On the morning of 24 October 1973, as the final act of the Yom Kippur war, Israeli forces entered the city of Suez, the Southern terminus of the Suez Canal. Unexpectedly, the Israelis met strong enemy resistance. After suffering heavy casualties, our small unit of paratroopers took shelter in a police building in the center of the city. We were surrounded and outnumbered, with no way out. All day, we fought off the Egyptian soldiers. At night, we carried our wounded, and walked out of the city, unopposed. Shortly before daybreak, we crossed over to our side of the line.
This December, forty years after the war, our unit will meet and, for the first time, talk about the events of that day. In preparation for the reunion, the organizers asked us to provide some personal material. Below, is my contribution.
It is a dark night, and I am walking in the center of a wide and empty street. Behind me, the occasional clanging of weapons disturbs the eerie silence of the city. I can see the rest of the men advancing in the protective shadows of the two-storied buildings. Despite the danger, walking feels good. Yet I worry about the late hour. We must be out of the city before daybreak. I pick up the pace, trusting that the wounded, as well as the men carrying the critically injured, can muster the extra effort.
About one hundred paces ahead of me, there is an object on the road. Keep walking.
Fifty paces ahead. It looks like a body. Wounded? Ours or theirs? A sleeping guard? Keep walking.
Twenty paces. It stirred. Definitely a live person. An ambush? No time to investigate, we need to advance. My role is deathly clear: I provide the early warning. If shooting starts, the others will have time to react. Keep walking.
Ten paces. The man ahead woke up, and is slowly getting to his feet. I hold my uzi at the ready. He is wearing khaki, but without any insignia or stripes. I don't see a weapon. What is he doing here? If it is an ambush, they would be shooting by now. If I shoot first, the noise will attract the attention of many Egyptian soldiers. We can't fight our way out. Stealth is better.
Five Paces. He is young. Very young. Too young to be a soldier? He looks at me without comprehension, as if I am an apparition. Is he sleepy? drunk? crazy? Then, he realizes that he is not facing a ghost, but an armed Israeli soldier. I have never seen such terror in anyone's eyes. My finger squeezes the trigger. He stands frozen in place. Soldier or not, he may report our position to the Egyptian forces. He is so young. I ease off the trigger. After an instant, he bolts, and disappears into the darkness.
Not long afterward, we reached the water canal, and the safety of our forces.
I am content. One more being survived Suez.
