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essay

Our Secret Weapon

Unity is the strongest force
the Jewish people have.

IDF paratrooper Zach Herschfus in the field during
a training exercise.

ZACH HERSCHFUS SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS

I

drafted as a Lone Soldier
to the Paratroopers Unit of
the Israel Defense Forces
in March 2017. After months
of challenging training, I now
participate in patrols and
missions that help ensure the
safety and the continuity of the
Jewish homeland. However, on
the fourth day of the month of
Iyar on the Jewish calendar, I
participated in a mission like
no other I have experienced
before.
The fourth of Iyar is the day
on the Hebrew calendar on
which we commemorate Yom
Hazikaron, Israel’s Memorial
Day. On this day, the entire
country of Israel mourns the
loss of those who have died as
soldiers or as victims of ter-
ror. Yom Hazikaron starts at
sundown when a siren, which
is heard across the country,
is sounded for one minute.
Everyone stops what they are
doing and stands for a moment
of silence to show respect for
those who have fallen.
The following morning, the
National Memorial Ceremony
for fallen soldiers takes place
at Har Herzl, Israel’s military
cemetery. Friends and families
gather at the gravesides of their
loved ones for the ceremony
and at 11 a.m. the siren sounds
once again, this time for two
minutes.
The Israeli army sets out
to make sure proper honor is
given to all the brave soldiers
who have sacrificed for the
country and to bring comfort
to their families. The army
prepares with diligence and
seriousness for this ceremony
like they prepare for any of its
missions. Currently, enlisted
soldiers are carefully selected
to stand by each of the graves
at Har Herzl during the cer-
emony. When the siren wails,
not one of our brave fallen

heroes is alone as there is a
soldier standing at attention at
each graveside.
Each soldier who is assigned
to a grave learns about the
person whose grave they are
assigned to. I was assigned
the name Raphael Mordechai.
I learned that Raphael
Mordechai immigrated with his
family to Israel from Baghdad.
He lived in the northern part
of Israel and, as a teenager, he
served as a leader in Bnei Akiva
and other youth organizations.
He enjoyed playing sports,
especially basketball.
Raphael Mordechai served as
an officer in the same division
of paratroopers as I serve in
today. He fought in the War of
Attrition against Egypt and was
badly injured when he was shot
in the stomach. He managed
to recover from this injury and
returned to fight with his unit.
He fell in battle during the 1973
Yom Kippur War.
When I arrived at the cem-
etery and located Raphael
Mordechai’s grave, I found
there were about 20 people
of various ages standing
around the grave, clearly hav-
ing their family moment with
their departed. I was hesitant
to approach and introduce
myself,as my initial thought
was that I didn’t really belong
there and that I should be giv-
ing the family their privacy to
mourn their loss.
My commanding officer
encouraged me to go introduce
myself. I slowly made my way
toward the grave and wiggled
my way through the family
members to the eldest man at
the graveside who I assumed
was Raphael Mordechai’s
father. I put my hand on his
shoulder and when he turned
around he looked at me and
immediately gave me a hug. I
introduced myself as the repre-

sentative from the Paratroopers
Unit, and he began to cry and
grabbed me once again and
gave me a hug and a kiss.
He proceeded to introduce
me to the rest of the family
including his grandson, Rafi,
who is named in memory of
his brave uncle. I talked with
the family for the next hour as
they warmly welcomed me as
part of their group. I listened to
their stories about life “back in
the day” and the struggles and
sacrifices they have endured
and what they have given
up for Israel to be where it is
today.
As the ceremony was get-
ting ready to start, I assumed
my stance in amod dom (at
attention). At 11a.m., as the
siren started to wail, although
there were thousands of people
standing crowded together in
that cemetery, there was just
pure silence. It was deafening! I
felt Raphael Mordechai’s father
grab my hand and squeeze it
and I heard him start to cry
again. I realized tears were
streaming down my face as
well; and in that powerful
moment in time I understood
the meaning of my mission
on that day. This mission was
not about guns and grenades;
rather it was about our people’s
most powerful weapon — unity.
I stood there thinking about
how this man, who was a total
stranger to me just an hour ago,
had chosen to hold my hand
at this moment. How together
as one we were sharing the
pain of loss and at the same
time the pride in what Raphael
Mordechai had given for the
country. Knowing that we have
what we have today because
of soldiers like him and all the
other soldiers who lay in their
graves surrounding him.
I realized that I, in fact, did
belong there with him because

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May 17 • 2018

jn