why they had stayed in the house. Then they were given laissez passer documents and warned not to return to Beit Hanoun, so they joined other family members in Jabaliya.

During the night of July 26th-27th, Mohamed Wahdan (20) received a call from his sister Zeinab, who had stayed in the Beit Hanoun house. Mohamed was one of the seven men taken to Israel.

“Zeinab said: ‘There is something strange going on. We are frightened,’” Mohamed recalls. “She said: ‘The Israelis put us all in one room and said we would be safe if we didn’t go out. They said don’t open the door for anyone. I think they put dynamite in the house.’”

Only limbs found

When Mohamed Wahdan returned to Beit Hanoun, he found seven charred legs in the rubble. He knew immediately which brother or sister they belonged to. He recognised one leg to be that of his grandmother, Soaad. The limbs were buried in a single grave in Beit Lahiya cemetery.

From the pile of rubble comes a smell of decomposing flesh. The family last week appealed to a leading Hamas official and to the head of the municipality to send a bulldozer so they can retrieve the rest of the bodies, to no avail.

The Consolidated Contractors Company estimates that the war left 2.5 million tonnes of rubble. But there are only two bulldozers in the entire Gaza Strip, says the economist Hamed Jad. "There were four before the war, but the Israelis bombed two," Jad explains.

Mohamed Wahdan lost two grandparents, his mother, four siblings and a niece in the house. His father, Hatem, who had been taken to Israel with Mohamed and five others, was killed in the August 3rd rocket attack that killed four more Wahdans in Jabaliya.

Khadija Wahdan (29) recounts the Jabaliya attack: "We were sleeping in two rooms. I was in the one where the rockets exploded. I was surrounded by dead bodies. I called their names and they didn't answer. I ran outside with my face burning and my hair on fire. There was a cement block on my mother's head ..."

Mohamed Wahdan chain-smokes and shows little emotion. “I come here every day to talk to my family and to look for their things,” he says, standing in the rubble. “I know they are below me when I’m here, and I tell them to rest in peace.”