“Are you from Israel? Are you from Israel?" Those words, spoken by two little girls hiding inside a car near the Sderot police station on the morning of October 7, have stayed with Staff Sgt. Maj. Rami Cohen for the past three years.
Moments earlier, he had leaned into the vehicle and discovered a young woman who had been shot in the head. When he identified himself as a police officer, the two girls suddenly emerged from the back of the car. Moments later, heavy gunfire erupted from the direction of the station.
Three years after Hamas’ brutal massacre, Cohen returned to the battlefield in Sderot. In a special interview from Israel National News - Arutz Sheva broadcasting position near the Gaza border, established to mark three years since the October 7 attack, he recounts rescuing the girls, the battle in which he was seriously wounded, and the long rehabilitation process that still lies ahead.
“I put my head inside a car that was standing at the entrance to the station, and there I saw a young woman next to the driver’s seat with a bullet in her head," he recalls. “Then I shouted, ‘Police, police, police. We have a dead woman here.’ And then two little girls jumped out from behind me: ‘Are you from Israel? Are you from Israel?’ And then insane gunfire started coming from the direction of the station."
At the time, the Sderot police station was the scene of a fierce battle against Hamas terrorists. According to Cohen, 26 armed terrorists arrived at the station and took control of parts of the building after killing numerous police officers. Some of the terrorists reached the roof, where the fighting continued.
Despite the heavy gunfire, a police officer and a prison guard who were at the scene managed to reach the vehicle where the girls were hiding. The officer opened the door, and the two men pulled the girls out and ran with them northward, away from the gunfire.
Cohen remained behind at the scene of the battle.
“I didn’t go back. I entered the battle with bullets flying over my head," he says. At one point, he spotted a terrorist watching him from the station’s gym.
“I looked back and saw a terrorist in the gym looking at me. He was wearing a green bandana. And then I said, ‘Rami, it’s over. You have to make a move to survive.’"
Cohen tried to get out of the line of fire, but within seconds he was hit by heavy gunfire at close range. He says the terrorist fired 14 bullets at him from a distance of approximately 15 meters.
Even after being wounded, Cohen continued crawling across the grass near the station as bullets whizzed over his head.
“I started crawling, and here I am on this grass, with bullets whizzing over my head from 15 meters away," he recalls. “And I didn’t lose my bearings. I kept crawling, kept crawling."
During those moments, he says, a Yamam counterterrorism officer who was in the area managed to fire at the terrorist who had shot him. Another man who arrived between the vehicles managed to pull Cohen to safety.
For approximately two hours, Cohen lay wounded beneath the front of a vehicle, waiting to be rescued. Only then did two combat soldiers arrive and evacuate him from the scene.
Asked whether he feared for his life during those hours, Cohen gives a brief answer:
“I came to war, and I gave my soul for the war."
Three years have passed since that morning, but his injuries continue to affect him. Cohen says approximately 200 shrapnel fragments remain in his body, primarily on his left side. He is still dealing with the consequences of his wounds and is expected to undergo additional medical treatments, and possibly surgeries.
“I carry with me many stories of friends who were murdered here at the station. Rehabilitation is not easy," he says. “I have 200 shrapnel fragments here on my left side, and I’m supposed to begin a process of treatments, perhaps surgeries."
Despite his injuries and the fact that he is already past retirement age, Cohen returned to the police force. Even when he returns to the place where he nearly lost his life, he wears his uniform.
“We, in our faith, continued. We went back to work even though I’m past retirement age, and we kept moving forward," he says.
For Cohen, wearing the uniform is also a way of carrying the memory of the police officers who fell defending the station.
“For the memory of my friends, for the memory of the people of Israel, so that we will never fall," he says. “The people of Israel live and endure. We will not fall."
One of the moments etched into the public memory from that morning is the little girl’s voice asking Cohen whether he was “from Israel." The recording became one of the defining stories of the rescue of civilians in Sderot. For Cohen, it remains an inseparable part of the battle.
Asked what those words mean to him, he returns to the moment he entered the car without knowing that two little girls were hiding inside.
“It surrounds me, as a Jew, as a police officer, as a citizen, that I came to save lives that were in the hands of accursed murderers, who had taken the lives of their mother and father," he says.
Cohen stresses that he had no idea the girls were inside the vehicle. He had come to the scene on his own initiative after being on leave and wanted to see what was happening at the station.
“I didn’t know they existed," he says. “On my own initiative, as a police officer who wanted to know what was happening, I put my head inside. Then, when I shouted, they jumped out. They connected, through their emotional strength, despite what they had experienced, to my voice, to the police officer."
Alongside his own story, Cohen wants to remember the friends who fought at the Sderot police station. He says the officers were among the first to confront the terrorists, and their battle prevented the terrorists from advancing into other parts of the city.
“The police officers were on the front line, in the initial stages, during the containment - the real containment," he says. “They stood here like a stake in the ground."
According to Cohen, the heavy price paid by the officers that morning was part of the effort to prevent further harm to Sderot residents.
“They made sure the terrorists would not be able to get out and continue massacring civilians who were on their way to pray," he says. “The police officers here saved lives."
Cohen, who lives in Sderot and has served there for many years, continues to follow the city he fought for and was wounded defending.
Three years after the massacre, he believes the city has returned to its normal rhythm.
“I’ve been here for many, many years, both in my position and as a resident," he says. “I think it’s coming back. It has returned to itself. Not ‘coming back’ - it has returned."
Even today, as he continues to carry the physical scars of the battle and undergo rehabilitation, Cohen refuses to see himself or his fellow officers as people who were defeated that morning.
“The people of Israel live and endure," he says. “We will not fall."