#civil air defence

[uniquethings03]

Indian Airforce Agniveer Vayu Intake 01/2025 Exam Online Form 2024 Extended

Indian Airforce Agniveer Vayu Intake 01/2025 Exam Online Form 2024 Extended

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"A.R.P. Activities Demonstrated by Sandwich East C.D.C.," Windsor Star. July 22, 1943. Page 3. --- SANDWICH EAST Civilian Defence Committee last night gave demonstrations of A.R.P. activities, at an exhibition in Walker Homesites. In the upper left photograph, Sergeant Frank Ednie, 1536 Lincoln road, left, and Superintendent Richard Gooch, 1061 Walker road, centre, are shown checking the bandages on a "patient," Pat Smith, of 1234 Bliss road. Members of the firefighters group are shown at the right at work operating an auxiliary pump. Left to right in the photograph are Messrs. B. A. Sullivan, 1150 Turner road: Wilf Corneil, 1302 Riberdy road; N. H. Walford, 1226 Turner road, and Russell Black, 1151 Turner road. Mr. Black is chief of the firefighters' group, one of the largest and most active in the district.

[allthegeopolitics]

Israeli air strikes on a girls' school in Deir al-Balah, central Gaza, killed at least 30 people and wounded over 100 on Saturday, the Palestinian health ministry said.

Khadija Girls' School was sheltering over 4,000 displaced Palestinians, according to civil defence officials in the enclave. A field hospital was also operating inside the school complex.

“I am so lucky to have survived,” Fadel Keshko, a 22-year-old man who was staying in the school with his sick grandmother and nephew, told Middle East Eye.

“The building I took shelter in was directly targeted. The distance between me and the rocket was just a metre away. I am horrified and terrified.” [...]

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Tagging: @vague-humanoid

[opencommunion]

"An Israeli strike on Sunday killed at least 23 people, including seven children, and wounded six others in Almat, a village in Lebanon's northern Jbeil district, the Lebanese health ministry said.

The ministry said the death toll is likely to rise as rescue workers continue to search for victims under the rubble. It added that body parts retrieved in the aftermath of the attack would undergo DNA testing to identify them.

In south Lebanon, three medics were also killed in an Israeli strike that targeted a Civil Defence vehicle of the Islamic Health Authority in Adloun, in the Saida district. The ministry condemned Israel's repeated targeting of paramedics as a 'war crime.'

Earlier, Lebanese media reported an Israeli strike on a house in the historic eastern city of Baalbek, which was not preceded by an Israeli army 'evacuation' warning.

For the past two days, the Israeli military has conducted a series of air strikes on southern and eastern villages and locations. 

Overnight, more than a dozen Israeli air raids struck the southern suburbs of Beirut, known locally as Dahiyeh, where many buildings have now been almost entirely flattened by nearly two months of heavy bombardment.

On Saturday, Israeli air strikes on southern and eastern Lebanon, including Tyre and the Baalbek-Hermel region, killed at least 40 people, including several children. 

More than 3,130 people have been killed in Lebanon since fighting between Israel and Hezbollah began in October last year, according to Lebanon's health ministry, most of them since September 23, when Israel launched a wide-scale bombing campaign across Lebanon and a ground invasion."

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A lawyer representing grieving family members of a 28-year-old Edmonton man who was fatally shot by a police officer nearly two weeks ago says they are angry and gathering information about what happened. Tom Engel, a criminal defence and civil rights lawyer and frequent critic of the Edmonton Police Service (EPS), said the family wants to know why a police officer shot Mathios Arkangelo while he was holding his hands in the air. "There's absolutely no justification for using lethal force," he told CBC News in an interview on Thursday. The province's police watchdog, the Alberta Serious Incident Response Team (ASIRT), is investigating the shooting, which occurred in daylight on June 29 on a residential street in the Fraser neighbourhood in northeast Edmonton.  Others are also scrutinizing the circumstances around the death of Arkangelo, who was Black.

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Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @abpoli

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: a commission from @tired-lime who's always a darling to work with 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor Kenway x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6.7k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, enemies to lovers, porn with plot, fingering, handjobs, creampies, unprotected sex

You walk as calmly as you can through the narrow alley, not daring to lift your eyes from where they look straight ahead of you and glance towards the rooftops that cast darkness over you, the silvery moonlight gleaming just ahead as the streight leads to the main road. This place is out of sight of the sparse public that might wander past at this time of night, your vision is limited in the darkness it provides and there’s ample opportunity for an overhead ambush. 

All of this puts you at every disadvantage, perhaps, but that’s exactly what you want the man tailing you to think. You keep your eyes straight because Assassins like rooftops. They provide coverage and blindspots, hidden in plain sight as most people simply don’t find themselves looking up with their eyes to the sky as they go about their day and all the tasks that come with it. It’s precisely why you’ll always find an Assassin stalking you from above and never from upon your own level. 

In short, you’re baiting the Assassin above you who has gone to so much care to silence his footsteps and conceal his shadow from your sight. But you’re a Templar. You’re trained to know your enemy. You spotted him not long ago, lingering around a crowd outside an inn, trying to blend in. But your purpose for going out at all today has been to bait him, those are your orders. 

Your ears are kept vigilant for the sound of something small flying through the air and in a moment's notice, you lunge forward to dodge the rope dart that had been aimed at you. There’s a hissed curse and you draw your sword as the Assassin makes his leap down to you, using a ledge of a windowsill garden to lessen his fall. He stands tall in front of you now, white beaked hood up and hiding his face. His hidden blade shoots out as he parries your offensive blow with his gauntlet. 

You’re still not entirely sure what material it is that Assassins make their gauntlets from. Your mentor Haytham has one and he claims that it’s an alloy from a precursor civilization but when your higher-ups start talking like that, you sometimes begin to wonder if you’ve really overstepped your depth as an ex-mercenary and have accidentally joined a cult. 

Regardless, the Assassin stands tall before you now. He is Achilles’ new novice, so you’ve been told. The only member of his ranks as your mentor has told you of how a companion of his wiped out the last generation of Assassins here in the colonies, thus giving your Order ample room to plant its roots. Though you have no name nor face to put to this companion of Haytham’s as he is always very quick to change the subject or to remind you to not speak out of line whenever your curiosity gets the better of you and you start to press for details of this mysterious person’s identity if only to create an image in your mind for all of this information that you are given. 

His free hand takes out a tomahawk and you’re put on defence. You take a step back but make sure to stay in the alley and out of the public space. The last thing you want is nearby law enforcement or civilians to get involved. But the clashing of metal upon metal rings out in the otherwise quiet night. 

