Many original kibbutz members had more than one skill, and their diverse backgrounds soon made them recognize that exporting fruit would only provide limited income. So, they put their combined skills to work and founded what would eventually become one of the largest fruit canning enterprises in Israel, exporting their products all over the world.
Ephraim eventually showed a mechanical aptitude he never knew he possessed and became one of the lead hand/managers of the kibbutz canning facility. He relished the idea of going to work each day, studying the intricacies of the machinery employed in the canning process. He treated them as if they had been patients in his medical practice in Vienna. He nurtured them and repaired them with a skill that only a former physician could apply.
The knowledge that he was aiding the development of the economy of Yagur gave Ephraim immense satisfaction. It surprised him and Miriam when he revealed a latent entrepreneurial talent he had never realized he possessed. He was always developing new improvements to the canning lines and their specialized equipment. The kibbutz had some of the machines he designed patented, and eventually they were sold all over the world. Ephraim’s skills and efforts made a great deal of money for the kibbutz. The success he had achieved in a relatively short time brought him immense pride and comfort.
On Sundays, he would teach in the kibbutz school. Even though he was a doctor by training and an engineer at heart, Ephraim was above all an incredible teacher. He taught the senior students for a three-hour period each week. At first Ephraim’s remit was to teach his class the basics of science and math with the intent of preparing the students for the many opportunities that were opening up in the medical and electronics industries, but he quickly recognized that these were much too dry and boring for the group. He switched up the course to one about life and getting along in the world, efficiently and creatively weaving not only science and math, but also music and literature into the program. Needless to say, Ephraim’s Sunday program was the one most anticipated and sought after.
In the meantime, Miriam became wholly immersed in aiding young children in reading and writing Hebrew. She had developed a special bond with Ariel from their first meeting and by now the two were inseparable. Ariel was able to encourage Miriam to use her first love of pediatrics to help her teach language and writing to the kindergarten and early grades.
Neither Miriam nor Ephraim had believed they would ever have children after the physical atrocities forced on her in the camps. It was a miracle she had survived, and the healthy invigorating kibbutz life and special relationship with Ariel rejuvenated her. Many times, Ariel would say quietly to Miriam when they were alone together, “Don’t ever give up. At least enjoy the lovemaking each and every time. Men like nothing more than a good schtup after a hard day’s work. Don’t chase Ephraim away. He adores you and even if you are not able to get pregnant, give him a good schtup!”
Then, in 1952, Miriam gave birth to a healthy boy, whom they named Eli, after Ephraim’s late father. It was only while they were in the DP camps that Ephraim had learned, through the services of the Jewish Agency, that his father and mother had both perished in a death camp at Sobibor.
The birth of Eli and the utter joy and happiness he brought into their lives was heartwarming to see for all their friends and fellow kibbutzniks, most of all Ariel. Once in a while, she would give Miriam a knowing smile and they would keep their little secret about ’a good schtup.’
As he grew from baby to young boy, then young adult, Eli’s parents wanted much more for him than kibbutz life. By the time he was twenty, Eli had finished his education at the Technion in Haifa and joined the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) for his compulsory three years of service. After finishing as a captain in the Tank Corps, Eli served on the Golan during the Yom Kippur War in 1973 and distinguished himself so much that he attracted attention from the senior brass in the army, who prevailed on him to become a career officer. Eli accepted and eventually rose through the ranks. He was a fearless warrior, yet gentle and empathetic, not to mention extremely handsome. He was considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors in Israel at the time.
CHAPTER 7
Golan Heights, October 6–9, 1973
The combined Arab armies attacked Israel on October 6, 1973 in what became known as the Yom Kippur War. Eli was commanding a squadron of tanks on the Northern flank of the Golan. The Syrian Army attacked the Israeli forces with an overwhelming force of 50,000 soldiers, plus 1,200 tanks and artillery.
