Varda had a premonition that something was going to happen to Daniel, and during her last phone conversation with him, which she had recorded and played at the funeral. She told him to be strong, and he answered, “over and out,” as though he had received an order to take care of himself. Varda said, “I knew the day would come when the harbingers of doom in uniform would knock on my door.” [The IDF does not send telegrams to inform families when loved ones fall during military service; it sends specially-trained officers in uniform]. I tried to distance myself from nightmares and anxiety, and I never told anyone how afraid I was.” Daniel, a Golani fighter, was killed in battle by a Hamas missile which took his life and the lives of his comrades in arms, defending Israel from Islamist terrorism.
Daniel left a letter for his family, Golani and his comrades in arms, in which he said that, “if you are reading this, it means I have finished my career, but at least I fought with honor and am happy. You can be certain that I am happy, it is important that you know that…” His funeral was unbearably sad, one of many I have attended of sons and daughters, young soldiers and officers I had never known or had known and would never see again. Every generation in Israel, where the earth is soaked with the blood of its bravest and best children, passes the torch of defense, saying “now it is your turn to guard the entire Jewish nation.”
As the earth falls on Daniel’s coffin, I think about the IDF’s ethic of heroism, sacrifice and moral weapons code our sons and daughters follow to build a strong, optimistic nation, determined to preserve democracy and human dignity. Hamas, I think as people begin to drift away from the service, is part of a global Islamist campaign to destroy the State of Israel, one step on its way to enforce its brand of radical Islam on the entire world. I think perhaps the task we have taken on ourselves, to be the ramparts that will keep the waves of Islamist terrorism from breaking on our shore, is perhaps too much for us to accomplish alone, and that if the rest of the world helps us we can keep the waves from breaking over their heads as well. But one way or the other, we will keep fighting for our right to exist as a secure homeland for the Jewish people, and send the message to the rest of the world that the effort is well-placed.
Daniel Pomerantz’s last letter:
“To my beloved family, I never thought I would be writing these words. I don’t know what to say because I said it all on the phone, so what can I add? Maybe this is for me. Maybe to give you something to hold on to. I want you to know that I am happy I was born into this family, I am happy I serve in Golani and that I did everything the best I could. If you are reading this, it means I have finished my career, but at least I fought with honor and am happy. You can be certain that I am happy, it is important that you know that.
“To my perfect brothers: no one is happier than I to have brothers like you and amazing parents like ours, who raised me and brought be to where I am today. There is no one like you, I have never lacked anything, I was always enveloped in warmth and love. To make it short, after all the regret, there is no one like you and I am happy, no matter what happens. Lots of love, Daniel Pomerantz, your little boy. With God’s help we will return unharmed and tell my soldiers that I love them.”