He fights cleanly using his sheer strength and towering figure which puts you at a disadvantage. His technique is curated to be quick and efficient but your style often depends on your agility, stamina and tiring out your enemy. You’ve already laid such a foundation by baiting him to follow you from the rooftops – a much more strenuous journey than the one you had taken upon the ground. But there was something to how he was swinging at you with his tomahawk, movements tight to not allow you to get too far, a passion to his every strike and parry. 

You know when you’re outmatched and so you’re now put on defence and wondering what could have happened between intel and being given your orders that could have possibly allowed you to go about this mission alone instead of preparing a sort of ambush in order to put an end to this lone Assassin that has been terrorising the Order once and for all. 

Had you let the higher-ups flatter you over your skills into thinking you were truly capable of this task they had set upon you? Regardless, you’re in this now and your only priority has suddenly become making it out of here alive. You take a risk and do a rescan of your surroundings, looking for anything that might be of aid to you in order to give you just a slither of an opportunity of getting away. But you remain aware of your enemy’s every move, knowing that even a momentary slip up can be the cause of your untimely demise.

But the Assassin trying to cut you down is just as trained as you are – if not more so – and this subtle scrambling of yours does not go unnoticed by his keen, dark eyes. 

“Out of your depth, Templar?” He asks in his smooth and rich tone. 

“You wish I were.” You bite back and manage to take swift steps backwards, enough for you to assess that the risk of lowering your sword in exchange for the gun at your hip is worth it in order to try and create a window for escape. You take aim but don’t fire. You should be firing. You should be killing this man. 

Why did they send you on this mission alone? 

It’s all you can think to yourself as your finger hovers over the trigger. The Assassin knows he’s done for if your finger so much as twitches now and yet he freezes, seeing your hesitation. The two of you are brought to a standstill with you aiming your gun at the Assassin’s head and yet your finger hovers over the trigger, refusing to squeeze. He has no opportunity to strike you down at this moment as in a fraction of a second, hesitation can become a killing blow. 

Your eyes narrow slightly as you repeat that question to yourself: why did they send you on this mission alone? This Assassin is clearly far more skilled than you are and even baiting him here after a journey that should have tired you out has not made a dent in his stamina. He’s been cutting down British soldiers and Templars alike, chipping away at the order for reasons not yet known to you other than the simple explanation of ‘we are Templars, he an Assassin’. Why did you believe your higher-ups when they told you that you could handle this solo mission? Have they sent you here as an execution and if so: why? 

“Why do they want you to kill me?” You murmur. The question is asked aloud and yet you’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself. This seems to make even the Assassin pause in puzzlement. If they want you dead then what are they doing now? Are you merely a distraction? 

“That’s a good question indeed.” The toweringly tall Assassin raises his hands in a gesture of surrender and you slowly lower your gun but keep a good amount of distance between the two of you, each standing at either side of the narrow alley you had originally lured him into. You tap your toes against the ground as you ponder over questions again: is this a distraction or an execution? Either way you’re clearly expendable and it comes as a surprise to you because you were so sure you were in the Grandmaster’s good books. 

So what has changed to make Haytham use you as a sacrificial pawn in whatever game he’s playing here in the colonies? Neither of you are sure what to do now, having both arrived here late at night with intentions to kill the other. But now you see that the true plan behind all of this was for you to die all along. It’s enough to make Ratonhnhaké:ton stand down and wish to spare you. Someone is pulling the strings here and part of their plan includes your death. So what’s to happen when this plan is interrupted. 

“I won’t kill you today.” He speaks up after finally making up his mind following a few minutes of thick silence wherein you were both deep in thought, trying with your minds to uncover the obscurity of whatever the bigger picture is here. The best course of action is to disrupt the plans of whoever it is that’s painting it. “But when you fall it will be by my hand, Templar.” You shoot the man a glare where his eyes would be, concealed behind the shadow that the beak of his hood casts over his face in order to hide his identity. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Assassin.” You quip back but you hear him scoff as he puts his tomahawk away when you set your gun back into its holster. 

“You’re right. Your masters seem to be set on beating me to that.” You open your mouth to protest but he’s already making his way up the wall of one of the buildings you’re between and returning to the rooftops. You’re quick to exit the alley and get into the middle of the main street so that he doesn’t have an opportunity to assassinate you from above should he be bluffing or perhaps change his mind and deal with you now before you become a loose thread. But he doesn’t and you’re left standing in the middle of an empty street at night. 

Could you even go back to your quarters now? Perhaps they’ll use the failed mission as justification to finish you off themselves. You need somewhere to stay until you’ve figured out what’s going on and whether or not you’ve been betrayed by the Order that you had sworn your own loyalty to. But where to go? 

Your eyes rise up to the rooftops that the Assassin had disappeared over. You’ve been set up by the people who this man is set on killing. 

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend…” You murmur to yourself as you spot a nearby ladder and use it to make your way up onto the same rooftop. It’s a risk you’re taking but it seems that every path available to you now has some degree of risk to it and so you’re left with no choice but to weigh your options and gamble. 

Your foot taps anxiously against the cobble beneath you as you consider your plan. If your Order seeks to erase you, it won’t even be safe to go back to your rented room and pack a bag of your belongings. It’s the first place they’ll go to look for you and with the network of spies Haytham has been building across the city, it won’t take long for word to get back to him that you’ve failed your mission. You won’t get far hiding either. All of your tricks, you’ve learned from your mentor and to try and hide would be to put yourself at a disadvantage by playing the game of the man who had so clearly intended to use you as a pawn in whatever grand scheme he’s hatching; not so long ago, you had thought you knew his plans but tonight has changed your course of events entirely. 

Into the belly of the best it is. 

You decide. Now up on the roof, you look with your second sight. It’s your upper hand and even Haytham has admitted that it was one of his greatest factors in considering you as an advantageous candidate for a Templar. The route he’s taken lights up gold and you begin to follow all the twists and turns he took that would have thrown off anyone else who might have been tiling him. Not you though. 

°:.   *₊    ° .   ☆ ☾　 °:.   *₊  ° . ° .•

You find yourself outside a manor upon a homestead. It wasn’t an easy journey by any means and you hadn’t expected him to have covered so much ground either. In the forest, you found yourself wishing you had stopped to hire a horse – you still had some money on you after all. You took a break twice, made a camp once after scouting out the area but you admittedly slept very lightly. You weren’t a wilderness girl and the anxiety of being found by a wolf or bear had kept you from falling into a truly restful sleep. 

