When thousands of Hamas terrorists poured through the Gaza fence on October 7, the first Israelis they came across were the Kibbutzniks.
These residents of small, self-sufficient communities dotted along the boundary line were among the most sympathetic to the Palestinian cause in the country.
They would regularly run workshops to encourage building bridges with their neighbours, believing the two peoples must learn to live in harmony.
Some would fly balloons of peace containing messages and sweets over the fence, others would send money to friends they had made on the other side and drive their sick children from the border to Israeli hospitals. They were known affectionately as the Peaceniks.
But, living just a few hundred metres from Gaza, they were also the most vulnerable that day – and, in the ultimate betrayal, the terrorists wasted no time slaughtering them in their hundreds.
When thousands of Hamas terrorists poured through the Gaza fence on October 7, the first Israelis they came across were the Kibbutzniks
A grassroots movement driven by young Israelis beginning to bring these communities back to life. In recent weeks, Kibbutz Mefalsim and Kibbutz Reim have welcomed new arrivals – the first since the slaughter of October 7, something the few remaining survivors feared they would never see again
Smoke rises after an Israeli air strike at the Gaza Strip near Kibbutz Mefalsim on Sunday, September 15
(pictured left to right) Liron Behar, Danielle Rissin, Liran Sbekassis, unidentified, Moran Laish and Roni Uzai at Kibbutz Mefalsim in September
Harrowing images of the aftermath showed how families had been wiped out, their homes riddled with bullets and set on fire with them inside. Any men, women or children left alive were taken back into Gaza as hostages, where many remain.
You might think, then, that a year on and these communities would lie empty, their desertion a constant reminder of the horrors inflicted on the peace-loving Kibbutzniks. For who on earth would risk living within eyesight of that fence?
Yet, as we pass this sombre anniversary of the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust – in which 1,200 were killed – something remarkable is happening. A grassroots movement driven by young Israelis beginning to bring these communities back to life.
In recent weeks, Kibbutz Mefalsim and Kibbutz Reim have welcomed new arrivals – the first since the slaughter of October 7, something the few remaining survivors feared they would never see again.
Hundreds have signed up, with some 35 people already moving in under a programme called Torenu, meaning Our Turn in Hebrew, which is organised by Dror-Israel, an educational group that fosters cultural cohesion.
We hope we have started the process of rebuilding these communities, says Moran Laish, 31, one of the organisers. This is the nation of Israel, we rebuild.
The Daily Mail was among the first international media invited in to witness this project, a rare glimmer of light in this awful conflict.
As we drove into Kibbutz Mefalsim, which sits around half a mile from the fence, several loud explosions were heard from the enclave and a huge plume of smoke rose in the distance.
Before October 7, the population numbered over 1,000. When we visited, it appeared there were only a few dozen here – with volunteers helping the families who have decided to return.
Those signing up to live here see themselves as part of a mission to return these communities to what they once were.
For over 100 years the Kibbutz movement has stood, embodying the Israeli dream of buidling a Jewish homeland on the principles of collective living, equality and working the land. Such communities grew to number 270 across the country.
In recent weeks, Kibbutz Mefalsim and Kibbutz Reim have welcomed new arrivals – the first since the slaughter of October 7, something the few remaining survivors feared they would never see again
We hope we have started the process of rebuilding these communities, says Moran Laish, 31, one of the organisers. This is the nation of Israel, we rebuild
Hundreds have signed up, with some 35 people already moving in under a programme called Torenu, meaning Our Turn in Hebrew, which is organised by Dror-Israel, an educational group that fosters cultural cohesion
A memorial site for Liraz Asoulin who was killed on October 7th 2023 opposite Kibbutz Mefalsim
The young idealists are committed to their mission of revival – but thats not to say they feel entirely at ease with their task.
Its very pretty, and theres a lot of really great people that live here. says Liron Behar, 27, as she shows off her new home. But it wasnt a paradise on October 7 – and this thought hits me at night, and then I get scared.
A year ago, when she was living in North Carolina, Israeli-born Liron would have read how 30 terrorists blew off the main gates of the kibbutz where she now lives.
Those who choose this way of life pride themselves on their Kibbutzim etiquette, forever looking out for their neighbours with doors always left open. It is unsurprising to learn the new generation are not so enthralled by the latter tradition.
I am embarrassed to say that I lock the door. Sometimes I even lock the window, says Liron, as if she has said the unthinkable. And the other day, something made me feel insecure and I checked if I had a knife in my drawer.
