Today, there was a terror attack, similar in so many ways to the one I lived through. No, I wasn’t there, and like today, Elie wasn’t there. He wasn’t…but he could have been…then and now.
Nine years ago, I was sitting in a restaurant in Eilat celebrating my anniversary with my husband when my phone beeped. The short version of the story was that my son’s unit had gone to Jerusalem to take part in the “slichot” (special prayers before the Jewish New Year) and on the way, a terrorist who was in a bad mood because his family decided he couldn’t date his cousin (I kid you not), decided to take out his anger by ramming his family’s reinforced BMW into a group of artillery soldiers – Elie’s unit.
Elie was not there, but he could have been. Elie was not hit, but 23 other soldiers were. Like today, the driver was bent on murder and attempted to put the car in reverse to run over (again) those that he’d plowed through.
Unlike today, many soldier’s in Elie’s unit quickly opened fire and the terrorist was killed within seconds. No soldier was hit again – all lived.
In that incident, when asked what happened, the commanding officer stood up and lied through his teeth. “I shot the terrorist,” he admitted.
Who fired? He was asked.
Me, he answered.
Who else? He was asked.
Me, he answered.
And so, by the conclusion of that incident, it was reported that the commander had fired and killed the terrorists – from about 17 different angles, simultaneously.
The body of the terrorist, riddled with dozens of bullets, was returned to his family. They even complained about the condition of the body. No one died in that attack…because no one ran.
The Chief of Staff and all the way down, stood up for the soldiers in Elie’s unit and the Palestinians backed down. There was no international tribunal – after all, the only one that died was the terrorist who had tried to kill the soldiers.
Late in the middle of the night, as the soldiers in Elie’s unit were returning to base, hours and hours after the attack, I spoke to Elie, only then learning it was the soldier’s from his unit. I listened, thanked him for calling, closed the phone and barely breathing, I picked up my computer and let myself out of the hotel room so as not to awaken my sleeping husband of 25 years.
I went down to the lobby and started to write. It’s what I do when I get upset. And the first thing I wrote was “It could have been Elie.” And then I started to cry. I cried as I typed, wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop.
Finally, the tears dried and I continued. People passed me sitting in the hotel lobby and asked if there was internet; the guard came over and asked if I was okay. On and on, I answered questions as if nothing had happened but inside I was screaming.
It could have been Elie – nine years ago…and again today when he rode his bicycle down to our accountant, about 10 minutes from where the attack took place. An attack in which an Arab rammed his vehicle into a crowd of soldiers, as one did nine years ago.
An attack in which one soldier is seen running towards the attack, only to stop and turn back. And then dozens of others are seen running away while in the background you can see that the truck that rammed into the soldiers is reversing to try to hit the downed soldiers again. The terrorist tried that nine years ago and failed. Today, he succeeded. Nine years ago, the soldier stood and took a stand, defending their fallen comrades. Today, they ran.
As the horror of what happened today unfolds, I’m left with one thought.
Nine years ago, I believe Elie would have been one of the commanders who opened fire had he been there instead of the operation he was on in a nearby Arab village rather than with his unit in Jerusalem.
Today, I believe Elie would have been one of the ones who would have fired. Because he had commanding officers who stood in front of his men, not behind them, because he was taught that you fight to live, not run. He was taught that if you run, others could die. Today, others died.
And the reason they ran is clear to everyone. If it wasn’t clear, five ex-IDF chiefs wouldn’t have felt the need to try to come and protect their own. Frankly, their action disgusts me and as a mother, I would ask them why, instead of fighting for Gadi Eisenkot, they didn’t put the same effort into fighting for our children. They were attacked today – and they suffered.
And, if Gadi Eisenkot were to be believed, they are not our children. They are adults. For that alone, he should resign. So, shame on Eisenkot and shame on you five.