Tuvia Brodie: War--and the reminder of, never again!

(Last update: May 6, 2019)

If you live outside Israel, you will say that Israel is not at this moment at war (this moment is 5:40 pm local time, Israel, Sunday, May 5, 2019). After all, you will say, no one in Israel has declared war.

Yes, Hamas to the south of Israel is and has been firing rockets from Gaza into Israel steadily since yesterday, Shabbat morning, May 4, 2019--and yes, Israel has been responding. But, you will say, Israel is not 'at war'.

At this moment--5:40 pm Sunday, May 5, 2019 local time in Israel--no official has used the ''w" word. Officially, there is no war in Israel.

But unofficially, well, that's a different story. Unofficially, life here looks, acts and sounds exactly like we are at war.

We are engulfed by war. We are surrounded by war.

Sirens go off. Phone apps that give a siren-like rocket alert for any rocket fired into Israel have been sounding all day. More significant, life now beats to a very different tune. Life beats along to a war beat, not an it's-just-another-quiet-day beat.

People's thought-processes change.Take my youngest daughter, for example. She works for a man who believes he could be called up at any minute. Literally.

The dawning reality of his potential call-up would change everyone's schedule who works for him. It would cause my daughter to assume more responsibilities. Her hours would change. Her daily life activities would have to change to accommodate the new hours. The pressures she'd experience would change.

She's engaged to marry a man who has served in the IDF. He, too, could be called up.

His call-up could change their lives. It would certainly disrupt their lives.

My daughter isn't the only person personally affected by the possibility of war. Everyone here knows someone who faces these same concerns.

Because of these concerns, everyone in shul (synagogue) this morning began to say a special prayer. We seek protection. We need protection. Our neighbors need protection. Our friends need protection. Our children in our army need protection.

Earlier today, a Jewish father of four in a Southern town near Gaza walked out of his house for a breath of fresh air. A rocket killed him. Just like that.

His family has now been changed forever.

Just minutes ago, a news item flashed onto the news: a Israeli civilian car-victim of a Hamas-fired anti-tank missile has succumbed to his wounds.

We are at war.

We are a small country. Very small. That means we are all family. When a man in the South dies, we all mourn.

For Jewish civilians living in the southern tier of Israel, war is no abstract concept. It is real. It is now. This very minute:

17:49

Missile alert in Gaza envelope

Another missile alert. Jews living in Southern Israel are under constant rocket attack. More than 600 rockets have already been fired at them in app the last 24 hours (here). For many, the only safe place is their bomb shelter.

Bomb shelters are small. They fill up quickly with people.

But this is where Jews in our South must now live, eat and sleep on the floor; for many, this one-room window-less environment has become their entire living space.

Try doing that with young children while sirens sound through both day and night, explosions punctuating both the darkness at night and the unseen outside sunlight during the day.

These Jews are at war with an enemy who swears to kill them. For these Jews, a siren's wail means maybe--maybe--ten seconds lead-time to get into a shelter. These ten seconds is all they have to gather up the little ones, grab the puppy and get back to protection.

It's not a lot of time. It's only ten seconds. But for many, it spells the difference between life and death.

If you live outside Israel, you will say Israel is not at war, at least not at this hour. But this is what life is like here in Israel , right now:

Here's a news feed from the past two hours . It's a word picture of what an unfolding war against a civilian population looks like: