A Candle Against Hamas’ Darkness

Photo Credit: courtesy

I stood where he stood, trying to imagine what it was like. How he made the decisions he made. How he felt.

I couldn’t.

Aner Shapira deliberately placed himself between the murderous terrorists outside and some 30 people, friends, and strangers. Knowingly, mindfully, he chose to be their shield against death.

How do you make a choice like that?

Aner Shapira, along with his friend Hersh Goldberg-Polin, attended the Nova Music Festival. A fighter in the Nahal reconnaissance unit on leave, Aner loved music and simply wanted to enjoy himself – like so many others.

The Hamas invasion began under the cover of a missile bombardment. The Nova festival was a rave, outside and with no place to take cover from missiles, let alone a hoard of blood thirsty murderers. Aner, Hersh and others left the festival site and took cover in a “migunit,” a mini-shelter set up in places where it’s not possible to reach a bomb shelter in the 15 seconds between when missiles are launched from Gaza and they slam into Israeli border communities.

The tiny shelter, not much larger than the bus stop next to it, wasn’t designed to protect people from terrorists with machine guns, RPGs, and grenades.

When he understood what was happening Aner placed himself at the entrance of the shelter, pushing everyone else behind him. Those that survived reported that he told them what he was going to do and how to continue if he would be killed.

One of the people huddled behind him took a photo in case no one would survive to tell the story.

This is what heroism looks like.

A car camera on a vehicle stopped outside the shelter continued to record, giving a full picture of what happened.

A terrorist throws a grenade into the shelter. He expects it to or at least wound everyone inside.

Aner, with his bare hands, threw it back.

Seven times.

The terrorist threw another grenade. Aner picked it up with his bare hands in the few seconds before it exploded – and threw it back at the terrorists.

Seven times.

The eighth was one time too many.

Aner was killed. Hersh’s arm was blown off and he was taken hostage along with a few others the terrorists saw were still alive.

Most of the others inside exploded. Literally. Those who survived did so lying under pieces of other people’s bodies for hours, themselves wounded, not knowing if the noises they heard outside were the terrorists coming back to finish them off or Israelis coming to rescue them.

It took five hours before rescue came. Everyone who was more than lightly injured bled to death.

Zaka volunteers, trying to bring every Jew to proper burial removed the human remains, cleaned up the blood and other fluids (I’ve seen the video of people entering the shelter after the attack which I will not share here). The shelter has been whitewashed but the bullet holes and signs of the grenades remain.

Note the date on the sticker Zaka put on the outside of the shelter, notifying that it is clear and clean – November 19^th.

It is very difficult to step into a space where so many people lay in utter terror, wounded and dying.

The shelter is empty yet full. Sanctified by blood and heroism. Horror and awe. The ability to love others more than you love yourself.

Many of the family and friends of those murdered here have come, lit candles and written things on the walls – letters to those they loved who are no longer here, messages of strength and support for the nation and an extraordinary poem honoring Aner.

Written in red, in small letters near the floor, this poem tells the breathtaking story of Aner’s heroism. Something so huge, so moving should perhaps be someplace less modest – and yet, perhaps it’s in the most appropriate place, next to the signs of the shrapnel, by the door where he stood.

The Hebrew poem is more layered and rich in meaning than my translation can convey but everything about this story is deeper than words. Like Aner himself.

Aner is an unusual name. It sounds like the Hebrew word for “the candle”, ha-ner. It turns out that Aner is a name from the bible of someone who was an ally of Abraham. The name is associated with being connected to our historic roots, true friendship and aspiring for justice.

How fitting.

{Reposted from the author’s blog}