Today, Yom HaZikaron, I addressed the high school students of Yeshivah College in Melbourne. I don't know if many knew about Yom HaZikaron, but I think they do now. Here is the text of my speech.
Thank you for inviting me to speak.
My brother, Yehuda Pakula, was 17 when he left
Australia in 1968.
He left for several reasons.
He wished to explore his roots in Israel, as our
mother’s family came to Australia from Tzefat, pre WW1.
He wanted to visit ancient places about which he
had learned in the TaNaCh while at school in Yeshivah College, where he had
just completed year 12.
He was inspired by the recent miracle of the
6-Day-War, and wanted to be part of the thrilling story of Modern Israel.
AND
He had been the target of one too many
anti-Semitic attacks, where he had been pushed off his bike, beaten and called
a ‘bloody Jew’.
He bought a one-way ticket to Israel and swore
that he would not return to Australia.
We must be careful what we wish for. He never did
return.
After meeting family and doing some touring, he
did Ulpan on Kibbutz Sde Eliahu and integrated very quickly into the kibbutz
community, eventually becoming a Chaver Kibbutz and then a member of the
‘Yachdav’ Garin. He was expert in driving heavy tractors to till the fields for
planting. He had found his niche.
He enlisted in the IDF January 1971, underwent
basic military training and joined the Armed Corps as a tank driver.
He was on Miluim, reserve duty, when he was
stationed at the Mezach, on the Suez, and was one of the first casualties of
the Yom Kippur War, falling on the 6th of October, killed by a
sniper’s bullet fired across the Suez. He had been due to be married in
November of that year. He was 22.
His platoon were forced to surrender after a week
of fierce fighting, under constant artillery attack by the Egyptians. They were
out of food and ammunition, and the IDF had not been able to rescue them. The
commander of the unit, Shlomo Erdinast, aged 21, insisted that the Red Cross be
present for the surrender, which took place on the 8th day of the
war, a Shabbos. The men had washed themselves and their uniforms as best they
could so as to not go down in history humiliated and in tatters, rather as
proud representatives of Israel.
Erdinast had also insisted that the Red Cross
supervise the return of the 5 fallen to Israel for burial. But this did not
happen; Yehuda and his fallen fellow soldiers were left where they fell. The
bodies were not returned for burial until after the 1978 Camp David Accords. They were left for 5 years in the desert.
After the Accords, IDF soldiers with specially trained dogs were brought to
find the remains which were identified with their tags and with dental records.
Yehudah was brought to Kever Yisrael in Har Herzl military cemetery.
Yehuda’s death was a terrible tragedy in a
terrible war, and it took a terrible toll on my parents.
My
father was a Holocaust survivor who had lost most of his family, including his
first wife and 2 sons, murdered by the Nazis.
My mother never recovered emotionally and died 11
years later of cancer, but grief definitely played a part.
I was 18 and my parents were devastated. There was
no such thing as grief counseling then, and we survived in our own ways.
My parents and I were flown over to Israel by the
Israeli Government in December, shortly after Yehudah’s death was confirmed as
his platoon which had been taken prisoner by the Egyptians was released after 5
weeks, in prisoner exchanges. We stayed on Kibbutz Sde Eliyahu where we all
were assigned jobs; for my parents, my father especially, work was therapy as
he was skilled with a sewing machine and mended all the kibbutzniks’ clothes.
It was a strange, difficult time in Israel after
the war. People were mourning; every family had lost someone or had a wounded
son.
To give you some perspective, the population of
Israel at the time was under 3.5 million; 2,688 soldiers had been killed and
about 9,000 physically wounded. These numbers do not take into account
psychological injuries. There was a sort of numbness in the people, which ran
parallel with frenetic activity and partying of the youth. The economy was
pretty poor then and people were struggling. I was only 18 and spent a lot of
the time on kibbutz. It took me years to even realize that I was also
psychologically affected, not least because my parents, my mother especially,
were prisoners of their grief and were functioning at a very low level, getting
the bare minimum done in order to live; it was a very quiet house.
Fortunately I was able to focus on my medical
studies and with the seeming carelessness of youth, I had a busy social life
and was active on campus, editing the student newspaper, getting involved in
student politics, campaigning for the release of Soviet Jewry etc. Around 1970
Ali Kazak had come as a PLO lobbyist and started whipping up pro-Palestinian
and anti-Israel sentiment on campuses. There were rallies and there was
violence but I feel it is far worse today.
Unfortunately, Israel has had to make too many
sacrifices in fighting for her freedom and very right to exist.
But, until Moshiach comes, we must be prepared for
this terrible ongoing loss of life in defence of our land; we must be strong
and of good spirit, Chazak veAmatz, because Eretz Yisrael is all we have.
It was true for Yehuda and it remains true today.
Far all those, nearly 28,000, who have fallen in defence of
Israel, and as victims of terror:
YEHI ZICHRAM BARUCH.
Am Yisrael Chai.
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