Hamas rockets have also kept killing people in Israel — 13 in all since the start on May 10. Among the dead were three foreign workers, who make up most of Israel’s agricultural work force but have long endured squalid living conditions there. After two Thai employees of a packaging plant near the Gaza border were killed on Tuesday, a local official told The Times of Israel newspaper that the agricultural community where they worked did not have an adequate shelter against rockets.

Israel says its American-funded Iron Dome defense system has intercepted about 90 percent of the rockets.

In Gaza, there is neither Iron Dome nor dedicated shelter, only the strip’s United Nations-run schools, whose classrooms are overflowing with 47,000 evacuees. The United Nations said another 29,000 people have been forced to leave their homes and shelter with other families, for a total of about 75,000 people displaced in Gaza by the Israeli military campaign.

In the jagged blackness where he was buried under what had been his apartment, Mr. Ishkontana said, he could hear Zein, his 2-year-old, moving around and crying, “Baba! Baba!” Dana, 8, was also calling to her father for help, her voice trembling.

Mr. Ishkontana was pinned in place. The walls, pillar and roof had fallen on his chest, back, hand and right leg, breaking two ribs and slicing off a finger. He tried shouting for help, but he barely had the strength.

“I was surrounded by death and the end of life,” he said. “I felt like my life was over. I was waiting for death at any moment.”

After a few minutes, Zein went quiet. So did Dana.

Six hours passed.

Then there was a noise, Mr. Ishkontana recalled. A whir of machinery, faint but unmistakable. A bulldozer?

“Who’s alive?” he heard a man calling. “Is anyone alive?”

Hope crashed over him, carrying with it the thought: I’m going to live.

“Oh God!” he started shouting, alternating prayers with calls to the rescuers. One of them told him to keep breathing while they dug down toward him through the debris, gray but for the occasional splotch of floral couch or purple dishrag or bag of bread.

The rescuer asked Mr. Ishkontana if there were any signs of life around him.

No, he said.

When Mr. Ishkontana saw a small hole open up above him, he stuck two fingers through it to let them know they had found him. Up above, people were chanting, “God is great! God is great!” He raised the two fingers in a weak victory sign.

His feelings, he said in an interview on Wednesday at a relative’s house, where visitors had come to offer condolences after he was discharged from a hospital, were a jumble: “power, mercy, strength, survival.”

“A new life appeared on the horizon when they moved the rubble,” said Mr. Ishkontana, who, after losing his job as a waiter at a Thai restaurant during the coronavirus pandemic, had turned to odd jobs. “Even though I was thinking at the same time that because I lost my family, my whole life was gone.”

At Shifa Hospital several hours later, someone gave him the news: One of his daughters, 7-year-old Suzy, had been found alive under the rubble a few hours after him, only lightly wounded in the face. In joy, then terror, he asked about the rest of his family: his wife, Abeer, 28; and Dana, 8; Lana, 6; Yahya, 5; and baby Zein.

The man said rescuers were still hoping to save them from the rubble.

But he knew that the man was trying to cushion the blow, Mr. Ishkontana said. He knew they were all gone.

Iyad Abuheweila reported from Gaza City, and Vivian Yee from Cairo. Gabby Sobelman contributed reporting from Rehovot, Israel, and Elian Peltier from Inverie, Scotland.

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