"How I rescued my family from Ukraine"

Iris Atzmon, a process engineer at Intel Kiryat Gat, tells how her family was rescued from Ukraine. This is her Story.

Friday, March 4 2022

I made the daily telephone call to my babushka that day. It was not an easy task. She and my grandfather live on the outskirts of Kiyv in a multi-story, soviet style complex. They have nowhere to run to when the sirens go off. Babushka told me grandpa has not yet returned not home since he left earlier in an attempt to withdraw cash from the ATM. Right then, the sirens sounded, and he saw a Russian aircraft intercepted right in front of his eyes. She added, and I could sense how frightened she was, that they were feeling they were going to die. I realized I must do something to get them out of Kiyv. I asked her if they would be prepared to leave everything behind if I helped them get out. She consulted with granddad and got back to me to say they would, but that they had no idea how to do it. They are 75 years old; they have no car or driving license, and there is no way to get to the border.

I posted a message on a Facebook group for tourists in Kiyv, including our photos, and asked for help. Someone sent me a phone number of someone called Matan, saying he could help.

The intricate operation starts here. I talked with Matan on Friday night. He promised me he would get them out with the help of the foreign ministry.

It then dawned on me that I could not rescue my grandparents and leave my grandma’s 86-year old sister and a Holocaust survivor, her son, his wife, and their daughter behind. Six people in all. My family.

I told them to pack up and be ready.

Saturday, March 5

Matan confirms my family should go to the great Kiyv Synagogue, where they will board the rescue bus. A helpful neighbor helped me find someone to take them there by car. I was terribly worried at this point, but Matan said no Jews will be left behind.

The bus left towards Moldova, 40 km from where the Russian troops were stationed. Shooting went on there, and the bombarding tore down a few bridges. Cellular reception was terrible most of the time, adding to the mounting fear and uncertainty. My family arrived at the border 12 hours later and was told to stay aboard the bus till morning.

Meanwhile, at the “war room” we set up at home, I was on the line with the foreign ministry regarding ways to help my family cross the border, including my grandma’s nephew, who’s under 60 and must stay in Ukraine. They crossed the border on Sunday at 14:00 but the nephew reunited with them only at 21:00. A volunteer bus took all of them to a military base-turned refugee camp in Kishinev. My exhausted grandma fainted when she saw the conditions there. They only had a few plastic bags with them. not even toothbrushes. I could not leave them there.

Monday, March 7

I kept pulling every lead I had. With Matan’s help, my family was now at the consul office with hundreds of other people. They were told to come back in one week. I talked with the consul and convinced him to let the elderly stay. The three entered Moldova with documents attesting to their Judaism (the most critical thing they packed!). The others were let in later that day. By evening, they were all holding onto their Aliyah visas.

Tuesday, March 8

With the help of the Friendship Foundation, my family is transferred to a resort village 30 minutes from Kishinev, where they were fed and given beds to rest. My grandma’s sister told the people there about her escape during World War 2, becoming an instant celebrity. She even gave an interview to a media outlet.

I meanwhile learned that several rescue flights are planned to depart to Israel, even though Moldova was closed for air traffic. So I needed to get my family on the airplane. My attempts yielded results two days later. My family now had visas and was going to arrive in Israel on Sunday!

I started preparing for them. Together with other family relatives, we decided to host the newcomers in two houses. I got my house ready, buying clothes, bed linen, and towels, everything a persons stripped of their entire belongings overnight might need.

Sunday, March 13

No words will ever capture how I felt when the airplane landed at Ben Gurion Airport. I was so happy and moved.

Now is the time to find out what the next steps are. Where will they stay in the long run? How could I help them mingle in the new land? What about work? Everything is unclear and messy, but I am far more relaxed now.

If there’s one thing I learned this week, it is that nothing is impossible. Just set a clear target and then mobilize the means to get it. I may have doubted this philosophy before, but not anymore, in my personal life or elsewhere.