And so you found yourself feeling both tired from a long way’s travel and a poor night’s rest during the small hours of the morning, all while heading right into the den of your enemy who, currently and ironically enough, seems to be your only possible ally. 

The manor standing tall in the clearing above you is built in typical colonial fashion with red bricks and white embellishments. Its large size makes use of the spacious land it is upon and your mind wanders back to the stories Haytham once shared with you about the Brotherhood that once lived and trained here. Looking at the size of the place, it’s easy to imagine so many people living here once upon a time and difficult to imagine that today it only houses the old Mentor and the one and only Assassin who still lives by their Creed here in the colonies. 

Though that’s only as much as your Order is aware of. You keep your wits about you, more than aware that you don’t know what you’re walking to, nor do you know how many potential foes reside within those four walls. You may very well be running from one death straight into another. 

But your options are slim and you’ve wagered that your odds are better here. Back with the Order, you’re a pawn that should have submissively been sacrificed. Here, you’re either a target to be taken out immediately or a valuable source of information. After all, you’ve been betrayed and they may consider that you have every reason to surrender all of the Order’s secrets that you possess. 

These are all just possibilities though and death remains a very likely outcome. 

You stand from an awkward distance on the treeline for a while. Surely you can’t just knock on the front door being who you are? Then again, if you take any other route, they might see it as an ambush and you’ll be in combat or even dead before you can open your mouth to explain your intentions. Despite every other instinct within you telling you to turn tail and run to the nearest harbour, to leave the region altogether on whatever boat you can get yourself aboard, you approach the front door. 

A shadow falls over you when you raise your fist to knock upon the door. He’s good at what he does, you’ll give him that. Immediately, you feel the warm, sharp edge of a blade resting against your throat. Warm and so it’s the hidden blade that the likes of him keep tucked up their sleeves, a blade like the one your mentor possessed. You’d always found it rather ironic that Haytham always stands so tall beside his principles and yet he fights with the enemy’s weapon. 

“Did you come here thinking you could finish the job and go crawling back to your master?” His voice speaks up from behind you. You raise both of your hands in the air in a sign of surrender, keeping them far away from your hips where your weapons are kept around your belt. He doesn’t hesitate in unbuckling it and removing it from your body and moments later, you hear it hit the floor some distance away where he’s thrown it. You’re not unarmed in enemy territory and you begin wondering if this really was the best plan of action after all. 

“I actually came with a proposal…” You begin slowly. You’re not entirely sure how to present yourself, your tone. Even you’re unsure if your own plan will work but you need to sound certain or else he may well believe you’re just here to trick him in which case he’ll kill you. 

You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s looming over you. You wonder sometimes how a man of his stature can blend into crowds and hide in plain sight the way Assassins are taught to. And yet he does and it’s truly a testament to his skill. 

“And what might this proposal be?” You swallow thickly. Your life depends on being able to convince him that you’re being honest, which he has every inclination to doubt considering your current standing as enemies.

“It’s been made clear that I’m seen as expendable, so I’d much rather prove just how essential I was. I have information: contacts, travel routes, locations of higher-ranking Templars. Whatever mission you’re on, I’ll speed it up by months, maybe even years.” You tilt your head back a little more, trying to ease the pressure when the blade presses more insistently at your skin. 

“And why should I believe you?” 

“Because I came here. Because I’ve got nowhere else to go at the moment and I’m risking you slashing my throat just for a chance to try and get out of this ordeal alive after what happened last night.” The blade leaves your neck but the threat is not removed as you then feel it poke at your back, spurring you forwards at a slow pace, hands still raised. 

“Step inside.” 

°:.   *₊    ° .   ☆ ☾　 °:.   *₊  ° . ° .•

Months later, you find yourself setting up camp in a familiar cave. These meetings have become familiar to you and nowadays this little cave feels like the safest place in the world. You’ve been working as a double agent for the past few months and being in the Order feels like having death loom over your shoulder all the time now. Being a Templar had once given you such a feeling of purpose and belonging, that you had a key, unshakable place in the world, that you were guiding it in a better direction. 

But the more you’ve been reporting back to Connor and the chats you have in between, the more you have to take a step back and ask yourself if you were being told a one-sided story the entire time. You haven’t set foot on Connor’s homestead since you first arrived and he had to send you back with a split lip, gashed jaw and sprained wrist to make it seem like you really had fought him and not conspired with him. That gash now remains as a scar across the lower part of your face. Each time you look in the mirror, it reminds you of your new mission as the Assassin’s spy. 

And each time, you pray that you’re doing the right thing. 

Your attention is grabbed by the sound of feet on dirt and you look towards the mouth of the cave where he stands tall now, moving to sit on the opposite side of your little fire so that he’s facing you. His gloves come off and he rubs his hands together near the open flames. His hood comes down to reveal a face strikingly like your mentor’s and you can’t believe that this man is now your only ally in the world and you can’t even be entirely sure of his loyalty. All you know is that you need to keep yourself indispensable in order to keep breath in your lungs and a heartbeat in your chest. 

He reaches into his bag and takes out a small, wrapped package. Scaled fish. They’re skewered and set over the fire to cook.

“Thank you.” You say stiffly. Interactions like this are still so unusual to you. He nods his head in a silent ‘you’re welcome’. 

“What’s new?” 

“Lee’s on the move.” His dark eyes quickly flick up to meet yours and you can see the deep interest in them. You haven’t asked why he’s after Lee specifically though it confuses you as you would have been sure he would go after Haytham; to cut the head of the snake, so to speak. But you’ve never asked because this vendetta seems deeply personal and you’re next to certain that he won’t open up to you about it. “They’re making preparations to receive him in Boston so whatever he’s come back with must be important… or they know that you’re after him. I’ve yet to find out which it is because I don’t have direct access to such information and I can’t put myself at risk if this is a red herring and they suspect something. But the moment I find out more I’ll tell you – but take everything with a pinch of salt.” 

He nods, deep in thought and you wonder what’s going through his head. You always worry that doubt will creep into his mind and will ultimately drive him to kill you. You can only hope that he’s instead thinking about exacting whatever revenge he has planned for Charles Lee. His thirst for revenge currently is what’s keeping you afloat. Without his vendetta, you’re worthless to him. 

“How have you been?” You’re not sure if you’re asking out of politeness or loneliness. Are you trying to keep in his good graces or are you seeking out the warmth of a friend, even if what’s between you isn’t really friendship? 

“Busy…” He sighs. “Your Order’s been on the move.” 

