Together press finale!!!! by hila

APRIL 2015

Together

Looking Towards the Future

Contents: Without a father | 4 End of Assignment | 10 Fulfilling his promise | 16 Cover: Outgoing IDF Chief of Staff, Lt. Gen. Benny Gantz

Alone down the aisle | 22

IDF Widows & Orphans Organization is deeply grateful for your generosity in supporting our vital work.

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Dear friends, may this holiday bring

happiness to you and your loved ones, and may the joys remain with you throughout the year. Wishing you a happy Pesach.

Chairwoman: Nava Soham-Solan CEO: Yuval Lipkin Editing team: Nava Soham-Solan, Michal Meckler, Tzur Thon, Gil Tevet, Yarden Benzur, Noa Amiel Lavie Translation: Alisa Shilor Designd: Jedlin Studio Photography: Koby Koenkas

Israel Defense Forces Widows & Orphans Organization 1 Oranim St., Givat Shmuel 54052, Israel Tel: 972-3-6918403 Fax: 972-3-6916483 Email: office@idfwo.org Website: www.idfwo.org Facebook: IDF Widows & Orphans Organization

Dear friends,

fter years in which our paths crossed in the most painful corridors or the Israeli society, in which Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Benny Gantz has revealed, layer after layer, the person, commander and leader he is, I take liberty to begin with these words.

Together with Nava Shoham - Solan Chairwoman, IDFWO

I remember, around the end of his first year as the Chief of Staff, he attended IDF Widows & Orphans Organization’s annual Bar & Bat Mitzvah celebration in Jerusalem. I immediately saw he was tired and restless, probably after or in the midst of a busy day, maybe a week, probably a year. “Working hard?” I asked, and added, “You need some rest”. “I’ll get my rest in two years” he responded immediately, not knowing that he will be asked to serve an additional year. His long days made long weeks, months and years yet he never forgot the families of his fallen soldiers. He went out of his way not only to attend our events, but also spent tens of Friday afternoons visiting family after family in their homes, making sure they all know that the Chief of Staff as well as the entire army he’s commanding are with them, and forever will be. He has touched the lives of so many of our women and children with the comfort he offered, with his warm words that came from his heart and gently entered ours, with his firm hug to the children and the spirit of his leadership that was and still is present even when he isn’t. Now, after almost 40 years of service of which 4 as the Chief of Staff we wish Lt. Gen. Benny Gantz to get some rest. It’s time for him to spend time with his wife Revital and beautiful children before he will get called back to the flag again, before Israelis will ask him to continue making us a better society. We, IDF Widows & Orphans know that our husbands and fathers fought under the command of a leader, commander, person, who is worthy for this historic role. That is, my friends, an enormous comfort.

without r e h t a f a Noa Amiel Lavie

Two stories about children that celebrated their Bar and Bat-Mitzvah without their fathers who lost their lives defending Israel. Twelve-year-old Ori Ben-Ephraim’s telephone is vibrating nonstop. The WhatsApp group to which she and dozens of other children belong doesn’t rest for a moment. They know each other well, at least as much as friends who are used to seeing each other every day. However the last time they saw each other was long months ago, in another activity that the IDFWO organized for them. Despite the fact that they see each other only a few times a year, each

time the excitement overflows anew. Perhaps that is since this is the only group in which they don’t need to explain themselves or to deal with worried or compassionate glances. Here everyone is the same. Everyone in the group lost his father in battle or in operational activity while trying to protect the homeland. Here they don’t have to explain the pain, because no one has to ask in order to understand. That morning the close-knit group was more excited than usual, since not only were they

Photos: Koby Koankas

going to get together again, but they would also be celebrating their bar and bat-mitzvah year together as one united group. Ben-Ephraim was born after her father, Dror, lost his life in battle, and she therefore was brought up with bereavement. For her the group is her natural surroundings, and a joint celebration is anticipated. In the meantime, at the same hour of the early morning, a 12-year-old boy with red hair and wise eyes is standing at the noisy Ra’anana intersection. He moves his legs

Uri Greenberg, son of Major Amotz Greenberg z”l, lost his father in Operation Protective Edge

He went before I had the chance to say a final goodbye

impatiently, waiting for the transportation that is supposed to come within a few minutes. When the bus arrives, he gets on apprehensively. “Uri Greenberg,” the counselor says with a smile on his face, “It’s good to see you here.” For Greenberg, this was his first experience with the group. Last summer he lost his father, Amotz, in Operation Protective Edge. “I was very concerned about participating in this event, because I didn’t know anyone there,” Greenberg openly shares.

“I didn’t know what awaited me. It seemed that everyone there knew each other, while I came and they didn’t know me at all. Everything was very new for me. In the end it turned out that I made new friends, and a lot of them. I feel that it is a family, because everyone knows what happened to you, they understand, and they don’t relate to you in a special way.” It apparently seems to be that way when an experienced mourner meets a new one.

