David Gordon z"l, we remember you

Today is Israel's Memorial Day. It is the Day all of Israel remembers soldiers who have lost their lives while in service to their country, Israel. To paraphrase something former US President Abraham Lincoln once said, these fallen are men and women who have given 'their last full measure of devotion' to their country. This is also the Day we remember Israeli civilians who have been murdered in terror attacks against Jews. 

This is "a day of collective and personal anguish mingled with honor for the fallen" (here). That is exactly what this day is--for so many families.

The number of Israeli soldiers who have died while in service since the founding of Israel now stands at 23,816. For Israel, this is not a small number. We all know such soldiers.

Since last memorial Day,75 soldiers have been killed, mostly from Palestinian terror attacks.In addition, three additional civilians this past year were murdered in terror attacks. The total of Israel's civilian terror victims has now risen to 3,153 (ibid), in addition to the 23,816 soldiers killed.

When my family and I first made aliyah in 2010, a neighbor told us that, in Israel, almost all Israeli families personally know of someone who has been killed in action or murdered by terror. This is a small country--very small. Such death is felt by all. It is keenly felt.

Our own, new-aliyah family also feels such pain. You see, in August, 2014, while the Hamas-Israel war still raged, an IDF 'lone soldier' (a soldier who serves in the IDF with no immediate family in Israel) by the name of Corporal David Menachem Gordon died (here). His death was--and for some, still is--a mystery. We miss him. We remember him. 

We go to his grave site. We visit him at least once a year at Israel's National memorial cemetery, Har Herzl. 

We didn't visit him this year because of the coronavirus pandemic. Virtually no one went to any National Memorial cemetery this year. There's a lockdown of all Memorial cemeteries, to keep people from 'mingling'. Very few of the bereaved families were allowed to visit their loved ones today (here). The lockdown just added to the pain one feels.

David was a family friend back in the USA before we made aliyah. At that time, he was in our city to go to our neighborhood Jewish Day school. He lived with relatives just down the street from us. That's how we got to know him.

He was in the same grade as one of my daughters. After both we and he had made aliyah, David kept in touch with that daughter, as young people often do after making aliyah.

We believe our family may have been the last 'old country' friends who saw him just before he died. We spent a Shabbat meal together, hosted by a neighbor here in Israel. 

We were very impressed by the David we saw. He had changed during his Army service. We could see that change. He was more mature. He was more self-confident. 

He had served in combat in Gaza just weeks before. I seem to remember that all he'd say about combat was that his combat had to do with 'sniping'. I remember someone at that Shabbat meal asking David if he--David--could talk about what he'd learned from his combat experience. His response was telling. Very telling.

First, he paused. He became thoughtful. You could see that thoughtfulness in his face--relaxed, looking inward. Then he said, 'you know, when you go into combat for the first time, you just don't know how you're going to react. You never know how you'll perform.' He paused again. Someone asked, 'and what did you learn?'

He responded, 'I learned that I'm a warrior".  

Several days later, we were informed he was dead. We were shocked. We were horrified. He had survived combat. Now he was dead? We couldn't understand.

We learned that David hadn't died in combat. The IDF had investigated. But even today, we're not entirely sure what were the results of that investigation. 

For us, who knew David, his death is still a shock. We still mourn for him him. We still remember him. 

Personally, I remember what David told us at that Shabbat meal. I also remember what his commanding officer said of him at the gravesite service for him at Har Herzl: during training, David was always challenging his officers. David was never satisfied with the training. He wanted more. When he got more, he still wanted more--and David's combat experience showed it. He was an excellent soldier. 

David, I will never forget you. After the funeral, I remember telling someone that David was a warrior, is a warrior and will forever be a warrior. I haven't changed my mind about that. I never will.

He came to Israel. He stood up for Israel. He went to war for Israel. Now he's gone.

David, may your neshama (soul) find rest and peace. May the Creator Himself comfort you.