10 | OCTOBER 28 • 2021 

PURELY COMMENTARY

essay
To My Youngest Daughter 
Upon Her Joining the IDF

D

ear D.,
Last month, 
[undercover count-
er-terrorism] Duvdevan 
commandos — a commander 
and his signal operator — 
were shot multiple times 
while chasing 
Hamas terror-
ists. One bullet 
pierced one of 
the command-
er’s grenades. 
Thanks to an 
Israeli techno-
logical inno-
vation, the grenade didn’t 
explode.
A medic ran to them, defy-
ing flying bullets, following 
the chest wound protocols, 
including intubating the 
commander, saving his life. 
Treating the soldier, the same 
medic violated the same pro-
tocols, perhaps remembering 
an update not to intubate if 
blood pressure plummets. 
That brave deviation saved 
the soldier’s life.
The brigade’s medical 
officer then changed the 
medivac’s rendezvous site. 
Her decision compressed the 
evacuation timetable — also 
saving their lives.
That’s the kind of army 
you joined yesterday — 
and those are the kinds of 
life-and-death, on-the-fly, 
split-second, crazy, cre-
ative, courageous, some-
times self-sacrificing, often 
risk-taking decisions you will 
start making tomorrow.
Of course, we, your par-
ents, will never know about 

them. The one thing we 
know about your service is 
that we’re not supposed to 
know anything about your 
service.
But we know you. And we 
are already proud of you and 
all that you and your peers 
offer our country, our people 
and our cause — this world-
wide fight for civilization, 
sanity and safety.
Like most of us today, you 
are among the biggest win-
ners of the Great Historical 
Lottery. We’re weirdos in 
Jewish history — Jews born 
free and comfortable.
Entering senior year, you 
had worked hard — gain-
ing maturity, creativity and 
improvisational abilities 
from leading 70 kids weekly 
with three other teenagers 
as a Bnei Akiva madrichah 
(counselor), while gaining 
book smarts and good val-
ues in high school. You had 
shown tremendous discipline 

in studying, violin-playing 
and balleting. But you had 
never needed to demonstrate 
much resilience.
Then corona hit.
I watched as you absorbed 
blow after blow, cancellation 
after cancellation, your senior 
year, with a smile on your 
face, making the best of it.
The best example of your 
buoyancy came when you 
were distributing food city-
wide to needy Jerusalemites 
during the lockdown. The 
police stopped you 12 times 
one day. One officer nabbed 
you as her shift began — 
then again when it ended. 
You showed your permits 
patiently, taking it all in 
good spirits — even when 
that skeptical first-and-last 
officer threatened to arrest 
you.
You brought that same 
flexibility and strength to 
your premilitary year. The 
living conditions were, ahem, 

not five-star. Corona made 
the studies on and off, while 
limiting your volunteer 
opportunities.
Nevertheless, when you 
were there, you were happy. 
When you were sent home, 
you were happy. And when 
you were in that never-never 
land called Zoom, you were 
happy, too. Little seemed to 
faze you. The payoff was in 
great teachers, great friends 
and a great grounding for the 
army — and for life.
Now, as you, my fourth 
child, join the Israeli army, 
I watch through competing 
historical lenses as an oleh 
dad. It’s easiest, and emo-
tionally safest, to see this 
all in Jewish historical time, 
marveling at our ability to 
defend ourselves, and your 
opportunity to contribute 
to Israel, the greatest Jewish 
adventure in millennia.
Zooming in, it’s hardest to 
compare your timeline and 

IDF FACEBOOK

IDF soldiers

Gil Troy