Longings from last summer Greenberg doesn’t want people to look at him unusually. He lives in Hod Hasharon, a small city in central Israel. Everyone knows everyone else, especially the little boy who lost his father in Operation Protective Edge that impacted so many families. Shortly after the shiva week of mourning, Uri went to buy bread at the bakery. The salesperson stared at him for a few moments with a look full of compassion, and refused to take money from him. Greenberg felt confused, and mostly sad and filled with longing – for the way life used to be, when he was a regular boy with a regular father and regular glances. “People always relate to me in a special way,” he tries to explain, “especially children. This

year I began studying in middle school and I noticed that they don’t connect with me. It is as if they are afraid to speak.” On the shelf in young Greenberg’s room are a number of golden trophies. “My father very much loved running,” he says proudly. “This year they held a race in his memory, and his group won first place. They received the trophy and transferred it to me. I keep it here.” On a Friday in July, when the Operation had just begun, 46-year-old Amotz Greenberg was called up to military reserve service. At his age, he was already exempt from military reserve duty, but because of his love for the army and his team, he continued to renew his contract with the IDF. In that operation, he served as an op-

erations officer in the Armored Corps. “He loved it,” says Uri, “but I did not love that he did it – I was afraid that a tragedy would happen.” “I remember that during the evening when they called my father to military reserve duty, I spoke with a friend on Skype,” Greenberg recalls. My father called out to me, ‘Come on and say goodbye before I go.’ I ran to him, hugged him, and exactly then there was an emergency siren.” The whole family went down to the shelter and Amotz left as soon as it was over. “He went before I had the chance to say a final goodbye. He said he was late.” But that time Greenberg, the son, was not worried. “I thought to myself, he can’t get hurt, he’s not at the Gaza border. They haven’t gone

woke up pretty late that day, and I remember that we tried to contact my father by phone but he didn’t answer,” Uri recalls. “We went to my grandfather and grandmother, and he still didn’t answer. We already made up a joke that he probably fell from the tank, because his age is not typical for fighting in a war.”

Daughters of fallen soldiers celebrating their Bat Mitzvah with IDFWO

It is a privilege to go to the Bar Mitzvah event. Despite what happened, good things also happen in yet. Aside from that, my father is strong and can do anything.” Major (Res.) Amotz Greenberg was a lawyer and accountant by profession, and head of an investigations team at the Israel Securities Authority. Even at his job

interview for the position of investigator, Amotz wore his uniform because he had just come back from military reserve duty and didn’t have time to change. His colleagues from work tell about a happy person, a dedicated family man who did professional work at the Authority and was very much appreciated. He led, among others, the investigation in the I.D.B. stock ramping matter. Greenberg is listed as one of the witnesses for the prosecution in the case when the presentation of evidence will begin in November. He was also a witness in the Melisron stock manipulation case that was completed at the end of 2013. On the following day which was Saturday morning, the optimism changed. “We

When do you understand that something happens? “My mother and my big sister started to worry, and they said that something certainly happened. But not me, I was optimistic. However it turned out that during the time when we were trying to reach my father, the IDF officers were trying to reach us. They already had gone to my grandfather and grandmother in southern Israel, and informed them of what had happened to my father. For some reason they didn’t succeed in contacting us by phone. In the meantime my mother and big sister each went to lie down and rest. My little sister played with Barbie dolls, and I was at the computer. Then suddenly, there was a knock at the door.” Lihi, the older sister, looked through the peephole in the door and saw that it was covered. Uri began to feel concerned and was sure that these are imposters. “I called my mother who quickly got up from bed. She apparently already knew. Shirah, my little sister, also followed us right away. I stayed pretty much further back – because I thought like this: If these are thieves, maybe I will take a knife from the kitchen and protect my mother and sisters from behind. I wasn’t able to hear what they said that immediately caused my mother to scream. A second afterwards, I simply also began to shout, even though during the first seconds I didn’t at all understand why. Afterwards I saw soldiers at the door, and my grandmother standing behind them, crying. Suddenly I understood what happened. It just turned on a switch in my head.” Was there a moment that you thought he was just injured? “I knew I would never see him again.” How does it feel? “It is impossible to describe this feeling. I still am unable to understand it. I prefer not to think about it.”

The shivah week of mourning was long. Each day, from the morning until the evening, people came to and went from the house. “Every day lots of people and newspaper reporters came. Even foreign reporters were here. We spoke with them. People from the government came here – the former President, Shimon Peres, came to visit on his last day of the presidency. I felt it was really important to lots of people. Ten thousand people attended the funeral.” During the shivah it was difficult for Uri to fall asleep. “I would feel that a minute passes, and then two, and three, and wasn’t able to fall asleep. After I finally managed to fall asleep, at six in the morning I heard an emergency siren. Fortunately, I heard sirens from a distance so I was able to quickly put on normal clothes and go down to the shelter.” Do you feel that you have remained the same boy that you were, from last summer and afterwards? “No. I feel something has changed. I am surely not the same boy. I don’t know, I simply feel that something has changed. I don’t know where, I don’t know what, I simply feel that it changed.” He tries to talk about what happened last summer as little as possible at school, and it’s apparent that he wants to go back to his previous life, to the same Uri that he used to be. But he also knows that this won’t happen anymore. “When we were at the bar-mitzvah, there was no need to talk about these things,” he remembers. “We simply make an effort to enjoy, and put things in a less emotional place.”