Eli was attached to the 7th Brigade, commanded by the legendary Lieutenant Colonel Avigdor Kahalani. Over three days of intense fighting, some of it hand-to-hand combat, he and his troops drove off the Syrians, destroying large numbers of their tanks and artillery pieces. It was during this desperate battle that Eli’s courage and leadership came to the attention of his superior officers. At one critical point, his squadron of eight remaining tanks was about to be surrounded by a far greater force. With ammunition running low and little fuel, Eli ordered his tanks to charge the Syrians, destroying twenty Syrian tanks as they advanced on Israeli positions. Eli had been ordered to withdraw from the Valley, but he ignored the command and later claimed poor radio reception. Instead he spoke to each of his tank commanders, code names David 1 through David 7: “Leader to Davids, line abreast on me and full speed at these bastards!”
The eight tanks quickly fell into line and raced at the Syrian tanks, firing cannons and machine guns, causing heavy enemy casualties. At one point, David 2, commanded by Sergeant Yossi Ehrlichman, radioed, “David 2 to Leader, we’re out of fuel. I’m going to laager here and target whatever I can get a clear shot at. We have about fifteen rounds of 105 mm left. Over and out.”
Eli felt despondent when he realized that Ehrlichman’s crew was his youngest and least experienced. Speaking to his driver, he said, “Those kids are beyond heroes. They have just signed their own death warrants and we cannot aid them. God help them.”
He continued to urge his remaining force forward, destroying armoured personnel carriers (APCs) and tanks, chasing the Syrian and Moroccan enemy back to their own lines.
One of his tankers, David 3, called out, “David 3 to Leader, Yossi in 2 just took a direct hit! Oh God! Oh God! The whole fucking tank just exploded in a fireball!”
Eli managed a quick look over at the burning mass of molten metal and was hard-pressed not to throw up. He knew the youngsters, and worse yet, their parents. As a tight little command, they were a close-knit family; or had been. “May their memories be for a blessing,” he said in a broken voice.
David 3 replied, “Baruch dayan ha′emet (Blessed is the true judge).”
The Syrian force directly opposed to Eli’s consisted of over 120 tanks when the battle commenced. Within two hours, the Syrians withdrew, leaving behind on the battlefield, soon to be known as the Valley of Tears, over fifty blazing tanks, dozens of burned-out APC troop carriers, and more than four hundred dead soldiers.
After a tense 72 hours, when the survival of Israel lay in the balance, Eli and his fellow tankers fought off and defeated a far superior (in numbers) Syrian Army. At the height of the battle for the Golan, Israel possessed a total of 120 operational tanks. The Syrians and the Moroccans had over 1,200.
In recognition of his success on the Golan, Eli was quickly promoted from lieutenant to captain in the IDF tank forces, eventually rising to the rank of Tat Aluf, in command of all the IDF tank forces.
CHAPTER 8
In 1976, Eli travelled to Canada and the United States as part of an IDF delegation, speaking at synagogues and other institutions about Israel’s role in the Yom Kippur War.
As he began his address on a Thursday night to the congregation of the famous Temple Emmanuel in Westmount, Montreal, he took a moment to connect with the audience. Sitting a few rows in front of the stage, he noticed an incredibly beautiful young woman. She had lustrous auburn hair and brilliant green eyes and was one of the most stunning women Eli had ever seen. Sophie Grantzman was
fascinated by the handsome Israeli soldier.
Then, Eli began to give his talk. He described to the assembled people of Westmount how the survival of Israel hung in the balance for a nerve-wracking 72 hours. He spoke of the acute shortage of 105 mm shells for the tanks and artillery. Eli told the audience how Golda Meir had flown to Washington, DC to beg President Nixon and Secretary of State Kissinger to get the ammunition to Israel or Israel would likely be defeated. Eli explained that the Israeli military was down to less than a 48-hour supply of this critical ammunition. His praise was effusive for the American Air Force, who on Nixon’s and Kissinger’s orders rushed the supplies to Ben Gurion Airport. Eli also told how ordinary civilians came to the airport to assist in unloading the US Air Force planes, driving the critical cargo straight to the battlefields because the situation was so desperate.
