A 63-Year-Old Medical Worker Spent Three Months as a Human Shield for Israeli Brigades in Gaza
“They dressed me in military uniform, and asked me to search in homes for explosives.”
Israel’s rampant use of Palestinian civilians as human shields in Gaza and the West Bank is well documented. Reportedly known as the “mosquito protocol,” Israeli soldiers force Palestinians to inspect buildings, tunnels, and other sites. Israel has denied this practice, despite a growing body of evidence—including quotes from Israeli soldiers themselves, who say the practice is used, in part, to spare combat dogs from injury and death. In Gaza, Israel’s use of human shields has become ubiquitous.
Yahya Al-Qassas risked his life to write the story you are about to read, entering a displacement zone in Khan Younis to interview Jameel al-Masri, a 63-year-old Palestinian man who was forced to be a human shield for three months.
Watch a video interview conducted with al-Masri by Uncaptured Media.
The Israeli military told Drop Site they investigated al-Masri’s case based on the information we provided them, which included his government ID; the dates and location of his detention; the name of the battalion and company; as well as names of officers and soldiers involved. “The use of Palestinians as human shields, or otherwise coercing them to participate in military operations, is strictly prohibited in IDF orders,” said a spokesperson, adding:
The orders have been routinely emphasized to the forces in the course of the war.
Allegations of misconduct in this regard are thoroughly examined.
No identifying details have been provided that would allow verification of these claims. If further details are presented, the matter will be thoroughly investigated.
Allegations of conduct that does not comply with these directives and procedures are examined. In several cases, investigations by the Military Police Criminal Investigation Division were opened following suspicions of involving Palestinians in military missions. These investigations are ongoing, and naturally, no further details can be provided at this time.
Drop Site provided additional information, including the name of the platoon (Latak) and the group (November 23rd Group). If additional comment is provided, it will be added to the article.
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Story by Yahya Al-Qassas
KHAN YOUNIS, GAZA—In October of 2024, 63-year-old Jameel Al-Masri, a Palestinian man from Beit Hanoun, was working on the staff of Indonesian Hospital while the Israeli military was carrying out what was known as “the Generals’ Plan,” an effort to depopulate major swaths of Gaza. His job was to help move patients and families through the hospital as safely as possible, a task that went from difficult to impossible as Israel began attacking the area around the hospital in mid-October. Jameel fled with his family to El-Fawka school, seeking refuge.
But it didn’t matter. Israeli troops came days later, besieged the school, and ordered everyone south.
“I am a hospital employee that gets his salary from the Palestinian Authority and don’t even work for the government in Gaza. Previously I worked for decades in Israel and spoke Hebrew. I have nothing to do with politics.”
Near the UN supply center, Israeli soldiers set up a checkpoint and began rounding up all the men in fives. Jameel was among them. While waiting near a detention center, a soldier shouted: “Who knows Hebrew?” Jameel noticed two women had also been abducted and assumed they needed a translator. He stepped forward.
“I do.”
That moment changed everything. Soldiers with Israel’s Givati Brigade pulled him aside and interrogated him about his Hebrew. He told them he’d worked in Israel for over 30 years. They blindfolded him and threw him into an armored personnel carrier, an APC. No charges. No explanation.
When the blindfold came off, he got his first glimpse of a man he had been lying on top of, held like cargo on the floor. They stayed like that for a full day. Jameel still remembers his name: Wael AbdelLatif Abo Amsha.
The next day, soldiers told them:
“You’re going to help us get people out of the schools. It’s a two-day job, then you’ll go home. You don’t have anything on you in our system.”
They dressed him in a vest. He complied, as he did not have any other choice. The soldiers had lied to him: months of torment were ahead.
A week passed. No release. Only beatings, shouting, humiliation, and filth thrown at them.
“We need to empty all the schools,” they said. “You will stay here and then go home.”
The first school Jameel was forced to clear out was in Beit Hanoun. He was ordered to head to the school, put the displaced civilians in lines and move them out. Then came something else. Soldiers would force him to enter destroyed and burned-out homes – alone. The APC door would open and he would be told to get out—dressed in an IDF uniform—and search inside. A drone hovered over him, emitting a voice that directed him where to go.