Not to see my father ever again To some extent, Ori Ben-Ephraim did not have to get used to a new reality. The reality that Greenberg is getting used to today is one that Ben-Ephraim was born with and that she knows her entire life. She lives in Karkur. Her mother remarried about four years ago, and she has two small siblings – Ofri, who is three years old, and Rani who is one year old. In 1997 Ori’s mother, Ifat, was introduced to Ori’s father, Dror, by mutual friends. Three years later, the two were married. In 2002, Operation Defensive Shield took place. It was intended to damage the Palestinian terror infrastructure

in the areas of Judea and Samaria. In April of that year, Dror’s platoon encountered an ambush planned by terrorists. Dror was with his soldiers and lost his life in the battle. He was only 28 years old. The bad news was very difficult, especially for his new wife. At the end of the shivah, good news came to drive away the darkness and bring a lot of light when Ifat disclosed that she was pregnant with their daughter. Dror unfortunately never knew that he would have a child. “My mother told me that everyone was really happy, and amidst all the sadness I was a sort of small light. Therefore they also call me Ori”, [which in Hebrew means “my light”], Ben-Ephraim explains. When Ori was 11, she began going to the IDFWO “Otzma” camps. There she met many more children her age who share the same loss. At an age such as this the loss is perhaps difficult to internalize, to understand or even to speak about. On one occasion she discovered completely by chance that her good friend and roommate lost her own father in the same incident in which BenEphraim lost hers. “It was helpful to know that there is someone else who was also born after her father was killed. It was actually pretty much the same thing. I was a little bit shocked. I thought that everyone had children older than I was. I didn’t know that there was someone else my age. It was somewhat emotional for me. It made me want to be more of a friend for her, even though I am everyone’s friend.” Already during the first trip that BenEphraim joined, she was able to find a lot of things in common with the group that made her want to join more and more outings and camps. “They understand you, because everyone comes from the same place. Let’s say, it’s not like in the classroom where everyone has a father and mother. Here everyone is about the same. It’s fun to see that there are other people who love the things that I love, and who are similar to me in many ways. This loss connected us. If it wouldn’t have happened, I wouldn’t know the people that I love so much from all over Israel. There is no chance that I would have had a friend from Jerusalem or from the north. It’s so enjoyable to meet with children from all over Israel, with whom you otherwise would not have met at all.”

Bar-Mitzvah for heroes During the first months in which Greenberg tried to acclimate himself to the new situation, he received an invitation to join bar and bat-mitzvah celebrations for other children who lost parents that had served in the IDF. He was very unsure of what to do, since he didn’t know anyone. He even had the feeling that in just such a place he could put aside his personal mourning. “The morning began very early and we arrived in Jerusalem,” he remembers with a smile. “The first stop was the Herzl Museum, and afterwards we, the boys, were called to the Torah.” Ben-Ephraim also remembers with a smile the same emotionally moving day, “When the boys were called to the Torah I was very excited,” she reveals. “In addi-

tion, there were actors whom we admire very much,” But the best moment for BenEphraim was when they sat and watched the ceremony. “It was a really beautiful ceremony – especially when they chose some of the children to read passages. One of them went up to the stage together with the President. I watched this from the audience and it was very thrilling.” At a certain stage during the day, the children went up on the stage. Greenberg was also asked to go up, and there he saw a familiar person – the IDF Chief of Staff. “It was very important and exciting for me to see the Chief of Staff,” he admits. “I felt that they really remember us and the reason that we are here. He was also at our house when he made a condolence visit during the shiva, so he already remembered me.

It meant a lot for me to meet him again.” The joint bat-mitzvah celebration was a very exciting event for Ori. “It was extremely pleasant, because I was anxious to see everyone. The activities were really enjoyable – they took us to the Herzl Museum, the boys were called to the Torah, we met with actors whom we love, and there was a really beautiful ceremony. When they took several children to read, one of them read with the President and it was very exciting. I found it the most exciting when we sat and watched the ceremony.” If you would meet a child in your situation who is unsure of whether to join the program, what would you say to him? “He should think about this not being for everyone. It is a privilege to go there, and

he will enjoy it because it is a lot of fun. This is what distinguishes you. You meet many kinds of people and get together with new friends. It should be thought about it in a good way. Despite what happened, good things also happen.”

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End of

Assignment Benny Gantz, the IDF’s 20th Chief of Staff speaks about the notes with names of the fallen soldiers in Operation Protective Edge, the visits with their families, the personal friend who remained 23 years old, and the dream of days to come Nava Shoham- So lan & Gil Tevet

runs scenarios and thoughts that during the daytime I know how to direct and organize. I have been a soldier and a commander for many years and know how to differentiate between things - not to be busy all the time with the most sensitive matters and to give everything its due attention without having the issues that cause concern to constantly be troubling or worrisome.” At night it is the subconscious that commands matters.

Our Profession The conversation is relaxed. Relatively few words are spoken. Gantz thinks for several seconds before he responds to questions. He doesn’t function automatically, doesn’t speak in clichés and empty slogans. He doesn’t have to speak from above about “values”, “mission,” “the love of Israel,” when it is possible to speak about people and moments. He doesn’t have to say, “Believe me,” in order for us to believe him. The number one officer also has within him something civilian. In this connection, an officer who served under him when he was a Paratrooper Battalion 890

