As told to the author, this is a first person account by Ido Sinvani, a 22-year-old survivor of the massacre that
You’re supposed to run for cover, but where do you hide in an open desert? Everyone looked confused, then people started to lay on the ground. There were 3,000 revelers just laying there silent and waiting. After about half an hour, the security guards yelled: “Yalla! Get up, get in your car and go!”
Being from the North, I’m not so familiar with this region, but I know my way around rugged terrain from my army training. We looked for a low-lying creek where if a bomb blew up or shots were being fired, they wouldn't ricochet off a surface and hit us. We found a bush and hid inside, removing jewelry, sunglasses and anything bright or reflective, camouflaging ourselves with dirt, branches and leaves.we’re either going to die here or worse, get kidnapped.
We were stuck, disconnected, wondering if or when we’d be saved, listening to the boom of nearby explosions and the relentless drill of gunshots fired at a rapid pace, while our attackers chanted “Allahu Akbar!” and in Arabic, “Kill all the Jews!” “Rape all their women!” The stench of hundreds of bodies is a smell I’ll never forget. Corpses were scattered everywhere, completely obscuring the stage floor. Some were burnt, others had limbs torn off, still others were beheaded, and some were still on fire. Nothing prepares you for something like this.
By around 4 p.m. or 5 p.m.—honestly I have no idea—we heard people nearby. They were dressed in police uniforms, but I thought for sure they were terrorists.