I lived through the First Lebanon war - I remember saying goodbye to my friends on my fledgling kibbutz as they got on the army bus, sent to take them to their base. And mourning three who never came home. I remember stifling hot days in bomb shelters, and sleepless nights. And then, I was also sent to Lebanon and fought in that war.
I lived through and served in reserves during the First Intifada (and when not in the army, I volunteered for B'Tselem, and risked my life traveling into the West Bank to take depositions in order to examine whether there were grounds to investigate soldiers who used their uniforms as a license to "punish" Palestinian civilians).
I lived through Saddam Hussein's Scud missiles (and fell in love with my wife in a sealed room).
I lived through the Second Intifada and helped douse a fire in our dairy, which was an act of arson by Arab neighbors.
I lived through the Second Lebanon War, finding myself squeezing against a rock wall, of Mount Carmel when caught by a rocket attack on my way home - and more hours in our safe room.
My son was in the army during Protective Edge.
And now, October 7, and this never-ending war. And it has become habit to wear the yellow ribbon pin every day. I even changed all my computer passwords to remind me every day that we still have 101 hostages not home. And my son has served 200 days in reserve duty, and counting.
It never leaves me.
And, despite all this, I read your story and your experiences and you moved me immensely. I feel the shared camaraderie through your writing and I am moved to tears. We are not alone, as long as we all pull together and stand up, together, united. We do not have a "right" to self-defense; that implies something we can choose to implement or not. We have an OBLIGATION to self-defense. There IS no choice. Knowing that there are people like you over there, and then here, with us, sharing our pain and anxiety, gives me strength to look forward to the next day, not to lose hope and to look forward with renewed determination.
Thank you. (Sorry for using this platform as a release to let it all out).
I have lived in Israel since 1982.
I lived through the First Lebanon war - I remember saying goodbye to my friends on my fledgling kibbutz as they got on the army bus, sent to take them to their base. And mourning three who never came home. I remember stifling hot days in bomb shelters, and sleepless nights. And then, I was also sent to Lebanon and fought in that war.
I lived through and served in reserves during the First Intifada (and when not in the army, I volunteered for B'Tselem, and risked my life traveling into the West Bank to take depositions in order to examine whether there were grounds to investigate soldiers who used their uniforms as a license to "punish" Palestinian civilians).
I lived through Saddam Hussein's Scud missiles (and fell in love with my wife in a sealed room).
I lived through the Second Intifada and helped douse a fire in our dairy, which was an act of arson by Arab neighbors.
I lived through the Second Lebanon War, finding myself squeezing against a rock wall, of Mount Carmel when caught by a rocket attack on my way home - and more hours in our safe room.
My son was in the army during Protective Edge.
And now, October 7, and this never-ending war. And it has become habit to wear the yellow ribbon pin every day. I even changed all my computer passwords to remind me every day that we still have 101 hostages not home. And my son has served 200 days in reserve duty, and counting.
It never leaves me.
And, despite all this, I read your story and your experiences and you moved me immensely. I feel the shared camaraderie through your writing and I am moved to tears. We are not alone, as long as we all pull together and stand up, together, united. We do not have a "right" to self-defense; that implies something we can choose to implement or not. We have an OBLIGATION to self-defense. There IS no choice. Knowing that there are people like you over there, and then here, with us, sharing our pain and anxiety, gives me strength to look forward to the next day, not to lose hope and to look forward with renewed determination.
Thank you. (Sorry for using this platform as a release to let it all out).
Thank you so much for your comment, Paul. No worries about using us as a platform. That's what we're here for!