Yom HaZikaron 2008

This year was my first year for the Memorial Day/Independence Day circuit as a citizen. I have been here before on these, two of the most awesome (in both meanings of the word) days of the year to be an Israeli. In Israel, Memorial Day and Independence Day are the complete opposite of what they are in America. There is no such thing as celebrating with shopping or football games. This two day period is for family time, reflecting, remembering, mourning, and then celebrating like there will be no tomorrow! Everything shuts down and everyone celebrates (Memorial Day is a half workday unless you request to get off).

This year I wanted to take advantage of everything and really experience it all. Memorial Day is marked here with a siren that sounds throughout the ENTIRE country. When the siren sounds everything stops and everyone stands at attention. Traffic stops and people get out of their cars to stand together with the rest of the nation for a minute of true silence and reflection. This year I had been at an engagement party in the early evening but wanted to be in a public place to be able to properly observe the moment of silence and to be outside with the rest of everyone while it happened. I went down to Emek Refaim (the main street by my house) and sat on a bench for 10 minutes watching the people go by until the siren went off. The sound is piercing and in the complete silence all around you it’s as if you can feel the sound of the siren reverberating through your body. It is haunting. It feels like something is entering your soul—standing there with everyone else doing nothing but thinking about the fact that it is Memorial Day is an incredible thing. That feeling is one of the reasons I want to live here. That feeling means that I am part of something greater than I am, that is worth dying for. And those who have made the ultimate sacrifice so that I may live safely and free in my homeland are worth remembering.

Later that evening I went with my friend Noam, who is currently serving in a combat unit, to the neighborhood ceremony. Every area has their own little ceremony to commemorate those who fell from their communities. It was small and personal and really nice. I haven’t lived here long enough to recognize most of the names of those who had fallen in battle or who had been killed in terror attacks, but Noam who has lived here his whole life knew of many of them. It was a somber evening and very much befitting the occasion.

The next morning I went with my friend Arielle and David’s brother Ari to the National War Cemetery at Har Hertzl. On Memorial Day morning there is a major ceremony presided over by the Prime Minister and Minister of Defense, but more importantly it is a time to go visit graves of soldier who you knew or didn’t know or maybe those who’s stories you heard once or those who have no one left to visit them at all. This was the first time that I had a specific grave that I wanted to visit. Over a year ago, a soldier was killed in some sort of parachuting accident during advanced training. The details have never been released… He used to come spend almost every summer in Houston visiting his grandmother and uncle so we were very friendly. He also grew up with David in Efrat. I was in Austin for the funeral and when they had a memorial service for him I was in the country but sick and couldn’t go. It was important for me to be able to at least visit his grave once. The other thing about going to Har Hertzl on Yom HaZikaron is that it’s packed. More packed than the most popular concert. It is packed with people from all walks of society. Another aspect of Israel that I love so much is that everyone fights together and unfortunately everyone dies together, but at the end of the day all differences are put aside and religious and non-religious people hug each other and cry and share memories because we are all one people. (I purposely didn’t say anything about the Charedim…don’t get me started)

We found the grave but it was already surrounded by his former unit and other friends and family members who came to pay their respects. Because we were relatively late, we couldn’t get too close and instead ended up next to a grave farther along the row. The grave happened to be of a soldier, named Roi Klein, who had been a student (a few years older and already married with children) at David’s Yeshiva. His story is that during the Second Lebanon War he was up in Lebanon as an officer with his troops when a grenade was thrown to where they were all clustered. Rather than run and take the chance that only most of his unit would be either killed or seriously injured, he jumped on the grenade. His last words were the Shema as he absorbed the blast and saved the lives of every single one of his soldiers. His sacrifice is of the highest level and I felt honored to be able to pay my respects to such a wonderful man on such an important day.

Another siren sounds on the morning of Memorial Day to mark the beginning of the official ceremony. The siren had the same affect of me in the morning except I was a bit too squished to feel too much emotion. The ceremony was broadcast over speakers throughout the cemetery and was pretty routine. At the end though, with the singing of the national anthem, the Hatikvah (the hope), I began to lose it. Standing there in the packed cemetery amidst all of the families of fallen soldier, current soldiers, and regular citizens coming to pay respects with everyone singing at the top of their lungs about the hope to “be a free nation in our land, the land of Zion and Jerusalem” and knowing that it is coming true. Because of the graves we were standing next to we have a country to sing about and to be proud of and to live in. It was truly an amazing thing. I could hardly get the words out I was crying so hard because I was sad because I was happy to be here because I am scared that with the way things are going things might not continue to be so great. I was crying because I had the opportunity to stand among my brethren and say to the world that we are here and we are alive and we are strong and we aren’t going anywhere. It’s days like that that tell me that I made the right decision and that this is where I belong.

The next punch came when the crowd around me started to spontaneously sing “Ani Maamin” which basically states our believe that one day the messiah will come and that no matter how bad things get we will not lose hope and faith. This is when I REALLY started to lose it. Seeing the parents of so many soldiers sing this song with strong voices made me feel week. I wish I could posses the strength that these people have in their pinkie finger. They have lost children and siblings and parents and friends and still nothing can shake their hope and their faith and their strength. I feel a sense of unbelievable empowerment just being in the same space as these wonderful people.

I don’t know what was happening in the other areas of the cemetery (which is HUGE) but I was in the most recently filled area with victims of the last war and other tragedies since. There has been a movement within the National Religious sector to emphasize the importance of army service and not just as the bare minimum but as a serious “donation” to the country and to society. The yeshiva where David studied encourages its students to sign on optional time in the army and to join combat units as well as “less prestigious” units to try to raise the overall level in the entire army by being good people and a good example. This 20-something year old movement has really born fruit. There are religious officers and soldiers all over the army and not-so-slowly climbing the ranks (in officers school about 1/3 of the cadets are religious even though they represent less than 10% of the population). This was clearly evident by the overwhelming number of religious Jews standing by the graves of their loved ones. The area of the cemetery was filled with a majority of national religious fallen soldiers and it was truly heartwarming to see what an influence and a difference this movement is having on the army and the rest of the country.