Photos. Koby Koenkas

The wide door opened and the Chief of Military Intelligence, General Herzi Halevi, and his assistant came out into the hallway. It feels strange for us to enter the office of the Chief of Staff after the Chief of Military Intelligence walks out. We look at the face of Lieutenant General Benny Gantz and search for signs of the discussion that just ended. At moments like these the imagination works well, and usually goes to faraway places and to young men who were sent on dangerous missions. Just 3 days ago there were reports all over the world about an Israeli attack on several targets in Syria. Perhaps we are exaggerating and this was another discussion about personnel placements or budget problems. Either way, the smile on the face of the Chief of Staff is pleasant and warm. It is the evening and he is in the middle of a long workday. “I sleep at night,” he answers when we ask about having to conduct a normal life while performing a role so complicated and demanding, “but I don’t sleep well. The nighttime hours are apparently those in which all by itself the mind

The Chief of Staff embraces Uri Greenberg at the IDFWO Bar Mitzvah event

commander was once quoted as saying, “I was happy that such a man is in the army, but it was also clear to me that he should be a school principal or some leader of change in Israeli society. Benny is an educator, deep and charismatic. Often the charisma of the battalion commanders arises from the feeling of intimidation that the soldiers experience in a very demanding and relentless atmosphere. In contrast, Benny always led with his reasoning and good judgment. We try to understand from him what it is like to command and direct one of the busiest armies in the world, while living with a daily schedule that includes not only discussions about the IDF in 30 years from now but also decisions about ongoing military activity - 30 seconds before reaching a target. “With the Air Force Commander, Amir Eshel,” says the Chief of Staff, “I need exactly 30 - 40 seconds to listen, understand and decide. We speak quickly and in codes - ‘flight altitude, type of bomb, angle of attack’. Our profession is about understanding these things and deciding quickly on complex matters. There is also time for complicated and deep discussions. I have personal time for thinking further and the opportunity for organizing things in my mind when I run. I love to run and do it every day. I run slowly, by the way.” On the other side of the 14th floor in the General Staff Headquarters in Tel Aviv, is Gantz’s replacement, in the meantime still Deputy Chief of Staff, Major General Gadi Eisencott. The transition process will take place smoothly and pleasantly, as characteristic of these two officers. Several days ago, when he met with his staff concerning the long schedule of farewells, it was slowly understood that he is going to leave, after 38 consecutive years of service. “At the National Defense College event several days ago, they asked me, ‘What have you not yet accomplished in your role?’ and then I realized that this is it. Very soon I will no longer be Chief of Staff.”

One note after another Gantz, 55 years old, married to Revital and father of four, was a soldier and a commander all his adult life. He began in the Paratroopers Brigade, was a company commander in the First Lebanon

War, participated as a commander of the Shaldag elite unit in operations to bring the Ethiopian Jews to Israel, and later was commander of the Paratroopers Brigade the characteristic sequence of positions for IDF senior field commanders that leads to the position of Chief of Staff. We read his interviews of farewell from the IDF and saw that after he announced his retirement in November 2010, it was decided to appoint Yoav Galant as Chief of Staff. After that appointment was cancelled, Gantz was appointed to the position in February 2011. The events that have occurred since that time justify new interviews. Operation Protective Edge was completed

During the Bar Mitzvah event I experienced strong emotional impacts. I saw how despite the difficulties, IDFWO succeeded in observing with these children the important processes of empowerment and reinforcement

Since the end of the war in the summer of 2014, the Chief of Staff visits the families of the 67 fallen IDF soldiers - a long and difficult journey. “The bereaved widows, orphans, parents, and friends from Protective Edge whom I meet,” he says, “feel pain, frustration and also anger at times. Along the way I meet families with different numerators and one clear common denominator - an understanding for what and why we fought. Our fallen did not think that this war was in vain. We know that, because before they fell they spoke and wrote to the families words to that effect. These meetings, despite their complexity, are sometimes the better part of my day,” he says. His words imply a feeling of relief that the war that broke out “on his watch” was not controversial. Despite difficult events, mishaps, criticism of the IDF and the situation in the region surrounding Gaza, the atmosphere during the fighting does not compare with the days of the Second Lebanon War. “This was a justified war,” he says. He also tells about a visit in the home of the family of Bensian [Danny] Kasahon who was killed in a battle with terrorists near Nir Am and left a pregnant wife and three children. “This is a very emotional and painful circle. Danny immigrated to Israel from Ethiopia in ‘Operation Solomon’ in which I participated as the Shaldag commander 23 years ago, and ever since I have strong feelings towards the Ethiopians. Danny’s story is the essence of Zionism.”

Understanding the pain 4 months ago. The Chief of Staff tells us about the painful reports he received during the days of the fighting: notes containing preliminary information about battles and their difficult results, notes flowing in with names some of which he knew. “There is the note about the fallen and seriously injured Golani commanders in Sajaiya; the note about Dolev Keidar and his men from Officers Training Base 1; a notification about five, and another about 3, and the notification concerning the “pillbox” (guard post). It is impossible to let go of the main activity, and incorrect to delve deep into the human significance of each such notification at the moment it is re-

ceived, because otherwise it is impossible to function,” he says. On the morning of August 1 the Chief of Staff received the report that he defines as “the most difficult event.” Hadar Goldin, an officer in the Givati force that encountered terrorists in Rafiach was kidnapped. “We understood very quickly that Tzur, Hadar’s twin brother, was fighting in the vicinity with his Paratrooper unit and already on the way to help the forces that were taking care of the kidnapping. I gave an order to stop them and first of all to find Tzur, take him out of the fighting right away, and have him meet his mother who would immediately hear about the kidnapping of her other son.”

