people around were moved - a mother and her son from the front. And tomorrow or the next day she will hear "Fallen in the battle to open the road to the Negev, the company commander Menachem Brotzki..."
In the darkest hours, as the invading enemy tried to advance into the heart of the State of Israel from all directions, the defense army• had only one thing to oppose the enemy’s superior weapons - the human being.
And the human being stood firm. He knew that he was standing with his back to the wall. He knew that there was no area to withdraw into. He knew that his home, bombarded day and night by the Egyptians, was in danger. They were no "heroes. " They were simple youths who took the fighting spirit of the real people’s army to the limit of its possibilities. In this society of fighters they could do nothing less.
Battalion HQ
A man and his weapon
Elisha was the curse of the company. If complaining and moaning is an art, then the whole army couldn’t offer an artist to compare with him. If the order came to turn out for an exercise, then he would curse the commanders who had no concern for human life. If he was allowed to take it easy the whole day, then he cursed those who send men into battle without enough training.
A professional moaner like that can make your life into hell. Even without that, it is hard enough. The food is not the best. And nobody really enjoys being under fire. If all that is hard enough to bear, even if one jokes about it, it becomes completely intolerable if comrades complain and pull a sour face.
Elisha arrived here recently from Poland, and thinks that even here he is being pursued and oppressed by everybody. He always thinks he has had a raw deal - whether it is the distribution of cigarettes or the rota for guard duty.
No, Elisha was not born to be a soldier. On the return from Latrun, after three hours under artillery bombardment, Elisha was next to me in the rearguard. Our comrades were carrying a wounded man, whose chest had been opened up by a piece of shrapnel. He was