“I’ve heard about your meetings with Washington.” You bite your lip as you ponder your next question. It’s personal but a chance not taken is an opportunity missed. “You… You’re meeting with all these generals, men of influence and yet you work in the shadows. Do you truly have no wish for the world to remember your name? You really want to just vanish?” You had been drawn to the Templars partially by glory, by the chance of making a place in the world, a change where you and your fellow members of the Order would be revered for centuries to come. 

“I do not want to be remembered, no. Our creed states that we work in the dark to serve the light. This war will be lost to memory and I will do my part to make sure that it is the Assassins who bury any record of it.” Your first reaction is to think of him as ridiculous: he’s thrown any chance at a normal life away for a battle he will never be credited for. But it’s selfless. He has nothing to gain but what he believes in: no fame, no power, no glory. 

Maybe you really have been misled. 

The Templars had always preached peace but with that peace came the Order having ultimate power over humanity, domination over free will. You had once focused so heavily on how that absolute control would stop war, would stop suffering. But at what cost? It must be a great one for this man in front of you to be throwing any semblance of a normal life away for it. 

“Tell me more about your Creed.” He turns over the fish and glances up at you once again, meeting your curious eyes. You’re sitting down with your legs curled up to your chest, arms wrapped around them with your hin propped on your knees. This isn’t smalltalk or you digging for information, it’s genuine interest. He hadn’t missed your pondering look before, that glint of unsurety in your eyes. 

“Alright…”

°:.   *₊    ° .   ☆ ☾　 °:.   *₊  ° . ° .•

Weeks later and you meet again, having shared many more meetings in the meantime. You understand Ratonhnhaké:ton better now, you understand his creed. He seems different from his mentor that Haytham had told you about, so very different. He doesn’t meddle in the first civilisation that your mentor speaks of so frequently and you wonder if it’s for the best after the stories you had heard of while in the Order. Haytham speaks of them vaguely but you still have a comprehensive enough understanding. 

The more he speaks, the more you doubt your own order who wish to use these artefacts for their plans to shepard humanity towards its best self, the more you wonder if your superiors in the Order are just set on a path to repeat history. You’ve shared with him all the information you have now. You now feel like less of a double agent and more of a spy – having to give away anything about the Assassin you’ve come to secretly think of as a friend feels like a betrayal, even if it’s only for the sake of protecting your ulterior motives for having returned to the Order at all after that night you first encountered Rathonhnhaké:ton for yourself. 

He’s been more open with you too. Haytham is his father – something which both made sense, looking at his face, and shocked you, considering he is an Assassin and his father a Templar. Charles Lee, at Haytham’s command, had burned his village to the ground as a child, killing his mother. You empathise with that deeply. You had joined the Order knowing that you had no family of your own to lose should things get messy. It seems that the two of you are in the same boat for that one. 

Now, he’s picking out the bones from your fish while you prepare some water to boil over the fire. But time has moved on and winter draws near, bringing a chill into this little cave that feels like it’s become your one and only sanctuary in the world. You hold your open palms near the fire and try to chase away the chill but it does you very little good. 

Connor watches you for a moment before he removes his gloves and hands them to you. As he holds them out silently, those well-worn gloves appear like an olive branch to you. This really is for the best, you think. More and more, you’ve come to realise that you were misled by your Order. You were promised to be a harbinger, to be one of the names that would live on forever as a part of the order who had saved humanity. But you were a pawn all along. Even despite your special abilities, Haytham had been more than willing to sacrifice you for whatever gain. You might have a little more value in his eyes now that you’ve ‘proven’ you can take on the Assassin and get away with your life but you’ve seen your old mentor, you’ve heard how he talks of the first civilisation. He’ll stop at nothing and you’re more than sure that should he see another opportunity where your sacrifice and earn great gain for him and his plans, he’ll send you walking straight into the arms of death all over again. 

You take the gloves and slide them on over your hands. 

“Thank you.” You offer a smile but you hold back just how happy this small gesture makes you. They’re far too big but they’re soft and warm. They’re clearly broken in, the fingertips especially worn down from what you can only assume is all the climbing he does in stalking around with the stealth of his kind. But it’s the fact he’s given them to you at all that touches your heart. 

The two of you eat, drink, you share intel and it becomes late enough that you wrap yourself tightly in a thick blanket and curl up on your bedroll beside the campfire. The cave provides enough shelter to keep out the bitter wind but the temperature has still dropped drastically with the change of seasons. You sit up to wrap your blanket around your feet better and you find yourself wishing you had brought another pair of socks or, better yet, a warmer pair. You then lay back down, curled in on yourself to try and gather as much insulation as possible, and close your eyes to try and sleep. But the cold instead bites at your ears and so you pull your blanket up over the back of your head like a hood and shuffle a little closer to the fire so that your nose is warmed by the flame. 

You hear shuffling around you and crack an eye open to see that Rathonhnaké:ton has moved. He’s no longer laid on his bedroll on the opposite side of the fire but has instead moved it right next to yours behind where you’re curled up on your side. 

“I thought you’d be used to camping by now.” He murmurs and you can hear him lay down beside you, so close that you can feel the heat from his body. 

“Not during the winter, I’m not.” You mumble into your blanket which you’ve pulled up by your mouth so that your breath can warm your face. You feel the weight of his arm lay over your waist and he then presses his chest to your back. You can feel the warmth of his breath over your neck, heating the blanket that’s tucked over the back of your head. You stiffen for a moment, surprised by his willingness to be close to you. 

You feel your heart flutter in your chest and you lean into his warmth. How long has it been since anyone held you like this? It’s wonderful and overwhelming and suddenly there’s no more winter, nothing outside of this little cave where you’ve been setting up camp to meet for almost a year now. 

“Thank you…” You say quietly. Whether for the warmth, or the touch, or for the new path he’s opened to you that you’ve set your life upon now, you’re unsure. 

“There’s no need to thank me.” He replies just as quietly. The two of you lay there for a long time and your heart doesn’t slow, beating like a rabbit’s. He’s so close and you hadn’t expected such a thing to be so exhilarating. Rathonhnaké:ton is a toweringly tall man and you’ve always viewed it as an advantage for when he needs to intimidate. But now, you feel safer than you’ve known since that night of your first encounter when your illusion about the Knights Templar was shattered. 

After a while, you can’t take it anymore and you turn around just enough to be able to look at him over your shoulder. Your faces are very close and you can feel his breath fan across your lips. When you look to meet his eyes, he does the same as he had previously been looking at your mouth. 

