Efraim Miller was among the first to open the doors of a bus that came under attack from Palestinian gunmen in the Jordan Valley earlier this week, enabling soldiers trapped inside to safely exit the vehicle.
"I understood something was happening, that this was a terror attack," says Miller, 33, who himself lost a father in a terror attack, and who now resides in the Jordan Valley settlement of Mahane Gadi.
"I saw the pick-up truck used by the terrorists releasing smoke." Miller then turned back, took out his gun, and began to scan the scene.
"I heard yelling from inside the bus, 'terror attack, terror attack'", he says. "I saw the bus was riddled with bullet holes. There was no driver, and the bus was slowly rolling toward the side of the road."
He said he heard screams of soldiers inside, calling for someone to stop the bus.
"There was a potent smell and I was scared that the bus would explode at any minute, with all the soldiers inside. I tried to get in through the driver's window in order to open the doors, but I couldn't manage," Miller says. "I went around the bus and opened it through the emergency handles. I scanned the bus to make sure no one remained inside, and then passed on an organized report to the officials on the scene," he says.
Then, along with a neighbor from his community, Miller proceeded to join the chase after the terrorists' car.
Miller lost his father, Shlomo, 19 years ago in a terror attack in the West Bank settlement of Itamar. He was 14 at the time. His father was then-Itamar's head of security, and rushed to assist the settlement's guards at the gate. He was shot and killed by the terrorist, who was a security officer in the Palestinian Authority.
"We were in the operations room and I heard about the attack on the radio," he says. "I asked the person in charge, and he told me that the chief of security of the settlement had been hit, and then it dawned on me: 'that's my father,'" Miller says.
He says the only thing that was on his mind during Sunday's attack - to save the victims. But, he says he was later overwhelmed by emotions. "When the adrenaline rush passed, everything surfaced and I thought about the terror attack with dad. The tears started falling and I thought of my wife and kids, and that I cannot leave them alone. These were difficult moments," he says.
For years, the Jordan Valley was calm with only talk of agriculture, sunshine and the pastoral views, among its Jewish residents - even though the valley lies beyond the Green Line. But since the attack on Sunday, the sense of security of the residents has been shaken.
"Until today we felt safe in the valley, and now we understand that this was an illusion," Yoel Tubiana, a local resident, says. "The assailants took advantage of the quiet here and of the fact that there were no military check points anymore," he says.
"Unfortunately the openings in the partition fence, used by Palestinian workers to illegally enter the area, were not closed and that is a shame," he says.
Even the day after the terror attack, Palestinian agriculture laborers could be seen working the land of Israeli-owned fields in the Jordan Valley. Those who live in the nearby town of Tamun had to take a longer route home because of the attack since the IDF blocked off certain roads.
"If someone carries out a terror attack, why do I need to suffer? We are farmers, we use this road to work for the Israelis. Why close us off? If there is a terrorist creating problems and they caught him and he is in jail, why close off the road? It hurts us," the agricultural worker says.