Soldiers surround the kibbutz to keep guard, though they feel a reminder of the danger as much as a reassurance.
The few survivors of October 7 who remain could not believe their eyes when new arrivals showed up this month.
I saw the happiness of people when they asked me, What? You moved here? says Roni Uzai, 34, who arrived three weeks ago from Beer Sheba, the largest city in the Negev desert. They dont believe there are people who want to be here after everything that happened.
Kibbutz Reim sits just 15 minutes down the road from Kibbutz Mefalsim.
While those living here managed to hole up in bomb shelters for 24 hours as security teams fought off Hamas, this place is synonymous with the worst tragedy that day, when terrorists rampaged through the Nova music festival hosted in its fields, raping women and killing 364 partygoers.
Its a very hard time right now to be in the kibbutz, you can feel the sadness everywhere, says Liran Aberkassis, 37, who quit a career in engineering in Haifa to move here last month. Now she works in the kitchens and escorts children on the school bus.
I have three kids in Reim that Im in charge of, and every morning I escort them to the local school. One of them lost his brother and every morning I can see the struggle that his mum has with him.
I saw the happiness of people when they asked me, What? You moved here? says Roni Uzai (centre), 34, who arrived three weeks ago from Beer Sheba, the largest city in the Negev desert. They dont believe there are people who want to be here after everything that happened.
As we drove into Kibbutz Mefalsim, which sits around half a mile from the fence, several loud explosions were heard from the enclave and a huge plume of smoke rose in the distance
The young idealists are committed to their mission of revival of the Kibbutz – but thats not to say they feel entirely at ease with their task
Pictured above are children playing on a bomb shelter at Kibbutz Mefalsim
Everyone is aware not to mention his brothers name, and everything is so, so sensitive.
On how she is fitting in with the few who still live here, Liran says: I see they react differently to us, in the swimming pool, in the dining room.
We come from outside, and its good – this new energy. Its shifting a little bit.
Danielle Rissin, 28, who has also moved into Kibbutz Reim agrees. This is my small way to contribute to the situation this country has got into over the past year, she says.
For the existing residents, it is clear just how much the survival of these kibbutzim means. Barbara Cohen, 60, moved from London to Kibbutz Kfar Aza, beside Mefalsim on the border, when she was a teenager after meeting a Jewish boyfriend.
The mother-of-four was staying with friends on October 7 and was saved having to witness the slaughter. Kfar Aza was among the worst hit, with 62 of its 900 members killed and 19 kidnapped – of whom five remain in captivity.
Two more who had been hostages were killed by friendly fire when trying to escape Hamas captors.
While no new volunteers have yet arrived here, Barbara has been single-handedly tending to the gardens and land in the hope that one day it will be resettled and returned to how it once was. Now 40 people have come back to the Kibbutz, and it too is showing green shoots.
The first time I came back after the massacre, in February, I was like a zombie, she said. Still, today, things are destroyed from that terrible day.
When you walk past the young peoples area, which was hit the worst, where our hostages were taken from, I couldnt face it. Every time I thought, I cant do this. I didnt go in.
The Hamas terrorists had obtained plans of some of the Kibbutzim, so they knew where the young adults lived and targeted them.
It was a miracle that all four of my adult children, their father and myself survived, she said.
While no new volunteers have yet arrived here, Barbara has been single-handedly tending to the gardens and land in the hope that one day it will be resettled and returned to how it once was. Now 40 people have come back to the Kibbutz, and it too is showing green shoots
Its a very hard time right now to be in the kibbutz, you can feel the sadness everywhere, says Liran Aberkassis (pictured), 37, who quit a career in engineering in Haifa to move here last month
I was staying with friends, my youngest son was not there, my daughter had moved out of the Kibbutz four days earlier and my eldest two locked themselves in the safe room for over 30 hours while terrorists outside kidnapped and massacred.
She has been working tirelessly since February to tidy the kibbutz, moving in nearby and coming regularly to work the land.
I feel its my duty to help the Kibbutz, the place that was my home for almost four decades.
As Israelis today marked one year since that awful atrocity, there will have been sombre reflections on the hellish scenes that took place here.
Those depraved acts will be forever associated with these communities, and those who lost their lives will be missed dearly.
But if the terrorists believed they would be abandoned, left as ghost towns that haunt the collective Israeli memory, they were wrong.
Today, as these young idealists arrive, the Kibbutz dream lives on.