“Feeling warmer?” He asks, his voice a rumbling murmur. You give the slightest little nod and your eyes very obviously glance at his pillowy lips again. You don’t try to hide it and nor does he miss it. You’re unsure which of you leans in first – perhaps it had been the both of you, little by little, while you were both preoccupied in imagining how it might be to press your lips to the other’s – but he’s warm and the touch of his lips against yours fills you with a bubbling heat. You turn your body to face him and he pulls you closer by your waist, thumb pressing into you through your clothes and stroking over your body while your lips press and meet again and again. One of your hands goes up to cup his face, feeling his chiselled jaw and cheekbones, then your fingers slide into his silken hair and tangle gently into it when your tongue slides against his. 

You pull away for air for a moment but it’s short lived as his teeth pull gently at your bottom lip and his mouth then grazes against your chin and traces the curve of your jaw in kisses. The cold that had previously bothered you is completely forgotten about and he tugs the collar of your layers of clothing aside so that he can kiss against the pulse of your throat. Your hands find his chest and press to try and feel the contours of his body through his clothing but all the buttons and straps get in your way. Your fingers start working to undo buttons before you realise how caught up you’ve got and you pull away for a moment. 

“Is this ok?” He gives a small nod and leans in to kiss you again as you remove his clothes. You leave his shirt and jackets open, revealing scarred, bronze skin to you. His body is shaped like an ancient statue of legendary heroes. You can’t help but take the opportunity to rove your palms over each contour and feel him in his beauty. 

His large hands slide down to your hips and pull you a little closer. To accommodate him, you move to straddle one of his muscular thighs. He lifts it just enough to press against you and feels a deep stirring below his belt when your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan.

You had never imagined you would find yourself in this position with Rathonhnaké:ton and yet now that you’re here together, it feels so right. It feels like you really have grown close enough to be like this, like stars in their orbit being pulled to one another. His mouth is on yours again in an instant while he presses his thigh between your legs and he starts to pull at your belt to remove the clothing on your lower half. You help him by tugging off your boots between messy kisses. Once your pants are off and your lower half is bare, you shiver as the chill begins to creep over your bare skin. Connor simply pulls you closer and wraps the blanket firmly around your body while you straddle his lap, taking care to tuck it under your legs in an attempt to keep in as much warmth as possible. 

His fingers dance their way down to your mound where he can already feel the intense heat radiating from you. 

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks as his mouth moves to press wet kisses beneath your ear, breathing over the sensitive spot and making you shiver as a result. You nod your head and unintentionally let a needy sound slip past your lips. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s fingers glide through your slick folds and he lets out a little breath of wonder at the feeling of touching you in such an intimate place. Experimentally, he pushes one finger inside of you and watches how your spine arches and your body then bows to lean against him. He pushes it as far as he can go and begins moving it in and out. Letting your bodies take over, allowing words to become of little importance, you begin to grind your hips against his hand so that the heel of his palm catches your clit in a sensation that feels like a delicious burn. He adds another finger and you tug at his pants until his length, thick and heavy in your hand, is freed. You gently squeeze and hear how he sucks in a hiss through his teeth. You then begin to massage up and down, matching the pace of your hips moving to meet his fingers as they draw out soft, wet squelches from your pussy. You swipe over the slit at his tip with your thumb and hear how it makes him groan lowly. You glance down to see a little pool of your arousal gathering in the dip of his palm and decide that enough is enough.

You raise your hips up until his fingers slip out of you entirely. You then remove your hands from him and loop your arms loosely around his neck instead. He understands your intentions clearly and strokes himself a few times, covering his length in the slick from your pussy. You bring your hips back down and he guides himself into you. You’re quick to press your mouth to his in another messy kiss in order to muffle the moan you let out upon feeling the stretch of him pushing into you. You pause shakily along the way, deciding you can take all of him once you’re a little more adjusted, and start to ride. 

Connor’s large hands slide beneath your ass to grab at the soft flesh that spills between his fingers and he uses his hold to support you in moving up and down, holding a lot of your weight with his strength. As you continue to move your hips rhythmically, one of his hands leaves your rear in favour of pulling at the buttons and ties that keep your chest hidden. Once it’s revealed, he lets out an appreciative groan of approval and his mouth latches onto one of your breasts as he pulls you closer and you ride him. Your head tips back to the ceiling of the cave and you pant as the wind whistles outside, joining with the crackling of the fire, the shift of the fabric of your clothing and blanket and the slick sounds of his cock filling you up over and over. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton is big and consequently manages to hit all the right spots at once as he fills you again and again, your hips angled just right for him to brush against the places that have you curling your cold toes. His mouth slathers your breasts in kisses, pausing to nip or suck at your plush flesh and he works your blood into a feverish heat. The two of you pant for breath, moans and groans echoing off the stone walls. 

After a while, his arms wrap around your waist as he lays back, bringing him with you. He kisses you firmly as he brings his knees up and you almost feel the breath get knocked from your lungs when he begins thrusting up into you. You rest your head on his shoulder as he pounds up into your sensitive pussy and your sensitive, teased nipples brush against his chest as your body shakes and wavers with his movements. 

A pressure builds in your abdomen, growing tighter and more intense until your whole body is flooded in pleasure, walls squeezing tightly around his cock as though begging him to come with you. And you’re successful in sending him over the edge, hearing him moan, the whimper in his tone as he releases into you and holds you close as the two of you catch your breaths. 

But then the cold starts to kick in again. He carefully lifts you so that his softening cock slips out of your messy pussy. You watch as he searches his pockets and takes out a handkerchief which he begins to clean your inner thighs with. He looks to you as if asking if you’re comfortable with him looking after you like this but he finds your head tilted back, eyes closed as your legs twitch at having him touch your sensitive folds to clean you up. He helps you redress and dresses himself before helping you into his coat and throwing some more wood onto the fire, wrapping the blanket around the both of you again. 

Once more, you snuggle into his chest for warmth and neither of you are quite sure what to say, hoping the words will just come to you in the morning. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton presses a kiss to your forehead and holds you a little tighter as he closes his eyes, listening to his own pounding heart, the crackle of the fire and the whining wind outside. 

He decides to make sure that the Templars won’t ever have an opportunity to sacrifice your life again. 

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[whencyclopedia]

Blitzkrieg

Blitzkrieg ('lightning war') is a military tactic combining air and land forces deployed at speed against the enemy's weaker points while the rear lines are simultaneously disrupted by acts of sabotage and bombing. Speed, concentration, and surprise are designed to psychologically overwhelm the enemy, wreck its command structure, and cause a total collapse without having to completely destroy the enemy.

