As Israeli strikes pummel the valleys of southern Lebanon, the head of Marjayoun’s civil defence centre Anis Abla watches from his terrace, thumbing important instructions into his phone with his burnt and blistered fingers.

Just a few weeks after shadowing Mr Abla as he tackled blazes on the southern Lebanese border, The National returns to find him severely injured, but still coordinating rescue missions with his team.

The threat of a bigger war with Israel is looming after, in the span of two days, device detonations killed at least 32 people and injured thousands of others across Lebanon. The country’s Health Ministry said at least 20 people were killed in Wednesday’s explosions, a day after pager attacks killed 12 people, including two children. The attack is one of the “largest security breaches” to the Hezbollah group.

The Lebanese-Israeli border is visible from the small town, which is no stranger to war. Still, the conflict between Hezbollah and Israel that broke out on October 8 has taken a particularly heavy toll on civil defence workers in the area who have battled increasing fires ignited by Israeli shelling, including the use of controversial white phosphorus, as well as high temperatures and drought.

“I can’t leave, I’m helping my parents and neighbours – we are all one family,” Mr Abla told The National.

On what began as an ordinary Tuesday morning on August 13, Mr Abla received a call about a fire. He and his colleagues responded without hesitation, deploying two fire lorries – one large and one small.

The wind shifted against them, causing the fire to intensify and scorch his smaller vehicle. At that moment, Mr Abla realised he could not control the fire. While fleeing for his life, he noticed that part of the hose remained intact. “The car’s windows were closed,” he recalled, “so there was a chance to save it”.

He grabbed his knife and cut away the damaged section of the hose and began to extinguish the flames on both himself and the vehicle. His determination to save what was left led to him sustaining severe burns to his hands and face, forcing him to improvise with a damaged hose and a malfunctioning generator.

While the cause of the fire is unknown, Mr Abla said he doesn’t believe it was caused by a direct strike but that it could have been a drone.

“Definitely not [a strike] because no one heard it, maybe it was a drone,” he added. However, once these blazes are ignited, rescue teams also face additional hurdles when trying to reach the location of the blaze due to constant Israeli shelling of areas in the south.

Stretched to limits

The vehicle was saved but Mr Abla spent 17 days in hospital followed by regular trips for treatment for his burns. His ordeal is one example of the wider struggles Lebanon’s civil defence teams face as they attempt to put out fires with limited and inadequate resources. The vehicle he risked his life to save was more than just equipment to him, it was a precious asset.

“In the civil defence and the entire state, you know how the situation is. Getting another car would be like a dream come true,” he said, referring to the wider economic crisis crash-strapped Lebanon has been engulfed in for about five years, rendering support for the civil defence scarce.

“It’s a dream to get another one,” he explains, “this car was donated through the efforts of my village people.”

Due to the lack of external financial assistance, the local community came together in 2019 to raise funds for the municipality, facilitating the purchase of the vehicle. Mr Abla had previously said their main lorry is almost 30 years old.

In almost two decades as a fireman, Mr Abla had never confronted a fire as huge as the one on that Tuesday, nor had he sustained injuries as severe, but he remains resolute to continue. “This doesn’t stop me. If anything, it makes me more determined.”

His mother said she worries about her son’s safety but would never stop him from returning to work.

“I went to the hospital and saw Anis in a state that no one should ever witness. I ran to his legs, kissed them; I didn’t know what else to do. I was in another world, my heart and blood felt like they had dried up,” Sonia Abla said.

When asked how she felt about the prospect of Mr Abla returning to work and his missions, she responded with pride and acceptance, stressing, “I’ll tell him, God be with you”.

His story highlights the personal sacrifices of Lebanon’s first responders and the broader struggles these essential workers face.

Since the conflict broke out on October 8, at least 25 paramedics from different ambulance teams and two health workers have been killed and 94 others injured by “Israeli aggression,” according to the Lebanese health ministry.