Zev Chanoch (Jabo) Ehrlich a"h,the oldest military casualty of the current war
IT was the beginning of the summer, and I was granted permission to accompany Battalion 910 on a nighttime cleanup raid of Beit Ummar, a Hamas hotbed right in the middle of Gush Etzion near the yishuv of Carmei Tzur, about halfway between Efrat and Hevron. The soldiers were tasked with finding weapons and explosives, arresting wanted terrorists, and spotting and towing a few dozen “mashtubot” — slang for stolen cars that somehow make their way to every Arab village.
But after the military briefing, before the troops dispersed, there was one more person these soldiers would hear from — because, to quote Winston Churchill, a nation that forgets its past has no future.
Everyone fell silent.
From the side of the room, an older man wearing a yarmulke and army fatigues quickly made his way to the podium. Even from the back bench, where I was sitting together with the IDF spokesman, it was impossible to miss his intensity, as well as the sparkling eyes and ever-present smile underneath the thick, white trademark moustache.
“My dear friends,” he began, and then launched into something reminiscent of a shiur klali, imparting practical knowledge and spiritual treasures to the soldiers. He knew everything — history, geography, topography, anything that a soldier needed to know before going out to fight for the security of the Holy Land.
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