Boaz Zaidler –
It is not easy for me to write about October 7th without mixing in politics. And though we saw it coming, it still surprised us.
It surprised me. And I may be the one paying the price.
But that’s how I operate. Packing a bag, kissing my girlfriend goodbye.
Leaving.
Heading north with a pounding heart, conserving energy and staying calm, because it might be a long night.
Not knowing it would be 123 nights.
123 nights.
123 days of not knowing if I’m coming back.
Should I apologize for blaming politicians? But that’s exactly what it is.
Stupidity and corruption come at a cost.
Will I be the one who pays?
I’m angry at the leadership, and I’m angry at my people.
And yet, I stand.
It’s illogical: the rhythm of my life during war time. I leave my girlfriend, my life.
Again.
And again.
I head North, yet again, for my team, the soldiers in my unit, my people, an idea I leave behind, as I grab my rifle, pack my bags.
Again.
No logic, no reason.
My duty as a soldier.
Image by Moshe Zaidler (father to Boaz)
Instagram @moshezaidler