These are moments in the conversation that call for bombastic statements, lest someone think that the speaker does not stand behind his words, or does not feel and say what he has to feel and say at such moments. Not Gantz. He does not try to strengthen in the ears of his listeners the validity and powerfulness of his feelings and thoughts. He does not try to impress. He sends a message of security in his own way and suffices with few words while others might resort to ineffective speeches and slogans. “When facing bereavement, I am modest,” he says, “my commander and friend Yaya, (General (Res.) Yoram Yair), who lost his daughter Shlomit in an army aircraft accident, said that despite the bereavement with which he coped many

times as a commander, he never really understood what it is, until he experienced it himself. I also know that I cannot really put myself in the place of the bereaved families.” He says that on the day that his first son, Nadav, was born he became “a better commander.” To illustrate this emotional and somewhat complex matter, Gantz chooses a small moment from the muddy and dusty world of the fighters: “I was in an exercise in the Golan Heights during a brigadiers commander course and we sat down to wait for lunch. The company sergeant major who was supposed to bring the food was late, as it happened, happens and will happen hundreds of times. That’s how it is sometimes. We were already hungry and in those moments, while I was sitting on a rock in the middle of a training fire zone, I thought about my son, Nadav. In a few more years he will sit, tired at the end of an exercise, and will wait for food. All of us, the officers in service, became parents during the years. The small children became soldiers themselves and the challenges we coped with changed accordingly.”On June 9, 1982 Gantz celebrated his 23rd birthday. Two days later he lost his close friend, Umi (Nachum) Goldberg, who was killed while serving as a reserve company commander in the First Lebanon War. Since then, others have been killed but Umi is different. “We were not together when he was killed. He is the personal friend who I lost. He left his wife Avigail, his sister Ronit and his parents. I will always continue to be the commander of those I lost, but with Umi it is a different sort of pain. It was something more personal.” After speaking about Umi, and after he hesitates to speak about one fallen soldier in order not to hurt the families of the others, the dam broke and the names come one after another, encounter after encounter: “I met Yonatan Barness before he was recruited because he had a friend who was killed when I was commander of the explosives unit. Yonatan was my substitute communications specialist in the encounter in the Ramim hills when I was Paratrooper Battalion 890 commander. Only after we finished the assault and killed the terrorists did I see that Yonatan was wounded. He died afterwards in the hospital. He wasn’t even the regular communications

specialist. He so much wanted to participate and simply jumped on the jeep when he found out about the infiltration. Tomer Ron was the son of Daphna from Moledet She was a member of my garin, [and began her army service when I did]. We had not been in contact for many long years, until one day she called and told me that her son who was in a pilot’s course received a package from a boy named Nadav Gantz. We

I sleep at night, but I don’t sleep well

laughed. After Tomer was dismissed from the pilot’s course, Daphna called again to consult with me about whether it was good for him to transfer to an elite unit of the Nahal brigade. I said to her, ‘It sounds excellent.’ The next time we met was at his funeral. He was killed from terrorist fire in Hebron in 2003.”

A few words of thanks One evening over a year ago, the Chief of Staff left a bar-mitzvah event sponsored by the IDF Widows and Orphans Organization at the Jerusalem Theater. While still in the stairway he asked his people to transmit a letter that evening to the Chairwoman of the organization. The letter begins with the sort of combined professional-personal style of its sender. “Re: A few words of thanks,” it says. “I did not mention it on stage, but as always - the bar and bat mitzvah ceremony that you organize for the children of our friends who have fallen, is among the more exciting and im-

portant ones. I would like to thank you and all the members of the organization who are active all year long in accompanying the bereaved families. I find that the IDF Widows and Orphans Organization not only assists with overcoming longings of the past and difficulties of the present but it also protects and develops the resilience and the strength that guarantee the future. I left an important strategic meeting in order to come to the ceremony, and I am very glad that I did so. And in short. many thanks!” “Why was it so urgent to send the letter? You have already attended such events,” Nava asks the Chief of Staff a year later. “I experienced strong emotional impacts there. I saw how despite the difficulties, people succeed in observing with these children the important processes of empowerment and reinforcement. It’s not in place of anything else, and does not erase the loss and the pain, but it gives them something. This is important. The only thing that we can do for the widows and orphans is to help them to choose life. Just give them the possibility and the strength to choose.” We didn’t ask him the question, “So, then are we going to see you in politics?” Gantz is not among those types of people whom we would wish them “politics” in its ostentatious and superficial sense. For our own selves we would wish him the most senior leadership. In the end, we talk about the day after. The hours, the days, the weeks and the months that will follow the change of command ceremony on February 16. He talks about his partially fulfilled love of motorcycles, preferably Harley-Davidson, and about his father Nachum who did not like the idea of two wheels. The father apparently thought that the dangers of military service are more than enough. “We spoke about this dream of mine more than once and my father would say to me, ‘You will have a motorcycle license, over my dead body’,” the Chief of Staff says with a knowing smile. “That’s how it really was. After several years I got a license and went to my father’s grave to show it to him. He would have liked that gesture.” The motorcycle and extended travel are the dream for the days after the army service. “Open roads, Harley-Davidson, and to ride on and on.”

Fulfilling his p Iddo Ben David, Lidor Fachima and Sagi Farchi helping the Beynisian family fix up their garden. Photos: Koby Koenkas

s promise Kasahon, Z”L, had promised his wife that when he returns from Operation Protective Edge he would fix up their garden at home. Three young IDF orphans took upon themselves to fulfill his promise.