He modestly described his own role in the battle on the Golan Heights and how young, way too young, Israeli tankers selflessly drove into battle to confront the Syrians. Some of these youngsters were not even in their twenties. Eli became emotional when he told how one of the tanks under his command had run out of fuel and how the young commander, Sergeant Yossi Ehrlichman, had manoeuvred their tank into a position where they could fire effectively at the enemy. Yossi and his tank eventually became a sitting target for the Syrian tanks, and sadly the young crew’s tank received a direct hit that turned it into a fireball, but not before they had destroyed two enemy tanks and three APCs. Eli often relived the scene in nightmares, hearing the gut-wrenching screams amid the explosions as it became a mass of shattered steel and detonating ammunition.
He captured the audience with his soft but authoritative speaking style, and many gasped when they heard just how desperate the fighting on the Golan had been and the terrible sacrifices so many young Israelis had made. Most had no idea how close Israel had come to being overrun and defeated. Eli gave many in that audience, finally, a close connection to the real dangers of the neighbourhood Israel lives in.
After he finished, the audience was invited to a reception, where Eli was the congregation’s guest of honour. As he circulated among the members, he was constantly looking for the gorgeous young woman he had seen in the audience. Eventually, he and Sophie were introduced by the synagogue president. For the rest of the evening, the two of them only had eyes for each other. As the gala concluded, Sophie and Eli exchanged contact information. He informed her he was a house guest of the synagogue president, Chaim Miller. Sophie gave him her details, and both knew they would see each other again. Then, on a whim, she invited him home for Shabbat dinner the next evening, Friday, much to the chagrin of the Millers.
Sophie was a gregarious knockout, and she was swept off her feet by the handsome IDF officer. Never in her life had she been so physically smitten by a man. From the very minute she set eyes on Eli, all of her physical senses were energized. At first, she was so totally shocked that she felt ashamed. Quickly shedding that thought, she set her focus on getting to know the magnetic Israeli.
Sophie had grown up in Montreal, in a typical middle-class family in the town of Mount Royal. Her grandparents had arrived in Montreal from Romania and Russia in 1910. Both were essentially penniless when they met at a synagogue social a few months later. Sophie’s grandfather, Abraham, was very industrious, and her Grandma Rebecca was a brilliant seamstress. Within a short time, they had created and grown a booming teen-clothing manufacturing business, which became a well-known brand name across Canada and the United States. Sophie’s father, Arnold, had taken over when Grandpa Abe and Grandma Beckie retired and moved to Florida, and Arnold had greatly expanded the business.
For the whole Shabbat evening, it was all Sophie could do to keep from touching Eli’s arm or cheek. She was also acutely aware of her mother, Rhoda, keenly observing the change in her daughter. Sophie had spent years with many boys chasing her, but never had any one of them caused such a change in Sophie. When dinner was over and Sophie announced she would drive Eli back to the Miller home, Rhoda and Arnold were quite overwhelmed by their daughter’s being so smitten. She came home later that night and told her parents she was going to marry the dashing young man, which came as no surprise to Rhoda.
Eli was only in Montreal for another week, during which Sophie and he tried to see each other as much as they could. Because of their respective time commitments, they only spent a few hours together, but both knew their lives would forever be entwined. Sophie showed Eli the historic quarter of Old Montreal and the original Jewish Quarter just north of the mountain. Eli was fascinated by the eclectic vibrancy of the city.
He returned to Israel and his duties, but he and Sophie wrote regularly and spoke often on the phone.
CHAPTER 9
A year later, in 1977, Sophie made Aliya to Israel and joined the IDF herself. This came as no surprise to her parents. The transition was relatively easy, since her grandparents had encouraged her from an early age to study and speak both Yiddish and Hebrew. She was also fluent in French, so languages were a nonissue for her.
