Tomer Weinberg, an IDF veteran who was wounded in a 2006 Hezbollah ambush, remarked Wednesday on being featured in a Hezbollah documentary series that was recently launched. Weinberg survived the attack in which IDF soldiers Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev were kidnapped. Three of his comrades were killed in the attack, which sparked a war between Israel and Hezbollah in July, 2006. On Saturday, the Lebanese Al Mayadeen television network, affiliated with Hezbollah, broadcast the first installment of a three-part documentary series marking a decade since the Second Lebanon War. The makers of the series promised to show "never before seen footage" of the Regev and Goldwasser abduction. In a Facebook post, Weinberg, who was interviewed in the documentary, clarified that he was not aware that he was cooperating with Hezbollah when he gave the interview. He explained that the reporter who interviewed him misrepresented himself as an Italian journalist and had pursued him for four months. "Anyone acquainted with me knows how much I keep my distance from the media," he wrote. "How bad it makes me feel. "An imposter Italian reporter hounded me for months to get me to do an interview for a show that was supposed to air in Italy on the 10th anniversary of the Second Lebanon War," he continued. "That Italian reporter even offered me money -- 2,000 euros or dollars, I don't remember. Obviously I turned him down. I told him that my conscience wouldn't let me take money for something like that. So he took a different approach: He said that it was imperative for the Italian people to understand the suffering of the people of Israel. It was important for our side to be heard. That is he how he got me, I think. "When I gave the interview, I felt a little like an Israeli ambassador," Weinberg explained. "I talked about how badly we want some peace and quiet, and of course about the attack itself. He blackmailed me emotionally. I couldn't function for a few days afterward -- he showed me footage of the abduction while filming me. It broke me. I couldn't go on. I never dreamed that it was all a lie, and that all this material would go to Hezbollah." Weinberg said that his appearance on Al Mayadeen, which shocked him, elicited a harsh response on social media and in online comments. "I would think that any intelligent person would know that, with all my trauma and anxiety, I would never allow a Hezbollah reporter or Hezbollah representative into my home. "I was duped. I fell into a trap that people greater and wiser than me also fell into. If Tzipi Livni and Amir Peretz [who served as foreign minister and defense minister, respectively, during the war], with their battery of media advisers, fell into that trap, it makes me feel just a little less foolish." Addressing all the anonymous commenters who disparaged him for participating in the documentary, Weinberg wrote: "To all the commenters and talkbackers who jumped on me and yelled at me for interviewing with Hezbollah; to all those who wrote that I ran away and abandoned my fellow soldiers, that I didn't take care of my friends -- think for a second, or more, before you lash out. There are human beings behind this story, and it can deeply wound them, stripping them of the little energy they have left to move forward." At the start of the Facebook post, Weinberg recounted the events of that fateful morning in 2006. "The first anti-tank missile hit the hummer leading our force. I was wounded already in the vehicle from the shrapnel. I suppose that the rest of the team was too. I didn't feel any pain yet, just a massive explosion and a wave of dust and shrapnel in our faces. I realized within half a second that we had run into a [Hezbollah ambush]. "On autopilot, just like we were trained, I grab the weapon hanging around my neck, open the hummer door and jump out with the aim of getting away from the vehicle and taking cover. A second after I disembark, a second missile hits and kills Udi (as we learned in retrospect). The missile struck the precise seat where I was sitting moments earlier. Outside there is hell fire. It is not clear to me where the fire is coming from." The bitter exchange continues outside the vehicle: "The second my foot stepped outside the vehicle, a .50 bullet takes off almost my entire right hand. An 8 cm piece of bone flies off and the hand remains hanging on just a bit of skin. Excuse the graphic description, but I live this every day. You are just the end of this post. I need you to understand what happened there. "I lost my grip on my weapon, but it was still slung around my neck. Since my sleeves were rolled down (not so pleasant in mid-July, but that's how we were taught to wear them in Golani), the parts of my hand didn't disperse entirely, and it ultimately helped the doctors rehabilitate it." "In any case, I keep running. Two, three more steps and another .50 bullet rips into my back. I realize that there's a sniper on me. The bullet pierces two holes in my right lung and exits. I take a few more steps toward the side of the road and another bullet hits my leg and breaks it, taking almost my entire calf muscle. At this point I collapse on the ground after making it almost all the way to the side of the axis. "All this takes about five seconds, and I'm now about 10 meters from the hummer, which is taking most of the fire. I am convinced that this is going to be an abduction. I have no idea what is happening with my crew. "In the first seconds I was still calling out to the medic, who was in the rear vehicle. I didn't imagine that in those seconds my entire team had already been obliterated. I later learned that my friends, Shani Turjeman, Eyal Benin and Wasim Nazel, may they rest in peace, were all killed in the rear vehicle in the first strike. "It took me a few seconds to realize that I need to keep my mouth shut. I wanted to scream in pain but didn't let myself. I knew that the terrorists would be next to me at any second," he recalled. "I dragged myself back a little to not stick out. I thought about trying to cock my gun, but in my condition there was no way I would be able to do it. The only thing I could move, when my brain sent a signal, was my shoulder. I suddenly heard the terrorists very close to me. It wasn't yelling or a loud attack, just regular speech in Arabic. Almost whispers. I couldn't see them; I could only see the back of the hummer. "Then I heard dragging. They were dragging something. I tried to stay conscious as I lay in a massive puddle of blood. 'They're going to take me too,' I thought to myself. The fire didn't stop around me. They were apparently covering the abduction team. Bullets flew all the time. I knew that if they got to me, I would belong to them, alive." Weinberg went on to describe how defenseless he was and how powerless to help his team. "The investigation concluded that I lay there for 45 minutes before I was rescued. It felt like much longer. An eternity. I didn't understand where everyone was, and it didn't occur to me in those minutes that my team had already been killed. I didn't know who they took, who was dragged back there. "At first I believed that I would get out of there -- without a hand or a leg, but somehow get out of there. After a while I began losing hope. I felt my consciousness slipping. My mission became survival. Don't lose consciousness. I was very thirsty, probably because of all the blood I lost. I still wasn't afraid. My entire body was in survival mode. "I said goodbye to the world. I didn't believe I would get out alive anymore. My eyes were going dark," he went on to describe what went through his head as he waited to die. "At one point I tried to bury my head in the ground because the bullets were flying next to me. I said to myself, 'Just not in the head.' I didn't lose consciousness the entire time. I remember everything, thankfully and regretfully. I only lost consciousness on the way to the hospital, when I was pumped full of chemicals. That was the first time I felt fear. I thought I was dead. "Ten years later, I still live that morning of July 12, 2006 every day, and especially every night."