SINCE Israel escalated its war on Lebanon on 2nd March, more than 120 healthcare workers have been killed, many of them in deliberate double-tap strikes on the rescue crews sent to recover the dead and wounded.
An excavator perched on what had once been a family home in Deir Qanoun Al-Nahr, in southern Lebanon, shifting broken concrete from one edge of the crater to the other was killed.
Rescue workers in fluorescent vests clawed at the rubble with their hands. Among them was Ahmed Hariri, a paramedic and photojournalist.
Dust rose from the wreckage as the men dug for any sign of life, or death. ‘There’s something here!’ one of them shouted, pulling a bloodstained slab of concrete free.
The others rushed over and dug faster. Somewhere beneath the flattened house lay the remains of three people missing since Wednesday after an Israeli airstrike a day earlier killed 14, including four children, in one of the deadliest single attacks in Lebanon for weeks.
Ten of the dead were three generations of the same family. A Syrian family of four died alongside them.
‘Look,’ one rescue worker said, lifting a schoolbag coated in grey dust, notebooks and children’s books still inside. ‘This belonged to one of the kids.’ In the distance, more airstrikes echoed across the landscape.
Barely two days later, Ahmed Hariri was killed alongside two other paramedics in another Israeli airstrike on Deir Qanoun Al-Nahr that left five people dead.
That attack had followed an overnight strike on Thursday in Hannawiyah which killed four paramedics, wounded five more, and destroyed both the town’s main Health Authority centre and a newly established ambulance station in Tyre.
The killing of rescue workers and the targeting of medical infrastructure has been one of the most brazen features of Israel’s war on Lebanon.
For the past five weeks, the aerial and ground assault has continued despite a nominal ceasefire announced by US President Donald Trump on 16 April.
Last week, Israel and Lebanon agreed a 45-day extension of that ceasefire after a third round of direct talks in Washington – to which Hezbollah is not party.
The declaration has not stopped the Israeli military bombarding the country, mostly in the south and the eastern Bekaa Valley.
Since 2nd March, Israel has killed more than 3,100 people across Lebanon and wounded over 9,400, according to the Lebanese Ministry of Health. More than 900 of those deaths have come since the so-called ceasefire took effect.
Israel claims to be targeting Hezbollah fighters and ‘terrorist infrastructure’.
On the ground, civilians make up the overwhelming majority of the victims, and residential homes and civilian infrastructure have been systematically demolished.
At least nine journalists have been killed in 2026 alone, making Lebanon the deadliest country in the world for journalists this year. Israel has also attacked emergency and medical workers with frightening regularity.
More than 120 healthcare workers have been killed and over 260 wounded in Israeli airstrikes since 2nd March. At least 139 ambulances and 16 hospitals have been damaged, forcing three hospitals to close.
The Ministry of Health has accused Israel of systematically targeting the medical sector and its staff. Rather than denying it, Israel has repeatedly claimed, without evidence, that Hezbollah uses ambulances and medical facilities for military purposes.
Rescue teams describe a consistent pattern of double, and sometimes triple, tap strikes, where a site is hit a second or third time as emergency crews arrive.
‘We try to be careful and take safety precautions before interventions, like waiting ten minutes to avoid the double taps,’ said Abdullah Halal, the rescue team leader at the Civil Defence station in Nabatieh.
Even those precautions have not been enough. Last week, Halal lost two of his colleagues in a double-tap strike.
On 12 May, an Israeli drone struck a tuk-tuk in Nabatieh. The driver was wounded but survived, and made his way to the Civil Defence centre for help.
When two rescue workers, Hussein Jaber and Ahmad Noura, came out to assist him, a second strike hit the area, killing all three men and wounding a female paramedic.
‘I was only 20 metres away. I saw everything,’ said Hussein Saad, a 23-year-old Civil Defence worker, at the funeral for the two paramedics in Saida the following day. His eyes were swollen and red. He stopped mid-sentence as tears overcame him again.
The grief at the funeral was loud and raw. Mourners wept, shouted final goodbyes, or stood frozen in shock. As the bodies were carried through the streets, fists were raised and the crowd chanted: ‘Death to Israel.’
Many of the mourners were Jaber and Noura’s colleagues, men who had shared shifts and rescue missions with them.
‘They are not just colleagues, we are all brothers. I’ve known Ahmad for 20 years. Hussein for ten. This is very difficult for us,’ Halal said.
Across Lebanon, hospitals and medical centres have become both workplace and home for rescue workers. Beside Najda Hospital in Nabatieh, mattresses cover the floor of a large room where the Nabatieh Ambulance Association team sleeps, rests, and waits for the next call.
Their families have evacuated. They have stayed.
‘It’s hard to leave everything behind,’ said Ali Rida Hammoud, a paramedic with the team. ‘It’s hard to see my family and my people suffering, trying to find shelter or a safe place. It’s like a double-edged sword: either you leave everything or you stay and may die.’
Shortly after Israel’s escalation began on 2nd March, human rights groups condemned the attacks on medical workers.
‘Healthcare workers are risking their lives to save others, and hospitals, other medical facilities and ambulances are specifically protected under international humanitarian law,’ Kristine Beckerle, Amnesty International’s Deputy Regional Director for the Middle East, said in a statement on 19 March.
‘Deliberately striking medics performing their humanitarian functions is a serious violation of international humanitarian law and could constitute a war crime.’
Last Tuesday, Israel issued displacement orders for parts of Nabatieh, including the area around Najda Hospital, one of the last functioning medical hubs in the district.
Nurses, doctors and rescue teams had already regrouped there after several of their own emergency centres were destroyed in earlier strikes. The work continues regardless.
‘The Israelis have a history of violating rules, including targeting medical crews. Despite this, nothing stops us or pushes us away from continuing this work,’ said Mahdi Sadiq, executive director of the ambulance association.
‘It is the belief that we must stand by our people, save them, and help those who remain.
‘This is part of our mission in life, and we are ready to sacrifice for it.
‘This is a job that involves risks, and we have been aware of that possibility from day one,’ he added. ‘What drives us is our humanitarian sense, and our national values.’
In Nabatieh, streets that once bustled are eerily silent except for the roar of Israeli warplanes overhead. Buildings are scarred by airstrikes and entire blocks stand abandoned.
‘Over there, Joud and Ali were killed while delivering food to civilians,’ said one rescue worker, who asked not to be named, pointing down the street.
He was referring to the 24 March strike that killed his colleagues Joud Souleiman, 16, and Ali Jaber, 19, as they rode their scooter into central Nabatieh to deliver hot meals.
A few blocks on, he gestured again. ‘And there, Hussein and Ahmad were killed while trying to rescue the wounded.
‘Mahdi was also killed, together with three other paramedics in Mayfadoun,’ he said, naming 40-year-old Mahdi Abou Zeid, killed in an Israeli strike on 15 April.
‘I have collected the remains of my friends. We have no other choice,’ he said. As he spoke, an explosion shook the valley beyond the city, followed by another airstrike.
The team glanced at the smoke rising behind the hills. ‘It’s time to go,’ one of them said.