Blitzkrieg was developed from earlier tactics in the 19th century, where armed forces such as artillery and cavalry were used in concentration and deployed at pace, but the first successful use with mechanised weapons was by the German armed forces during the Spanish Civil War (1936-39) and, on a much larger scale, in the first years of the Second World War (1939-45). The tactic continues to be employed in modern warfare.

Origins

The Prussian general Carl von Clausewitz (1780-1831) is often credited with pioneering the idea of Blitzkrieg in his book On War, published posthumously in 1832. The army of Prussia deployed forces in concentration and with an emphasis on speed during the Napoleonic Wars (1803-15). Clausewitz also emphasised the importance of launching attacks on enemy forces which, through sheer power of numbers, speed, and surprise, would negatively affect them in psychological terms. Another advantage of the tactic is that it can be used by relatively small armies, such as Prussia's of that period, to counterbalance an enemy's numerical advantage.

A further development came in the 1920s with the ideas of the commander of the German Army, General Hans von Seeckt (1866-1936). Seeckt led an army which was then limited in size (100,000 men) by the Treaty of Versailles, which had formally concluded the First World War (1939-45). To overcome a size disadvantage compared to other European armies, Seeckt emphasised speed and mobility in field tactics, even if Germany was forbidden to possess both tanks and aircraft for military purposes. To get around the restriction, Seeckt used mock-ups and sent units to the USSR for secret training. The idea of using combined arms, that is, mobile infantry, armoured vehicles, mobile artillery, and aircraft in such a way that disrupted and penetrated enemy lines was not unique to Germany as it was also endorsed by such military strategists in Britain as Major-General J. F. C. Fuller (1878-1966) and Basil Liddell Hart (1895-1970). It was the German Army, though, that would be the first to use the Blitzkrieg tactics in practice.

Hans von Seeckt

Musvage (CC BY-SA)

The term Blitzkrieg, meaning 'lightning war' because of the emphasis on speed, "has been attributed to Hitler, and was probably coined for intimidation purposes" (Dear, 109). The historian A. Gilbert suggests that Adolf Hitler (1889-1945), the leader of Nazi Germany, first used the term Blitzkrieg in a political speech in 1935. Hitler was intent on expanding German-controlled territory. The Blitzkrieg tactic perfectly suited Germany's armed forces, which were smaller than some of its rivals in numbers in 1939 but much more modern in terms of equipment. Technology such as radios (including inside tanks) and telephone lines, which could be quickly laid in new areas, allowed commanders to maintain contact with their forward troops or even to personally join those forward units while still being able to direct the rest of the army. The training of German officers emphasised independent decision-making, which also helped increase the speed of troop movements in the field since orders could be adapted to the needs of the situation at hand.

The commanders of the French Army, in contrast to all this mobility, were still disposed to emphasise static defences such as the Maginot Line. Tanks were part of the French Army, but these were deployed as a backup to the static defences and were not part of aggressive, attack-focussed tactics. In many ways, the French and British commanders were still sitting on their laurels of victory from WWI. In that war, trench battles had been typical. WWI was a conflict of attrition, that is, the aim was to use superior numbers to wear down an enemy by eliminating its soldiers at a rate faster than one lost one's own troops. Blitzkrieg, on the other hand, had an entirely different objective, as here explained by the historian B. Pitt:

The basic principle behind the Blitzkrieg technique is that it is simpler, easier, and cheaper to reduce the strength of an enemy army by starvation (cutting off its supplies) or by paralysis (destroying its High Command or cutting its communication and control lines) than by battering it to a bloody pulp.

(Liddell Hart, 19-20)

Continue reading...

[vague-humanoid]

Of course, living life between air-raids, “under the bombs”, is a pretty common wartime experience since WW2. But this high-tech conflict evoked a dystopian universe, where someone, somewhere, has the power to take down whole apartment blocks, one by one, just by pressing a button on a screen. Many Lebanese, faced with such an all-powerful force, experienced an extreme level of powerlessness,a strange sense of nakedness even. This is just one of the aspects of this war which it is difficult to communicate to outsiders.

Another essential element, which I am having a hard time conveying to my relatives and friends abroad, is that this is not “yet another conflict” in a region which has known so many. Seen from France, for example, it is tempting to imagine that this war between Israel and Hezbollah occurred over stakes which really don’t concern us. An obscure and remote war, in short... But Israel is fighting with our weapons. Israel benefits most of the time from the backing of our media, our politicians, and our diplomats, in a struggle which dredges up all the rhetoric of the “war on terror”, the defence of the Western world, and even its “civilizing mission” against barbarism. In short, this war is being fought, very explicitly, in our name.

Now for anyone who is observing such a war close up, it is also a war of atrocities, in which journalists and medics are targeted, mosques and churches are desecrated, graveyards blown to bits among countless other gratuitous and unjustifiable acts of violence. The discrepancy between this intimate experience, on the one hand, and the sanitized account of it provided to the outside world, on the other, has led for many of us in Lebanon to a feeling of isolation and abandonment.

More than that, from here it is easy to see how our governments are using the opportunity provided by Israel’s wars, in Lebanon and in Gaza, to become ever more radicalized themselves, to the point of abandoning the principles of international humanitarian law, one of Europe’s finest contributions to the stability of the world. We are witnessing a kind of letting go, a growing disinhibition : It is as if we were encouraging Israel to do what we don’t yet dare to do ourselves. These warsact reveal and accelerate our own fascism, which is now taking root almost everywhere in Europe. So it is not only in Lebanon that this confict is reshuffling the cards.

[beardedmrbean]

(The trump pic made me laugh so I had to include it)

Robbie there is just right on the edge of getting it, at least he seems to know that this is something that took place.

The reason they're telling his story, if it is based on him, is because why not tell his story, we've got 1000 pieces of media about

This is a article from 2010 about the guy robbie mentions there.

As London suffered the full force of the German Luftwaffe bombing raids 70 years ago this week the story of Nigerian Ita Ekpenyon has been uncovered by the City of Westminster Archives.

The blitz and the response of Londoners is now the stuff of legend and the story of Ita demonstrates that integrity, responsibility commitment and sacrifice are not qualities confined to the English.

Ita Ekpenyon is the personification of London’s Blitz spirit and he along with over 15.000 Africans living in London at the time are for the first time being recognised and their bravery acknowledged.

Ita Ekpenyon was one of over 200,000 Londoners who volunteered as Air Raid Protection (ARP) wardens.