By this time, Eli had been promoted to command a new tank school in the Judean desert, commuting on weekends to Tel Aviv. He and Sophie remained in constant contact with each other and when their leaves and time permitted, they met up, usually spending weekends in Tel Aviv, mostly in bed.
Their first time together was an experience like no other for Sophie. Eli literally swept her off her feet as they entered their hotel room, and she was so overcome with passion, it was only a matter of minutes before the floor was littered with their clothes. Sophie had never experienced such physical pleasure before Eli. Lying snuggled up to his bare chest, she was practically purring like a cat. Sweat glistened on their torsos and the pungent aroma of sex surrounded them. Gazing into Sophie’s eyes, Eli murmured, “My little swallow from Canada, you are the most beautiful person I have ever known.”
“I’m not a bird, you big goof.” Sophie giggled.
“Listen, little girl, I know we have to go back to our units in a few hours, but let me tell you, I will never let you go. I will love you all the days we are apart and twice as much on the days we are together. You are my soulmate, my destiny. Without you I cannot be and do what I have been called to do for our beloved Israel. I will need you by my side forever.”
“Oh my, Eli, you must know that I fell in love with you from the first minute I set eyes on you, when you gave that talk at the synagogue in Montreal. After the time you came for Shabbat dinner, my mother knew even before I told her that I was going to marry you. She had already told my dad that I would have eyes for no one else and that I would eventually marry you. So, Soldier-Boy Lazarus, when are we getting married?!”
After their passionate sex-filled weekends, they would both return to their units and anxiously count the days to their next encounter. Whenever Sophie returned from one of her weekends with Eli, her fellow soldiers would tease her. She looked radiant and they all guessed as to how she had spent the weekend.
It wasn’t long after she finished her first year in the IDF that Sophie got her wish. She married Eli in 1978.
CHAPTER 10
Eli and Sophie settled into married life and soon had a son, Ari, in 1979. Very soon after Ari began to grow into a young child and then a young adult, they both realized he had a unique talent and ability — a photographic memory. Show him a face, a book page, a mathematical problem, and Ari had the memory or answer forever imprinted in his mind. As a soldier and then a member of 9, he could recognize a terrorist from a picture that he had seen only once while perusing files years later. After finishing high school, Ari served his mandatory three years in the IDF infantry, his final year with the counter-terrorist forces, Mista′arvim, where he participated in some highly secretive and classified missions. The Mista′arvim was a unit of special forces within the IDF whose remit was to clandestinely enter hostile territories — usually the Gaza Strip, Judea and Samaria, and the bordering states of Lebanon, Jordan, and Syria — to root out and
eliminate known terrorists who had attacked Israel or Israeli citizens.
Ari’s father, Eli, was aware of some of the unit’s missions and many times had to wrestle with the fact that he and Sophie’s only son was in harm’s way; yet he could never divulge even to Sophie his angst and concern for Ari’s safe return.
One such mission was led by Ari in 1999. Arab jihadi terrorists had slaughtered a young family on a beach north of Haifa. The four PLO terrorists had come down from Lebanon looking for opportunities to attack and kill Israeli civilians. Their plan had been to land on the beach and move inland to a small town near Rosh Hanikrah, then detonate explosives and shoot up the residents as they left a community centre and synagogue. As they landed their boat and prepared to move off, they were surprised by a family who were spending a day there. The father, Nahum Rivkin, immediately recognized who and what they were and desperately tried to alert the authorities as well as protect his family. His cell phone call reached the local police station, who alerted the IDF and Border Police, but it was too late for the family. The terrorists strangled the two children — Sarah, aged five, and Joseph, three. Then they disemboweled Sarah in front of Nahum as they held him down and forced him to watch. Finally, they almost beheaded him by slitting his throat from ear to ear, leaving him to bleed out on the beach next to his slaughtered wife and children. The terrorists quickly departed before security forces could apprehend them; they returned to Lebanon believing they had struck a blow for the greater good of the Arab world and for the freedom cause of the PLO.
The End of Terror Page 3