I arrived at my uncle Momi's house in time for Shabbat dinner. Where they tried overfeeding me and I was most appreciative of food of any sort because that stuff on the plane was just not food. I also brought a few treats and quickly thebfamily started modeling for me.
There was someone missing and that was inevitable sadness. Pepe is no longer with us. But as we are dinner, i could still feel his presence - his place at the table and imagine him telling us his stories. I think they all few that emptiness.
After dinner, somehow we started talking about the wars and my uncles shared more war stories. As a Golani during the Yom Kippur war of 1973, my uncle Mome was involved in hand to hand combat in the rugged terrain of the north. There were days without sleep - the deprivation so bad that they trained their bodies to sleep on command and often while marching. The hunger so deep that at times they found themselves eating leaves out of total desperation. The fighting was hand to hand where it was pure Darwinian survivalism at work. He attributes his ability to sleep anywhere and on command to the years spent in battle.
I learned that at one point all 4 brothers were deployed at once and that my grandfather too as a civilian military soldier of sorts. My grandmother was called "the house general" because she would be home alone and would pace the rooms and the yard until some piece of news would arrive. She rarely slept and there was little to do but listen to the radio. No phone lines tâches her house at the time and news traveled from friend, to neighbor, and handed out like the traditions of the oral Torah. Miracle of miracles all my mom's brothers survived unscathed. In 1973 my parents decided to visit israel for the high holidays. They left israel in 1970 and hadn't been back. They needed to see family and wanted family to meet me. As I was only 3 at the time I have no recollection of the trip.
I also learned that the conditions of the Golan was tough that winter of 73. There was frozen rain, ice and snow and no where to hide from it. Special alpine units were dispatched and the golanis braved the elements. My parents tried returning home as the war broke out but had difficulty leaving - the military was attempted to draft my dad. All males were on call and he was not yo be exempted. Eventually, they were free to leave and returned home to LA.
War stories never seem to leave the collective Israeli memory. Everyone serves and everyone fights for the freedoms and safety they work so hard to protect.