Once he cleared the home, the drone filmed everything. Then soldiers stormed in, planted explosives on the support pillars, and later blew up the house. That was the cycle. Again and again. House after house.
The military unit changed every month, but Jameel stayed. Three different units. He was their tool. Every week or two, he was dragged back into the field.
Jameel was sick. He had heart problems, had undergone stent placement, and was often short of breath. Eventually, they realized he couldn’t keep up, and used him less and less over the three months of his abduction.
One night, when a unit was preparing to leave, they shouted at him as he lay on the stairs, weapons drawn. They ordered him to clean their kitchen. He thought he was finally going home.
Instead, they sat him down and resumed their game, asking about his Hebrew. One of them loaded his weapon behind him, pointing it at his head, playing around, laughing.
“I didn’t care. I don’t know what’s on their mind. I was waiting every day for the ceasefire to go home.”
Every few days they repeated the same promise:
“Don’t worry. One week or ten days and you’ll go home.”
Meanwhile, he was fed one piece of bread and a single can of tuna per day. During the first week, they gave him nothing.
I asked Jameel about his conditions. He didn’t hesitate:
“Sleep was very, very hard. You sleep on the stairs and floor.”
Weapons pointed at his face, constantly. Orders barked. Sent into dangerous ruins, alone, following a drone. No protection. No dignity. No choice.
Did the army give him anything for protection?
“They would dress me in a vest and give me a military uniform.”
He asked them why.
“Because we don’t want the drone above you to shoot you.”
The soldiers were young. Barely in their twenties. They spoke broken Arabic. Names he remembers: Sion, Dany, Ido, Benjamin.
Jameel recounts another night: he was lying down when a soldier jumped on him, weapon aimed.
“You have 2 minutes to get ready.”
Jameel was sent to scan homes in Jabaliya. If he took too long, hesitated, or moved too slowly from sheer exhaustion, the soldiers cursed him, kicked him, and beat him without warning.
“Son of a bitch.”
“What a dog.”
He saw corpses on the streets.
Another time, soldiers ordered him to clean the kitchen. One pointed a machine gun at him while the other filmed. They threatened him, saying:
“Now it’s your time.”
Then they laughed and said it was a joke. It wasn’t the first time. Another unit had done the same thing.
“But at least I thought they won’t kill me inside the room. Maybe outside. They don’t want blood where they sleep. They’re afraid of blood and bodies.”
Jameel had to ask for permission to use the bathroom. The humiliation was constant. And the accusations too.
“You did October 7, you handed out candies.”
Jameel answered:
“What do I have to do with that? Nothing. I go every day to work and back.”
But the soldier replied:
“No! It’s all of you. You were all silent. They told me. They didn’t care. They weren’t asking. They were provoking.”
Even among themselves, they were violent. Jameel heard them shouting, mocking, bragging. Talking casually about killing.
“I sniped this guy.”
“I shot like that.”
He heard soldiers talk about their post-service trips to Thailand, to the UK, about Trump, about a ceasefire so they could go home. He remembers soldiers speaking about an incident in which one of their colleagues died after playing with a grenade in Jabaliya.
“I am very psychologically impacted.”
His family lived in agony.
“They thought I was killed. They didn’t inform them of where I was. If it wasn’t for a guy I evacuated from a school during my mission to tell my family I was okay, they would have thought I was dead.”
Jameel Al-Masri was released on January 20, 2025, the first day of the ceasefire after being abducted on October 18, 2024 from Jabaliya Refugee Camp. Even when he returned to his family, he couldn’t believe it.
“It took me an entire month to forget what I just went through. I would wake up and still think I was abducted.”
He suffers from a prolapsed disc due to the beatings by soldiers. He was deprived of his medication for high blood pressure. After release, doctors found narrowed arteries. He’s on meds now, and physically better. But his mind is still in captivity.
Following his release, Al-Masri remained in Khan Younis despite orders to leave. His family did not find another place to stay and cannot afford a tent. There are now sheltering in a school.
Younis Tirawi and Maira Pinheiro contributed reporting.
Thank goodness for Drop Site.
Israel always accuses Hamas of actions which they know to be untrue, but this is what they do. This has been the same over the years and sadly continues. I am aware of too many people who don't realise (or is it accept??) that this is what happens.
Just one of the thousands and thousands of nightmares!