‘The situation is far from funny, but you have to keep your sanity': Israeli families endure uncertain nights in cramped bomb shelters

CNN

4 hours ago

Red alert sirens warning of incoming fire have sent Israelis scrambling to bomb shelters over the last three nights, as Iran and Israel have broadened their deadly attacks on each other.
Israeli law demands that all homes and industrial buildings built since the early 1990s have shelters, but for years they were an afterthought, often used as an extra storage room and packed with extraneous belongings. Now, Israeli citizens have had little choice but to ready the tiny rooms for long stays.
In central Israel, Rivi Ginzburg laid out two mattresses for her three grandchildren, along with some toys and coloring books.
'We just don't know,' she told CNN, and sighed. 'They always prepare us to be here for an extended period of time, so we stocked up on snacks, water and, more importantly, prepared for the kids.'
This feeling of uncertainty – of not knowing what comes next or how this ends – has pervaded families across the country. Israel has vowed to continue its attacks on Iran, while Iran has said its retaliation will not stop.
After hours glued to the TV and the latest updates on their cell phones, Ginzburg's family prepared for another night racing between the bedrooms and the bomb shelter. Their unity has blunted the edge of the tensions, if only slightly.
'You can laugh when you're with kids and family at home,' Ginzburg said. 'The situation is far from funny, but you have to keep your sanity, you have to keep your normality with the family.'
The bomb shelters have not offered infallible protection. An Iranian ballistic missile hit a family's shelter in Petah Tikva early on Monday morning, killing people inside, according to Lt. Col. Tali Versano Eisman, a representative of Israel's Homefront Command.
'There was a direct hit there on the wall of the bomb shelter,' said Eisman. '(In) the bomb shelter above and the bomb shelter below, the people came out without injury. Still, the bomb shelter is the best and safest place to be.'
In an apartment building in Rehovot, Mor Moria Shipony has tried to hide the stress from her three children. 'There's no escape, nowhere to go,' she told CNN. When sirens force the residents into the aging shelter, Shipony grabs what has become her survival bag, filled with chargers, water and snacks, and leads the family downstairs. Packed with 30 people, she says the shelter quickly grows hot and cramped.
'The children are asking when all of this would end, and I just don't have the answers,' Shipony said. 'It's frustrating. I can't assure them that everything will be fine. There's nothing I can do except for waking them up in the middle of the night and take them down to the shelter.'
Shipony has tried to explain to her family the existential threat Israel sees in Iran, but told CNN that has been difficult.
'It's very hard not to bring our own political views into this, having a prime minister attempting to survive politically,' she said. 'It's hard to answer all of that, and often (the children) would ask questions which we just don't have the answer to – so we simply tell them that we'll all do the best we can.'
Noy Bitan, a student at Hebrew University, left her apartment in Jerusalem for her parents' home in Ashdod, a coastal city about 20 miles north of Gaza. Her apartment has no shelter, so she has to run for cover to reach the shared shelter that connects her parents' house to the neighbors.
The shelter – which she says is 'just a few square meters in size' – has to fit 10 people with room for only four chairs. Whoever is holding a child gets a seat, Bitan said.
'Everyone tries to keep calm,' Bitan added, 'and usually we manage.'