Black British experiences from the Blitz, is now being told by City of Westminster Archives in a new project funded by the Heritage Lottery Fund.

Ita arrived in London from Nigeria in 1921 at the age of 28. When war broke out in 1939 he was living at 146 Great Titchfield Street, near Oxford Circus, and studying to become a lawyer.

At 46, Ita was too old for military service but his sense of civic duty led him to volunteer for civilian defence duties. On 5 February 1940, Ita was enrolled as an ARP Warden with D Section, St Marylebone Borough Council Civil Defence Volunteer group. According to his unit’s records, he experienced raid after raid, putting out incendiary bomb fires, giving first aid and conducting population counts as the bombs fell all over the capital. ______________________________________

Sounds like a story that's begging to be told to me right there, kinda wish that was what it is about, looks to be more than that though. _________________________________________

George, McQueen’s child protagonist, was inspired by a picture the filmmaker came across while researching his television series Small Axe, which showed a small black boy being evacuated from the city. On his journey back home to his mother after being evacuated, George discovers much about his city – and himself.

A key scene shows George wandering through the old Islington Empire Arcade, encountering dioramas and murals of black workers, ever under the control of their white colonial masters. There he meets Isey, a Nigerian air raid warden, who cares for him and finds him a space in a shelter.

The shelter shows the diversity of blitzed London that was captured by the photographer Bill Brandt: Jewish families, Sikh families and white families crammed together in the squalor of the makeshift shelters below the city in the first weeks of air raids. When a white couple try to segregate the shelter by race, Isey reprimands them, reminding them that they are all fighting Hitler and the Nazi belief in a race war.

Blitz deserves to find a large audience. Not just because it retells a familiar story in a new way and gives voice to those whose stories are often overlooked, but because of what it has to say about who those blitzed Londoners, so central to British memory of the war, actually were.

In imagining the story of that small boy in the photo, McQueen helps us to re-imagine not just the blitz, but wartime Britain more widely. His sprawling, dramatic film reminds us that this is a shared history, one with meaning for many more people today than we might usually remember. ____________________________________

Aside what ever current year stuff they shoehorn in this seems like a good concept for a film.

And as for the answer to the question of "why" I'll say it's because it's the film the filmmaker wanted to make if you don't want to watch it then don't if you'd like a different story told then tell it yourself. _____________________

Here's some more about Contributions by Black Britons during the Blitz, because apparently some people didn't think they existed or contributed, or aren't worth mentioning or something.

For Black History Month historian Stephen Bourne tells us about some of the Black people involved in the fire service in the 1930s and 40s.

And I'll end with, the Steve McQueen making this movie is a totally different one than the one that died in 1980, in case there was any questions about that.

[mosabeldali]

Israeli air strikes on a so-called "humanitarian zone" in southern Gaza's al-Mawasi killed at least 40 people on Tuesday, according to health authorities in the enclave.

Here's what we know so far:

• The strikes targeted at least 20 tents sheltering displaced Palestinians

• Footage from the direct aftermath showed Palestinians desperately digging for their loved ones in the deep craters, with the civil defence saying "entire families" had "disappeared" in the sand

• Eyewitnesses told AFP that at least five rockets fell in the area, with emergency services saying the strikes created craters up to nine metres deep

• The Israeli army said it attacked a Hamas command centre

"disguised in the humanitarian area in Khan Younis" and that "many steps were taken to reduce the chance of harming civilians, including the use of precision weaponry, aerial surveillance and additional intelligence information". It did not share any evidence to back up its claim

• Hamas denied these allegations, saying "the claims of the fascist occupation army about the presence of resistance elements at the targeted site are a blatant lie".

• Gaza's civil defence search-and-rescue organisation said that the Israeli army used "heavy concussion missiles" and estimated that it was "one of the most horrific massacres since the beginning of the Israeli war on Gaza"

‼️‏Your help, no matter how small, could be the turning point for my family. Join me in rebuilding our lives ‼️

Vatted by : @moayesh @el-shab-hussein @nabulsi

[magz]

Aggregate news of Palestine For April 21, 2024.

Aljazeera News:

Videos show widespread damage from Israel’s deadly West Bank raids.

Blurb:

Israeli forces have killed more than a dozen Palestinians during a three-day raid on the Nur Shams refugee camp, which has left the occupied West Bank city of Tulkarem in ruins. (Video embedded in article)

Nearly 200 bodies found in mass grave at hospital in Gaza’s Khan Younis

Excerpt:

Palestinian civil defence crews have uncovered a mass grave inside the Nasser Medical Complex in Gaza’s Khan Younis, with 180 bodies recovered so far, Al Jazeera has learned, as Israel has continued bombardment of the devastated coastal enclave for more than six months.

[...]

In a statement late on Saturday, Palestinian emergency services said: “Our teams continue their search and retrieval operations for the remaining martyrs in the coming days as there are still a significant number of them.”

[...]

Israel’s war on Gaza has killed more than 34,000 Palestinians, according to local health officials, devastated Gaza’s two largest cities and left a swath of destruction across the territory.

At least two-thirds of the casualties are children and women. It also says the real toll is likely higher as many bodies are stuck beneath the rubble left by air strikes or are in areas that are unreachable for medics.

Eye on Palestine:

[Image from video, Many Palestinians holding covered dead bodies during a packed open-air funeral]

The funeral of the Palestinians who were killed by the occupation forces in Nour Shams camp in Tulkarm. (HishamAbuShadrah from instagram, reposted on Eye On Palestine)

[Image of building on fire, from video]

Israeli settlers attacked the village of Burqa, east Ramallah.

مستوطنون يهاجمون قرية برقة شرق رام الله

(From Eye on Palestine)

CNN:

Israel concludes deadly West Bank raid as war devastates Gaza.

Summary blurb:

The US House of Representatives has approved $26.4 billion in aid to Israel, as part of a wider package of foreign aid, which still needs to pass the Senate.

The Israeli military concluded one of its largest offensives in the occupied West Bank since October 7 on Sunday, saying it killed 10 "terrorists." The Palestinian health ministry and Wafa news agency said 14 people, including a child, were killed in the raid, which left a path of destruction.

Elsewhere in the West Bank, Israeli settlers killed an ambulance driver trying to transport Palestinians who had been attacked, according to the Palestine Red Crescent Society. A spike in violence by extremist settlers in the occupied territory has led to more sanctions by the US and EU.

Strikes between Israel and Iran this month spiked fears of a widening regional conflict in the Middle East, but the two sides appear to be stepping back for now.