Zur Thon

The Beynisian family was about to leave for vacation in Tiberias when they received notice that the head of the family was needed on the battlefield. Kasahon (Danny), an experienced and highly-valued Sergeant Major, who served as a scout for 25 years, did not hesitate even though it would have been possible to find a replacement. He hurried to report to the army alongside his friends. Several days later he was killed. His family remained alone with shattered dreams and empty hopes. “My husband spoke about fixing up the garden as soon as he would have a little time. Unfortunately, he will no longer have that time,” says his widow, Galiato, who was left with four small children. One look at the dried-up garden outside the home in Netivot tells the story. After she lost her husband, her living conditions changed. The difficulties of everyday life don’t allow her to do what has now become a luxury. The IDF Widows and Orphans Organization (IDFWO) took on the initiative. On a wintry morning, Sagi, Lidor, and Iddo, who are three IDF orphans under the age of 15, came to the house determined and prepared to take action. They were joined by IDFWO staff members and professionals that volunteered their services. The purpose was to completely establish a new and beautiful garden, including plants and decorations, all in one day. Even those who usually wear tailored clothing were willing to roll up their sleeves and give a hand, to what would quickly transform from a day of gardening to a day of friendship and partnership. “When they called me, I immediately thought that I wanted to do this – to give to others. I hadn’t ever had the opportunity to do anything similar in the past. It was

the first time that I was even in Netivot,” explains Sagi Farhi. He is the son of Lior (David) Farhi, Security Officer of the community of Shaarei Tikva, who in 2012 was run over and killed in an attack. “Despite everything that the family went through, we succeeded in creating some good feeling of something new here.” The young people and the adults worked shoulder to shoulder, against the clock. No one thought about anything except the desire to bring happiness to the family and to encourage them. The children were running around. The unusual noise and commotion caused great excitement. “They were happy not to go to school today,” said Galiato with a smile. The baby, Tal Or, was in a playpen near the threshold of the front door. Galiato was pregnant with her when the tragedy occurred. Ten days later she gave birth. Outside, the event was well under way, led by the young girl, Hayut, The meaning of her name in Amharic is life – and just as her name, she is energetic, full of life and laughter, and charming. She enjoyed the attention and wondered when the television would come to take pictures. She was already prepared. Afterwards, in a moment of openness, Hayut spoke about her longings for her father, “I remember his shy smile. I saw that he really loved me, and would take care of me. He would let us ride “piggyback” on the way to school, would buy us things without our asking for them.” Hayut asked me to go with her to the clothes closet in her parents’ bedroom. Nonchalantly resting on one of the shelves were two new shirts, together with the tag. Hayut and her siblings purchased them for their father, with their own money, on the day that he was killed. One shirt was for going out, and the other one for the running that he loved so much. “We called him to tell him, and he didn’t answer. The thought crossed my mind that something happened to him, but I said to myself that it just can’t be so. But then mother told us that he would not come back anymore. Since then, the shirts are in the closet.” Slowly, the garden began taking shape, as if it was dressing up in fancy clothing. Lidor Fahima lost his father, Meir, in a terrorist attack near Afula 13 years ago. He explained, “At first it was a little unpleasant. The relatives were shy at first, just as

Nava Shoham Solan with widow Galiato and her daughter Tal Or, born 10 days after the tragedy occurred

Today I felt that my children are not alone. What happened here today is an important message for me, a message of unity

be a lot easier for them, almost everything is ready. The grass is already in place and just needs to be pressed down some more. Everything else is all set. We even built a fence. Before we began working, I first looked at the children and Galiato standing together. Immediately I felt the feeling I had after my own loss, when we stood together with my mother. It reminded me of our ‘being together’. I saw how she hugged them and it was very emotional for me. The little girl asked the three of us how our own fathers were killed. I didn’t expect a girl of her age to ask such a question. When I was her age it was terribly difficult for me. I was aggressive, and it opened up only a year or two afterwards. Eliniv, the oldest, reminds me of myself. This is an amazing family.

The young people and the adults worked shoulder to shoulder, against the clock. No one thought about anything except the desire to bring happiness to the family

we were, but there was a lot of happiness in our hearts. These are new orphans and I did not want to remind them of what happened. But then, Eliniv, the oldest, asked me what happened to my father and that broke the ice. This is the first time for me doing a job like this and it is really enjoyable to cooperate for the sake of such a purpose. I think that we did something important and we are also very satisfied with how it looks.” At the end of an exhausting day, the result was very clear. The home of Galiato, Eliniv, Hayut, Or Paz, and Tal Or included

a garden that they can be proud of. Iddo Ben-David is the third IDF orphan who joined the special project. He lost his father in 2006 during the Second Lebanon War, in a katyusha rocket attack in Kibbutz Kfar Giladi. Iddo summarized the experience of preparing the garden, “When we got here I saw there was a lot to do. The garden had not been kept up, and needed immediate attention. Galiato does not have time to take care of the garden. Her husband had promised that when he would return from Protective Edge he would take care of it, but what happened, happened. Now it will

You see that Galiato does an excellent job. She said that it is difficult for her but she manages. I said that I know exactly what she is talking about. It doesn’t become easier, though it perhaps becomes clearer. It is a very good feeling to know that you are helping someone who needs it. If I have the chance, I will go back there. I will be glad to remain in contact with them.” At the end of the day Galiato said, “Today I felt that my children are not alone. What happened here today is an important message for me, a message of unity. It is also the first time for them to meet other orphans. Up until today, they were familiar with it only from stories.”

