Yom HaZikaron

This period of Sefirat HaOmer is a time of counting. We count 50 days from Passover to Shavuot. Counting is a process of looking forward, of moving toward. Today is Yom HaAtzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day, which follows Israel’s Memorial Day commemorating those who have died defending the country and Am Yisrael.   

On this Yom HaZikaron and Yom HaAtzmaut, we are also counting. This year, we do not just commemorate past wars or celebrate the State of Israel as we do in other years—this year, we are still in the midst of the longest war Israel has ever fought. Soldiers are still falling, and hostages remain in captivity. Therefore, we are not only commemorating and celebrating, but counting. Counting the days, day by day, until there is an end to this war that is slowly chipping away at the resolve of a strong country, and counting the days, each day, toward the release of the hostages.   

We have all become too familiar with the practice of soldiers in Tzahal to write a letter that begins, “If you are reading this…” A letter to be delivered to their family if they are killed in war. Recently, Tzohar published a book of many of these and we have all seen some. Their words can inspire us and their profound bravery can enter our hearts and give us hope.   

Last night, I read the following two letters, from Israeli soldiers who fell in this war, to the full crowd which had gathered in shul for our community’s Yom HaZikaron commemoration and Yom HaAtzmaut celebration.  

This letter was written by Rabbi Elkana Vizel, a married father of four, who fell in central Gaza in one of the fiercest battles since the war started:  

“If you are reading these words, something must have happened to me. If I was kidnapped, I demand that no deal be made for the release of any terrorist to release me. Our overwhelming victory is more important than anything…

“Maybe I fell in battle. When a soldier falls in battle, it is sad, but I ask you to be happy. Don’t be sad when you part with me. Touch hearts, hold each other’s hands, and strengthen each other. We have so much to be proud and happy about. We are writing the most significant moments in the history of our nation and the entire world. … Look at your loved ones in the whites of their eyes and remind them that everything we go through in this life is worth it and we have something to live for. Don’t stop the power of life for a moment. I was already wounded in Operation Tzuk Eitan, but I do not regret that I returned to fight. This is the best decision I ever made.”

Another letter, written by 22-year-old Ben Zussman from Jerusalem, was left for his family with a friend:

“I am writing this message to you on the way to the base. If you are reading this, something must have happened to me. … I am happy and grateful for the privilege to defend our beautiful land and the people of Israel.

“Even if something happens to me, you don’t have my permission to sink into sadness. …

If, God forbid, you are sitting shiva over me, make it a week filled with friends, family, and fun. … Tell jokes, hear stories, meet my other friends you haven’t seen yet. …

“I’ll say it again—I left home without even being called up to the reserves. I’m full of pride and a sense of mission. I always said that if I need to die, halevai, it will happen while defending others and our country. ‘Jerusalem, I have appointed guardians’ [Yeshayahu 62:6]; may the day come that I will be one of them.”

May this Yom HaAtzmaut bring a swift end to the war and violence and freedom to the captives.