[troythecatfish]

An Israeli air strike killed 11 members of the head of Hamas' Political Bureau, Ismail Haniyeh's family, in northern Gaza's Shati refugee camp.

According to Mahmud Basal, a spokesman for the civil defence agency, the strike led to the killing of 11 members of his family, including Zahr Haniyeh, the sister of Ismail. Basal also stated that a number of bodies may still be under rubble due to a lack of necessary equipment for extraction.

Source: Mintpress

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Sur le toit de l'Hôtel de Ville," Le Soleil. October 21, 1942. Page 7. ---- Pour la première fois cette semaine, à l'occasion de l'exercice d'obscurcissement et du "raid" aérien simulé, une quinzaine des quarante sirènes dont dispose le C. P. C. serviront à avertir la population. Hier sur le toit de l'Hôtel de Ville, on a fait l'inauguration de l'une de ces sirénes dont la pesanteur est de 500 livres environ. Dans la vignette, on aperçoit le chef Rosaire Beaulieu, de la brigade des incendies: le chef J.-J. Gagnon, président du Comité de protection civile; M. Edouard Martel (à genou) ingénieur civil et chef des services essentiels : le caporal Roger Lemire, chef de la garde civile. Ils sont accompagnés d'un garde civil et d'un pompier auxiliaire en uniforme. (Photo du Solell)

[allthegeopolitics]

At least two people have been killed and eleven injured by an Israeli strike in the Zeitoun neighbourhood of Gaza City, the Palestinian civil defence is reporting.  Earlier in the day, Israeli air strikes hit a home in Nuseirat camp in central Gaza killing at least one person, according to the Palestinian civil defence. [...]

Continue Reading.

[silicacid]

Al Jazeera journalist Samer Abudaqa killed in Israeli attack in Gaza

Al Jazeera Arabic journalist Samer Abudaqa has been killed and his colleague Wael Dahdouh was wounded in an Israeli attack in Khan Younis, southern Gaza.

Cameraman Abudaqa and correspondent Dahdouh were reporting at Farhana school in Khan Younis when they were hit by an Israeli strike on Friday.

Rescue teams were unable to immediately reach Abudaqa and others at the site due to Israeli bombardment.

“Rescuers just managed to retrieve the cameraman Samer Abudaqa’s body,” a spokesperson for the media network said.

Dahdouh was hit by shrapnel on his upper arm, and managed to reach Nasser hospital where he was treated for minor injuries.

Witnesses said earlier there was heavy shelling in the area around the school.

Wael Dahdouh says the network’s crew was accompanying civil defence rescuers on a mission to evacuate a family after its home was bombed.

“We captured the devastating destruction and reached places that had not been reached by any camera lens since the Israeli ground operation started,” Dahdouh said from his hospital bed.

As the Al Jazeera journalists were heading back on foot because the areas were not accessible by car, Dahdouh said “something big” happened that knocked him to the ground.

After the explosion, Dahdouh said he pressed on his wounds and walked out of the area to get help, but by the time he reached an ambulance, medics said they could not return to the site of the attack because it was too dangerous.

Subsequent efforts to coordinate a safe passage to send rescuers for Abudaqa were delayed, Dahdouh said, adding that one ambulance that tried to reach the cameraman came under fire.

Many Palestinians from the central and northern parts of Gaza have sought shelter in Khan Younis since the war began in October. Many have now been pushed further south towards the strip’s southernmost city of Rafah after Israel intensified its military operations in Khan Younis.

The attack comes amid violent clashes between Palestinian fighters and the Israeli army in locations across Gaza. Residents reported fighting in Shujayea, Sheikh Radwan, Zeitoun, Tuffah, and Beit Hanoon in north Gaza, east of Maghazi in central Gaza and in the centre and northern fringes of Khan Younis, according to the Reuters news service.

The Al Jazeera Media Network condemned the attack and extended its condolences to Abudaqa’s family in Gaza and Belgium.

“The Network holds Israel accountable for systematically targeting and killing Al Jazeera journalists and their families,” a statement read.

“In today’s bombing in Khan Younis, Israeli drones fired missiles at a school where civilians sought refuge, resulting in indiscriminate casualties,” the network said.

“Following Samer’s injury, he was left to bleed to death for over 5 hours, as Israeli forces prevented ambulances and rescue workers from reaching him, denying the much-needed emergency treatment,” the statement added.

In late October, Wael Dahdouh lost four of his family members in an Israeli air raid.

His family had been seeking refuge in Nuseirat camp in the centre of Gaza when their home was bombed by Israeli forces, killing his wife, Um Hamza, his 15-year-old son, Mahmoud, his seven-year-old daughter, Sham, and his grandson, Adam, who died in hospital hours later.

Calls for accountability

The Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) said it was “deeply saddened” and called for an independent investigation into the attack.

The press freedom group says the conflict in Gaza is the deadliest for journalists it has ever recorded.

“We’re outraged by the high price, I would say the extreme price, that Palestinian journalists are paying,” the CPJ’s Carlos Martinez de la Serna told Al Jazeera, adding that there was a “clear prevailing sense of impunity.”

“We need international, independent investigations to assess all these killings and those responsible need to be accountable,” said de la Serna. “It’s essential to remember that journalists under international humanitarian law are civilians, and the obligation on all parties involved in the war is to protect them, and what we’re seeing, is that journalists are being killed.”

The International Federation of Journalists (IFJ) said it was “shocked” at the attack.

“We condemn the attack and reiterate our demand that journalists’ lives must be safeguarded,” it said in a post on X.

An IFJ report published last week found that 72 percent of journalists who died on the job this year were killed in the Gaza war.

‘A professional, strong team’

The two journalists have worked together with Al Jazeera Arabic since before the war.

“[Samer] and Wael make up a very professional, strong team on the ground, documenting everything and bringing all the facts and live pictures of what the Palestinian people have been going through,” Hani Mahmoud said.

“But particularly with this war, given its intensity in scale and magnitude and the sheer amount of destruction, they have been at the forefront of covering every little detail that one might have forgotten about,” he added.

[onbreakreadlastpost]

Strikes on Gaza continue after ceasefire announcement, says Hamas-run Civil Defence agency

Military action in Gaza has not ended despite the ceasefire deal.

The Hamas-run Civil Defence agency reported that Israeli air strikes killed more than 20 people today following the Qatari announcement.

They included 12 people who were living in a residential block in the Sheikh Radwan neighbourhood of Gaza City, it said. There was no immediate comment from the Israeli military.

The ceasefire deal does not come into force until Sunday.