From Pain to Strength OTZMA Camps

IDFWO Annual Widows Retreat A relaxing vacation on the beach or the poolside is always a fun time for couples to take a break from life, spend time together, and reenergize their strengths. Many IDF widows do not jump at the chance of taking a vacation as they will not get to lounge around and relax with their loved ones, but rather be reminded once again that they are alone. Even if they did want to take a break as single mothers they do not have the time, or the funds to do so. Every year IDF Widows and Orphans Organization subsidize hundreds of such

vacations and retreats for widows. This allows them to financially be able to go on a vacation and more importantly it gives them a sense of togetherness as they take a break - together - from the hustle and bustle of routine life that is accompanied by the constant sense of loss. Thanks to this wonderful project our women can enjoy peace and quiet with other widows like them, that know the pain of grief. This year, over 600 widows spent 5 days at the Dead Sea.

For every Pesach, Sukkot and Hanukkah, IDFWO takes hundreds of our children to OTZMA (STRENGHTH) camps around Israel. In the camps the orphans learn that they are not alone and that WE are here for them, remembering and honoring their ultimate sacrifice. We are extremely thankful to everyone helping make the camps such a huge success.

Thanks IDFWO Canada FIDF Fuel for Truth NY Memorial Fund of Dr. Sarah & Dr. Max Graph Heseg Foundation Siona France The Jewish Center Manhattan, NY

IDFWO scholarship & wedding gift event 129 IDF orphans received scholarships for higher education and 57 newly married couples received wedding gifts at the event that took place on March 9th. Attended IDFWO Chairwoman Nava Shoham-Solan, Deputy CEO of MOD Aryeh Mualem, commander of Manpower Directorate Major General Hagi Topolansky, Police Major General Gila Gaziel, our distinguished donors and last but not least our wonderful students and couples. We thank all of you for embracing our sons and daughters at these important times of their lives.

Sponsor an orphan university scholarship $1,500 widow retreat $500 your own camper $500

Purim Picnic Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve had an amazing Purim Picnic at Park Haâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Yarkon in Tel Aviv Thanks to our supporters around the world. It was a perfect sunny day at the park, filled with laughter, fun and the warmth of a big hug that tens of IDF bereaved families felt during the Holiday!

Yarden Benzur

A wedding day is one of the most special days of our lives. For IDF orphans, it is a bitter sweet one, as they have to celebrate it without a father. Up until the day before the wedding, Hila Masraty did not know who would accompany her, together with her mother, on the emotional walk to the wedding canopy. “I wanted something more modern, perhaps without anyone at my side, in order to avoid this question; but it was important to Assaf’s parents,” she says. “I didn’t know what to do, since I only have my mother. Finally, the day before the wedding, I asked my uncle to accompany me.” Hila Masraty, 24, is an accounting student at the College of Management. This year she married Assaf, who is in a restaurant business, whom she has known for years. They met when Hila used to babysit for his younger brother. Today they live in a

Shalom Fabriker, son of Aharon Fabriker, on his wedding day

small apartment in Holon. Hila Masraty is an IDF orphan whose father, David, was killed in an attack on bus number 461 when he was on his way to military reserve duty. He was 32 years old. The young couple’s marriage took place last summer in the shadows of the explosions during Operation Protective Edge. “It was at an extremely pressured time, exactly during the ceasefire that was later violated,” she explains. “Although we were concerned, our guests attended. It was already the end of the military operation, and everyone so much wanted it to end. Of course it’s not fun to celebrate when people are fighting, and that overshadowed the joy. My cousin was involved in the military activity and he couldn’t come to the wedding.”

Hila Masraty was three years old when her father was killed, so that she doesn’t have real memories of him. “Assaf is a little older than I am. He is approximately the age my father was when my father got married, and I keep thinking that he is the age my father was when he was killed, and how much my father managed to do during his lifetime,” she says. “The more that I come closer to them in age, to the age in which it happened, I compare myself to my parents. My mother was approximately my age and I try to think what I would do in her place, how I would act in that situation.” Shalom Fabriker, 27, was married this year to Hila, after having gone out together for six years. He also asked his uncle to be with him on this occasion. “My mother cried al-

Photos: Dudu Koren. Tamir Noy

Hila Masraty, daughter of David Masraty, on her wedding day

most throughout the entire wedding ceremony, out of such intense emotion, he says. “In general there was a lot of crying at the wedding, out of joy of course. I think that the fact that I am an orphan increased the emotions.” In order to propose marriage to his beloved, Shalom Fabriker knelt down at one of the cliffs at Rosh Hanikra. “We were at a vacation cabin in the Golan Heights from Thursday until Saturday, and we pretty much felt that I would propose to her. So on Thursday evening I bought her earrings in a box and asked the cabin owners to place the box with a bottle of wine on her pillow,” he laughs. “I said to her that it is not a ring but she still expected one, and when she opened it and saw only earrings, she said, ‘If not now, then when?’ The next day we travelled to Rosh Hanikra, and

