Pinky and Yair

"Buses on Yom Kippur? Something’s wrong!" thought Pinky as he looked out the window. Just then, the telephone rang. The quietest day of the year turned into the noisiest. It was October 5, 1973! We were at war.

After the telephone call, Pinky told everyone, "I must go to my unit. I have to get ready."

"And you must eat something too," said his mother. "A soldier can’t go to a war hungry."

"Dad, where’s that pocket-knife?"

"I’ll get it for you."

"Can you find some more socks for me, please? The thick ones?" Pinky asked his wife. He stopped and kissed her. "Don’t worry, Sweetie. It will soon end!" he said.

Pinky’s parents were also thinking about Yair, their younger son, 19-years-old. They remembered his telephone call on the evening before from an army base: "Hello, Mom and Dad. I’m sorry that I can’t be home for Yom Kippur. I hope I’ll be there for Succot!" Pinky was a reserve officer and already 24-years-old, but Yair was so young.

The Voice of Israel, usually quiet on this day, gave news-flashes. It also called up many units. The roads were busy with cars and buses.

During Pinky’s hurried lunch, he, his wife and parents tried to talk naturally and pleasantly, but each had his own thoughts in his heart.

A long nightmare for the family soon began. On the second day of the war, Pinky was killed on the Golan Heights. He was the commander of a unit that pushed back the Syrian attack. On the same day, almost at the same time, Yair was killed when Egyptian soldiers attacked his tank in the Sinai.

In the bible, when King David heard that both Saul and Jonathan had died in the Battle of Gilboa, he said: "How the mighty have fallen, and in their death, they were not separated..."
 

This true story was written by Anna Sotto, a close family friend of Yair and Pinky.
 
 

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