new Einstein get caught in the barbed wire of Iraq al-Manshiyya or Beit Affa?
The parents of the man in the next bed are probably sleeping soundly, unaware that their son is grappling with death. Nobody has told them. Otherwise they would have been here the day after he was wounded, stared at him, and sobbed in the corridor outside. Parents cry when their son is on his deathbed. But then it is usually too late. His fate was already decided when he was still healthy and cheerful.
Maybe there is a sealed envelope at my neighbor’s unit, with his handwriting on it: "Please forward in the case of my death." Some leave such letters before they go into action. Most of us do not. What’s the use? Letters like that are ridiculous and melodramatic. It is embarrassing. What on earth can you write? "Dear parents, if you receive this letter, I am no longer living..." Idiotic. What can you tell your parents? "I apologize for all the worries that I have caused you ..." or "... I hope that we will meet again in a better world ..." Nobody believes that there is such a "better world." You could finish like a Zionistic obituary with "the construction of the motherland will be a consolation to you."
But we were too superstitious. We simply knew that writing such a letter opens the door to the devil, and you will die in the next battle. We have seen it happen.
Dany died six hours after he handed in his farewell letter. Is that pure imagination? You sit there and write this letter as if you are already dead. When you think that way, you won’t have the energy you need to survive in battle. You become timid. And the timid are the first to die, it is well known.
Many say that a soldier can "feel" the approach of death. Dany also felt it and made a great fuss about taking part in this operation. Of course that is nonsense. It may well happen that a soldier has a bad feel-ing before an operation, without being timid. But the reason is lack of sleep or poor nutrition. One night I, too, felt that I was going to die. Because I hadn’t slept for thirty-six hours. But it so happened that we lost our way that night and didn’t run into any Egyptian units. On the other hand I had no such "feelings" on the day I was wounded. I set off on that patrol like someone who is going to the toilet or to a roll call - an unpleasant but in no way unusual duty.