A teacher needs students. A chef needs ingredients. A pilot needs a plane. And a writer needs words. I have a problem. I’m a writer. But I have no words. And when I do have words, they generally get stuck in my throat. I considered skipping my column this week, but I’m going to do my best to give you a picture of what life looks like in a war zone.
From the start, I avoided looking at gruesome images and watching disturbing videos. But now, I don’t read the news outlets at all. I am on a WhatsApp group that provides basic news updates three times a day so that I have the information I need without adding unnecessary trauma. Sleep does not come easily. The emotionally charged atmosphere here is quite different from just a week and a half ago. It is mind-boggling how much the world can change in the blink of an eye.
Immediately after Simchas Torah, the shelves that usually display milk products, produce, chicken, and meat were literally empty. Baruch Hashem, it did not take long to replenish those items. We now have plenty of food to eat, albeit, not much of an appetite.
Because of the situation, some stay close to home, while others are out and about. But many are on edge. I suddenly notice myself questioning the source of sounds that I have heard many times in the past, but never paid attention to before. Is that a missile I’m hearing? No. It’s the electric kettle heating up water. I hear the rumble of military fighter jets all day and all night long. But one sounded different from the others. What was that? Turns out it was not a jet. It was the hum of my refrigerator. Oh.
When my husband and I left a family bris that had been downsized and relocated to someone’s apartment due to the recent restrictions placed on the size of social gatherings, we noticed a dark-skinned man suspiciously wandering around the garden of the building. We pointed him out to our gun-toting nephew who immediately checked out the situation. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the “suspect” worked for the gas company and was searching for the meter. What a relief! During the bris, as I watched our nephew carrying his gun while simultaneously holding the baby as he was given a name, I was struck by the incongruity of it all. The gun seemed so out of place. Yet, the gun was thankfully where it needed to be when we got scared.
The incredible acts of chesed continue unabated, creating the heartwarming need to streamline and keep track of the available services and resources. Food, diapers, and toys have been collected for families displaced due to rocket barrages. Day camps and carnivals have been arranged for those same families, as well as families whose fathers have been called up to serve. Citizens are working in factories and fields to cover for those called up by the army. Free lessons are being taught on Zoom to help children keep up with their studies. Recreational classes and various forms of entertainment are accessible online, free of charge. There is a long list of birth and postpartum doulas ready to provide their services, free of charge, to pregnant women whose husbands were called up to defend the country. Even the IRS postponed the deadline for filing US tax returns for those affected by the war.
El Al Airlines has taken a significant role in the war effort. This week, the airport in Bangkok was filled with Israelis who wanted to return to Israel to fight in the war. When every seat on an El Al flight to Israel had already been filled, the staff allowed more passengers to board the plane and sit in the crew’s folding chairs. Those still trying to get on the plane were given permission to sit on the floor in the kitchens, near the doors, near the cockpit, and in business class. The captain walked around during the flight to ensure that these passengers were cared for.
Efforts to increase security and reduce stress abound. The Beit Shemesh municipality is working to establish a team of armed volunteers who will be on duty on Shabbos in shuls. Mei Shemesh, the local water company, asked those hosting families from the north or south to update them with the number of residents on their property so they can receive an additional allocated amount of water. All residents were invited to a drop-in support group.
Every chayal has suddenly become a “mefaked (commander).” A chayal who begins to verbalize a request will be met with a response before he finishes his sentence. Jews from every segment of society practically trip over one another to fulfill those requests.
At 1 p.m. this past Friday, a message was sent to many Beit Shemesh WhatsApp groups calling for supplies for 200 soldiers coming to the area for Shabbos. Three meals and bedding were required on short notice when the stores would soon be closing. The list on the Google spreadsheet was extremely long, but it was filled by hundreds of volunteers who ensured that every last need of those chayalim was met. The outpouring of help was heartwarming, but not surprising.
When we visited our son’s base, the chayalim were amazed by the effort put into the food that our neighbors had sent. In one package, each cookie had been individually wrapped in its own bag along with an encouraging note. My son’s base is treated to a barbecue or pizza almost every night.
At around 2:30 on Friday afternoon, my husband received a message from my son stating that approximately 20 chayalim in his unit do not have watches. For many, watches are a relic of the past because they rely on their phones. But if and when their phones are taken away (I’m not going to think about that right now), they will need watches. My husband sent a message to his groups with the request and also contacted a local jeweler who met him at his store (which was already closed for Shabbos) and quickly gave him the watches at cost. Our friends in the US picked up the tab. My husband came home to pick up the additional watches that neighbors had brought over and was off to our son’s base located 1.5 hours from where we live, hoping that he would make it back in time for Shabbos. One problem the war seems to have solved is the congestion on the roads. Baruch Hashem, he made it. Today, my son was given a few hours off. He called to tell us about his break, and we were soon out the door. As far as chayalim are concerned, no request is too much to ask.
I saw a chizuk clip by HaGaon HaRav Asher Weiss shlita, a world-renowned poseik based in Yerushalayim. He ended with a brachah, saying that Hashem should look down and see the beauty of B’nei Yisrael and have mercy upon us. Our enemies will be defeated before us. His brachah continued that whoever goes out to war will return home in peace to life and to joy. B’ezras Hashem, Rav Weiss’ brachah should come to fruition, and we will see better days very soon.
Suzie Steinberg, (nee Schapiro), CSW, is a native of Kew Gardens Hills and resident of Ramat Beit Shemesh who publishes articles regularly in various newspapers and magazines about life in general, and about life in Israel in particular. Her recently published children’s book titled Hashem is Always With Me can be purchased in local Judaica stores as well as online. Suzie can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and would love to hear from you.
