On Monday, February 16, an Israeli drone strike killed a Lebanese citizen in the southern town of Tallousah. But beyond the brief headline lies a deeper story, one that speaks to the resolve of ordinary people who, when confronted with sudden death, choose composure over fear and stand firm to defend the homeland against a cruel enemy.
Ahmad Termos, 62, was on Monday on a family visit. Within minutes, he was forced into a choice no human being should ever face: to die alone, or to take his loved ones with him, Lebanese journalist Rudwan Murtada wrote on Tuesday.
عندما تكون الحقيقة أكثر قسوةً من الخيال.
— رُضوان (@radwanmortada) February 17, 2026
أمس، في بلدة طلّوسة، كان الشهيد أحمد ترمس (62 عاماً) في زيارة عائلية. جلس مع زوجته في منزل شقيقها. صوتُ مسيّرةٍ في السماء، ثم مسيّرة ثانية. لم يكد يدخل ليجلس حتى رنّ هاتفه. ردّ أحمد. جاءه الصوت بارداً واضحاً: معنا أحمد ترمس؟ فأجاب بنعم،…
Ahmad had been sitting with his wife at her brother’s house when the buzz of a drone thickened the air overhead. Then his phone rang.
He answered.
A voice introduced itself without hesitation: “This is the Israeli army. Are you Ahmad Termos?”
“Yes,” he replied.
The ultimatum followed, stark and deliberate: “You either die with those around you… or alone.”
“Alone,” Ahmad answered, according to the Lebanese journalist.
He ended the call. Those in the room noticed the change in his expression. His brother-in-law, Salim, asked what had happened. Ahmad’s response was calm and direct: “The Israelis. Get up and leave. They say either you die with me… or I die alone.”
There was no panic in his voice. No pleading. He urged them to leave, to save themselves, to allow him to face what was coming. At first, they refused. They insisted on staying, on sharing his fate. He steadied them, persuaded them, and insisted again.
For a brief moment, he seemed to forget he was not in his own home. Then the realization struck him: he would not let death visit a house that was not his. If it had come for him, he would take it elsewhere.
He said goodbye. He stepped outside, got into his car, and drove away from the house. A short distance later, he stopped.
Seconds passed, a drone fired two missiles, Murtada recounted.
في بلدة طلوسة جنوب لبنان، قبل قليل، قـ..ـتل العـ..دو الإسـ..رائيلي الحاج أحمد ترمس أمام منزله وأمام أعين عائلته، بعد عامين من استـ..شهاد نجله في الشهر نفسه (شباط ٢٠٢٤) على يد العـ..دو المتوحش #جنوب_لبنان pic.twitter.com/uAJGxBNl1z
— Fatima Daoud 🇱🇧 (@fatimadaoud) February 16, 2026
The vehicle burst into flames. Ahmad Termos was martyred instantly. His body was torn apart in the blaze. The car was reduced to charred metal — and another name was added to the long list of the Lebanese martyrs.
Ahmad’s Dream
Ahmad’s story, however, did not begin on Monday.
Two years earlier, he had buried his son, Hasan, who was martyred by the same enemy. Nearly a year ago, Ahmad told relatives he had seen Hasan in a dream, saying they would meet again in February.
What does a person feel when they are told the exact terms of their own death? What calculation takes place in the span of a breath, when love, fear, responsibility and sacrifice collide? To choose not only to die, but to decide who will live, this is a burden few can imagine.
Ahmad was not the first to receive such a call, Murtada wrote.
Days earlier, another young man from south Lebanon was driving with his wife when his phone rang with a similar warning by the Israeli enemy. He stopped the car, helped her out, moved her to safety — and then drove on alone before the Israeli missile struck.
These attacks, repeated in different villages across southern Lebanon, have created a grim pattern: A drone overhead, a phone call, a choice between solitary death and shared destruction by an enemy whose brutality knows no boundary.
The story of Ahmad Termos, as well as the second martyr, is more than a story of one man or one strike. It is a portrait of an entire nation who have learned to stand upright in the shadow of drones, who measure fear against duty, and finally, they choose dignity.
Source: Lebanese media (translated and edited by Al-Manar English Website)