Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day)
This is a day late, but I was too tired and cold to post this last night.. Israel's Memorial Day is always the day before our Independence Day. It was set this way so we would remember that we have paid a price to have our state's independence. I don't think there is a single person in Israel who either knows someone who died in one of our wars/military service/terror attack, or knows someone who lost a person.
On a personal level, one of my classmates died in Lebanon a couple of months before we pulled our troops out of there. He was 21 years old. Since the first person in my class entered the military I had this panic in my that something like this would happen, that we would get this news, that something happened. One morning in June 1999, it happened. While we weren't that close, something like this stays with you forever. There's always something that reminds me of him, but these two days he's always in my thoughts.
The Parade of The Fallen
Hayim Hefer
They come from the mountains,
from the valley, from the desert,
They come - names, faces, eyes -
and stand for the parade.
They come in a masculine step,
strong and sunburnt,
They emerge from the shattered planes
and from the burnt tanks;
They rise from behind the rocks, from across
the dunes, from connecting ditches,
Brave as lions, tough as tigers, swift as eagles,
And they pass one by one
beween two rows of angels,
Who feed them candy and place flowers
around their necks;
And I look at them, and all of them are happy.
These are my brothers, these are my brothers.
And they meet one another,
black eyes and blue and brown,
And they remind each other of names,
and weapons, and places,
And pour each other cups of coffee and tea
And burst suddenly together shouting: "Hi, Boy!"
And they meet in the large assemblage,
friends and comrades,
And officers slap the privates' shoulders
and the privates shake the officers' hands,
And they burst in song and clap hands
And all the dwellers of heaven listen to them
beside themselves,
And the get-together lasts a day and a night,
and a day and a night,
Because such a bunch has not yet been above!
And then suddenly they hear familiar voices cry,
And they look homeward at father and mother,
at the wives, children and brothers,
And their faces are silent
and they stand perplexed
And then someone quickly whispers:
Forgive us, but we had to!
We won the battles and now we are resting.
These are my brothers, these are my brothers.
And so they stand, the light on their faces,
And the Lord alone passes among them,
With tears in His eyes He kisses their wounds
And He says in a trembling voice
to the white angels:
These are my sons,
these are my sons!
Ehud Goldwasser - 666 days away from home.
Eldad Regev - 666 days away from home.
Gilad Schalit - 683 days away from home.
Ron Arad - 7,867 days away from home.
On a personal level, one of my classmates died in Lebanon a couple of months before we pulled our troops out of there. He was 21 years old. Since the first person in my class entered the military I had this panic in my that something like this would happen, that we would get this news, that something happened. One morning in June 1999, it happened. While we weren't that close, something like this stays with you forever. There's always something that reminds me of him, but these two days he's always in my thoughts.
Click to viewThe Parade of The Fallen
Hayim Hefer
They come from the mountains,
from the valley, from the desert,
They come - names, faces, eyes -
and stand for the parade.
They come in a masculine step,
strong and sunburnt,
They emerge from the shattered planes
and from the burnt tanks;
They rise from behind the rocks, from across
the dunes, from connecting ditches,
Brave as lions, tough as tigers, swift as eagles,
And they pass one by one
beween two rows of angels,
Who feed them candy and place flowers
around their necks;
And I look at them, and all of them are happy.
These are my brothers, these are my brothers.
And they meet one another,
black eyes and blue and brown,
And they remind each other of names,
and weapons, and places,
And pour each other cups of coffee and tea
And burst suddenly together shouting: "Hi, Boy!"
And they meet in the large assemblage,
friends and comrades,
And officers slap the privates' shoulders
and the privates shake the officers' hands,
And they burst in song and clap hands
And all the dwellers of heaven listen to them
beside themselves,
And the get-together lasts a day and a night,
and a day and a night,
Because such a bunch has not yet been above!
And then suddenly they hear familiar voices cry,
And they look homeward at father and mother,
at the wives, children and brothers,
And their faces are silent
and they stand perplexed
And then someone quickly whispers:
Forgive us, but we had to!
We won the battles and now we are resting.
These are my brothers, these are my brothers.
And so they stand, the light on their faces,
And the Lord alone passes among them,
With tears in His eyes He kisses their wounds
And He says in a trembling voice
to the white angels:
These are my sons,
these are my sons!
Ehud Goldwasser - 666 days away from home.
Eldad Regev - 666 days away from home.
Gilad Schalit - 683 days away from home.
Ron Arad - 7,867 days away from home.