War Heros a dime a dozen

This week my husband and I went to Tiberias to pay our rent. Our landlord is a third generation Israeli whose great grandfather immigrated from Argentina. Our landlord owns an Argentine resturaunt. We've rented from this man for more than 4 years. Each month we go into the back room which looks like something out of a mafia movie, to pay our rent. Each time he is hospitable and friendly. This time, as always, our landlord greeted us, gave us drinks, and asked about our well-being. He asked how is our son in the army. I told him that the recent act of defense in the news; the killing of a criminal Palestinian, was done by my son's unit. He began to share war stories with us.

He told us that he'd served in three wars! in one of those wars, his was one of only seven tanks to survive out of over 40! He told us of many miracles he'd seen being in the wars, and how his sons and nephews now all serve. One recently surviving the Gaza war. He told us about one family member who is "crazy" because of the intense training. That of 300 men, only a handful are still mentally capable of regular life. They are so programmed that normal life isn't possible. Now as he told us all of this, his tone was much like talking about the weather. It wasn't extraordinary to him. It is real life. Normal life.

I've often noticed as I adapt to this new culture and people, that there is a hardness on the outside but a softness on the inside. The constant death and threat of death causes somewhat of a coarseness. Seemingly desensitized to life on the surface, but deeply sincerely compassionate to the core.

Our clothes washer broke recently and the repair man came to diagnose the problem. We also had a similar conversation. He told me of his service in the army, and his son who is now due in two weeks to also serve. He told me that he was in Miluiim during the Gush Katif evacuation. (Miluiim is reserve service required of every Israeli man for one month a year until they are old). He told me that he'd refused orders to expell Jews from their homes, from Jewish land. That instead he was sent to prison. I jokingly said, "well at least the food is better there." I also went on to tell him he was a hero, and that my son also would never "dismantle settlements" and I was proud of that. I imagine that many many more war heros in Israel go unnoticed. I am proud of them all. Most of all, I am proud of my son, who works hard to protect this country every night and every day.