Exclusive – Australian Man Still Haunted by Hamas Atrocities a Year and a Half Later

Be’eri Kibbutz was among the first targets of the Hamas attack on October 7, 2023. 132 people were killed there—most with horrific brutality. Hostages were taken as well; 32 people were abducted from Be’eri alone, including one of Hungarian descent. It was later confirmed that Ilan Weisz was among those murdered. Geoffrey “Danny” Majzner considers himself “lucky”—at least in that he survived, and that Hamas killed only one member of his family. But the Australian man continues to grapple with the memories of the horrors he lived through.

Geoffrey "Danny" Majzner (Source: Geoffrey "Danny" Majzner)

"The fact that I'm alive came down to sheer luck," says Majzner, who now believes that survival carries with it a mission.

Geoffrey Danny Majzner survived the Hamas attack but lives in daily fear (Photo: Danny Majzner)

Hamas Attack: They Killed My Sister, Didn't Enter My House

It was just pure luck. Honestly. They passed by my house but didn’t enter. They burned, killed, and kidnapped the neighbors—but they didn’t go into my home

he recalled.

My children weren’t in the kibbutz at the time—another stroke of luck. My sister, Galit, was murdered in her house. I can consider myself fortunate that only one member of my family died. But there are families in the kibbutz who lost three, four or even five relatives in that single month to Hamas terrorists. So in some ways, I wasn’t lucky—but I did survive, and that’s what matters.

His young granddaughter and her mother also survived. They were hiding in a safe room with her partner during the attack.

The Worst Moment

The worst moment for me," Majzner said, "was when IDF soldiers came into my home and told me I had one minute to grab what I needed and leave. They escorted me and a few others to an area near the kibbutz. We could still hear grenades going off, the fighting between Hamas and the IDF. It was around 3 a.m.,

he related.

We saw the bodies of the terrorists lying on the roads. The smell of corpses hung in the air. Burned houses and cars surrounded us. We knew nothing at the time. We didn’t even know my sister had been murdered—it was only confirmed two days later. We knew there were many victims, but we didn’t know their names or numbers. It took days before we began to understand what had really happened.

Although Majzner survived, facing and coming to terms with the tragedy was incredibly difficult.

I was put up at a hotel near the Dead Sea with 800 members of my community. It felt like a zombie land. People walked around like zombies. I was a zombie. I didn’t want to see anyone. I stayed in my room the entire time, only coming out for dinner, then going right back,

he said, recalling those horrific days.

When they told me they’d identified my sister's body, I asked my son to come get me. I didn’t want to stay there anymore. I stayed at my father’s for about four weeks, then I spent around 13 months in the city. I only recently returned to Hatzorim, near Beersheba, where the community now lives,

he said.

Delivering the Worst News

One of the hardest moments for Majzner in those weeks came when he had to inform his father—himself a Holocaust survivor—that his daughter had been killed.

It was unbelievably hard. My father survived the Holocaust—his parents were murdered by the Nazis in France. He built a life, got married, had children and grandchildren. And I had to be the one to tell him, when he returned from Italy, that his daughter was murdered in the kibbutz. It was a massive shock.

"I had to take care of everything. I was responsible for the entire family. I organized my sister’s funeral. I didn’t have time to grieve or to focus on myself." Since then, Majzner has attended weekly therapy. Nearly two years later, he says he’s “only 50 percent okay.”

I suffer from post-traumatic stress. I don’t sleep at night. But I have to recover. I run a business and I work at it every day—just like I work on myself,

he said.

Living in Constant Fear

At night, I lock the doors. I check them several times before going to bed. I never did that before—before October 7, we never even locked the doors in the kibbutz. Now, there are certain sounds that scare me. Loud Arabic speech, for example, makes me panic. I think it’s part of the trauma, and I’m working on it with my therapist. I hope I’ll get better soon.

Majzner says most people wouldn’t know he’s struggling just by looking at him during the day. But he admits: "I allow myself to say that I’m only halfway okay." Establishing relationships remain difficult for him to this day, both professionally and personally.

I’ve been divorced for eleven years. It’s really hard to build new relationships. I need a lot of time alone. When I don’t want to be alone, I visit my granddaughter. She’s very sweet. She’s the love and meaning of my life right now. She brings me a lot of joy.

Majzner also spoke of the emotional toll of losing so many kibbutz members.

There was a time when I was going to one, two, even three funerals a day. It was overwhelming. According to Jewish tradition, you sit shiva—a seven-day mourning period—with the family. So after the funerals, I also visited the bereaved families. Eventually, I just broke down. I thought, ‘What the hell is going on? This isn’t normal. I can’t go to this many funerals.’

It was a friend who helped him reframe his trauma.

I called a close friend of mine, a nurse in an Israeli hospital. She told me something that has stayed with me ever since: 'You survived so you could tell the world what happened in the kibbutz that day.'

Majzner says this mission helped him find meaning and begin to heal.

I now lead two or three tours a week in the kibbutz. I’ve been doing this for over a year. I’ll be going to Australia soon—my birthplace—for a speaking tour. I hope to be there on the second anniversary, October 7. I’m very busy, and I truly believe I must tell people what happened that day.

Cover photo: Geoffrey "Danny" Majzner (Source: Geoffrey "Danny" Majzner)