I didn’t know what to do, since I only have my mother. Finally, the day before the wedding, I asked my uncle to accompany me I proposed to her there. She is afraid of heights but from all the excitement, she forgot about it.” Shalom Fabriker’s father, Aharon, was a career soldier who at the age of 33 was killed in an accident on his way to his base. Shalom Fabriker was six years old when his father was killed. Despite the fact that he was missing, his father was a significant person in his education. “A six-yearold boy has lots of memories, and my big brother Kfir also passed on to me a lot of my father’s views,” he explains. “Since he was older, they had more in-depth conversations, and over the years Kfir explained this to me. The image of our father shaped our personalities, for example – to reach achievements and not to give up. With this education, Kfir became the Israeli champion in karate and instilled in the entire family the desire for accomplishment that came from our father. I behaved according to what I knew that my father would want. For example, my father was against smoking and tattoos, and at a young age Kfir told me so.” Noam Mualem, 23, is the daughter of Lieutenant Colonel Moshe Mualem, the most senior officer who in 1997 was killed at the age of 32 in the tragedy of the helicopters. Noam was five and a half years old at the time. Her mother is the Knesset Member, Shuli Mualem. “Certainly the loss of my father is felt more at moments like these, even if it’s not always at the forefront of our thoughts. The loss always occupies

us and at moments like these it becomes stronger,” she says. “It’s not supposed to be that way, that I enter the wedding canopy without my father.” Through friends of her parents she met her spouse, Yonatan, who in her words is “wonderful and dear.” They both study economics and accounting at The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and rent an apartment in the Rehavia neighborhood. She is in her third year of studies. Yonatan, who some time ago completed his military service in an elite unit of the Givati Brigade, has begun his first year of school. “We haven’t yet succeeded in being a boring couple of accountants,” she laughs. “We have hobbies. I dance and he plays soccer, so that we have plenty to talk about besides our studies.” The three of them have participated in the IDFWO activities over the years. Noam Mualem and Hila Masraty were also

counselors in the Otzma Camps that are offered to young IDF and security forces orphans. “Otzma is one of the good things that happened to me in life,” says Noam Mualem. “I love my campers. It’s something amazing that happens, which I didn’t have when I was in high school and it’s a great loss. The very fact that you belong to a group that is exactly like you, without really having to talk about it, is extremely significant. Things flow by themselves. It’s a kind of support group that is not formally defined, and in that way things come up.” Does the fact that you went through a similar experience make it easier for you to be their counselor? Noam Mualem: “I don’t feel that it is simpler to be a counselor because of the bereavement but I can say that counselors, who are not IDF orphans, may feel the gap. Perhaps the starting point for communi-

cating with the campers is different. I don’t have the barrier, the question that goes through the mind of someone who didn’t experience bereavement, of how I will approach someone and how I will ask.” Hila Masraty: “It is significant that I also went through the experience of bereavement – in dark humor, in certain situations that I understand, in conversations among them that remind me of things I have forgotten. I remember moments from the summer camp that we had in Olga when we were little. At that time I met a lot of people who had experienced bereavement and were in my situation. When I compare those conversations to the conversations among them, it’s a similar experience. Of course there’s a difference between losing a father at a very young age and losing him at an age when you have shared experiences and remember him, but from the perspec-

tive of the loss, it is pretty much the same.” Shalom Fabriker also remembers the summer camp in Olga as a significant experience. “Every year we were at Olga, the children and the families would divide into age groups and for more or less than a week you would hardly see your mother. First of all you would connect with other people, become more independent. This was a significant experience. At the age of 13 I participated in a bar-mitzvah trip to Canada. For a month we had incredible fun. I wish I could have gone back there as a counselor afterwards. My brother Kfir did. That’s the greatest experience for a child – a month without the family.” All three of them received academic scholarships from the IDFWO, and they will soon receive a gift in honor of their marriages. Like many young people, at their age they also struggle with financial burden, fantasize purchasing an apartment that seems like an impossible task, and in the meantime concentrate on impressive juggling between studies and

work. . “It is a symbolic amount,” says Hila Masraty about the wedding gift, “but the very fact that people are thinking about you and are actually accompanying you until the moment that you have grown and are already an independent person – this is important. It’s wonderful to know that there is such an organization that tries to

It’s not supposed to be that way, that I enter the Chuppah without my father fill what is missing in a symbolic way.“ ”I can’t work because my study schedule is really intensive, 5 days a week from morning until night,” says Noam Mualem. “Up until now I had been living with my parents, so it saved me a lot of expenses. And

we hope to buy a home at some stage of our lives. It really helps. Less mortgage, less obligations.” “I can’t explain to you how much the academic scholarship let’s you breathe while studying for a first degree. It gives you the peace of mind to concentrate on studies without worrying about how to pay for them,” says Shalom Fabriker, “and I was in a pre-military academic program that pays eighty percent. Yet nevertheless the cost of living is also expensive. The scholarship supports and assists as does the wedding gift. You know that you can achieve your dreams. I personally did not overdo it with the wedding, but even without overdoing it, you end up with huge expenses. You know that you have someone to rely upon, that you are not alone. This is very meaningful. This is the assistance given by the IDFWO. Afterwards you can save for an apartment which is very difficult to do today, and this gives you the small step to begin to save, to start out with something.”

Widow Galiato, lost her husband Sergeant Major Kasahon in Operation Protective Edge, was left with four small children

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