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We had become familiar with that sound: a from the madness. But I tried reminding
mortar soaring above us. A moment later, him: Someone needs to do it; someone needs
the field about 150 meters behind us burst to stand at the front lines when the enemy
into flames. Wondering how the fire spread is approaching.
so rapidly, I examined the terrain beneath I went through many low points of my own
us and noticed that it consisted primarily of
dried-up (and therefore highly flammable) and searched for inspiration. “If I am only
grass. If a mortar fell anywhere near us, for myself, what am I?” asks Hillel the Sage.
we would not have long to flee the flames. What makes my life more valuable than any
other young man – the fact I was born in a
It is impossible to fully describe the fear I different country? Is Israel not mine as well?
felt during moments like these. I frequently “And if not now,” continues Hillel, while I
thought of Dr. Paul Kalanithi’s words in his have the physical strength, then “when?”
memoir, When Breath Becomes Air, when he Now is the time in my life when I can sacri-
discovered that his cancer was terminal. fice myself for the Jewish people if need be.
Upon hearing his devastating prognosis,
Dr. Paul’s bright aspirations turned into a During those 11 days, I kept a diary. One of
depressing nihilism: “I saw instead only a my entries read: “I am ducking my head
blank, a harsh, a vacant, gleaming white straight into the ground, with my body laid
desert as if a sandstorm had erased all trace out, praying that I won’t be blown up or
of familiarity.” As a 20-something-year-old injured by a mortar or rocket. I yearn for
post-college soldier on the border, I too the moment when I’m safe at home and can
dreamed about what lay ahead: a good job, give my family a big hug. I can’t wait for
a lovely wife, and a welcoming community. the skies to be silent, for the background
But throughout Shomer Hachomot, I was sounds to be wind, rain, and the bristling of
uncertain that any of these things would the leaves, as opposed to explosions and the
come about. whistling of rockets above our heads.” I am
grateful that this day has arrived.
Amidst this difficult experience, I witnessed
remarkable strength from my commanders The war has just ended, yet Tzahal is
and fellow soldiers. Throughout the war, already preparing for the next one. But I
my commanders maintained order in the have faith that better times are ahead. Bret
my imagination was exploding with worst- platoon and were available to speak to us Stephens, the Pulitzer Prize-winning jour-
case scenarios (no pun intended). about anything. My fellow soldiers’ positive nalist, recently wrote in an op-ed in the New
energy and endless tzchokim (joking around) York Times: “Last year’s Abraham Accords
During the last few days of the war, we allowed us to forget where we were and brought the overarching Arab-Israeli con-
were stationed in the shetach. If anything lighten the mood somewhat. That said, the flict to a near conclusion, even if the Israe-
happened, we would be ready in seconds. situation was a living hell. All we wanted li-Palestinian conflict remains unsolved.”
In the shetach we didn’t have bomb shelters to do was return to our homes and normal Israel has finally made peace with some of
to protect us. All we could do was lay down lives, far away from the deafening booms its greatest adversaries. We must remain
and pray that the mortar wouldn’t fall on and blood of war. hopeful, for seeping into despair accom-
us. I watched my samal – chief sergeant plishes nothing. We must do everything we
– a brawny, black-haired, uber-confident My friend from Ashkelon told me that his can to bring about the words of the prophet
22-year old, look so powerless with his head mother and girlfriend were waiting for Yirmiyahu: “For I am mindful of the plans
sunk in the dirt throughout the never-end- him; he didn’t want to fight. He reminisced I have made concerning you – declares G-d
ing sirens. about their camping trips in the North and – plans for your peace, not for disaster”
showed me pictures on his Instagram –
In the middle of our hang-out, a siren went “Isn’t my girlfriend perfect?” he asked me. (22:19).
off. We heard a high-pitched whistling noise. All he wanted was to return home, away May that day come very soon. ■

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