Frozen in Time

The father and the son stroll through the dawn and the dust and the peaceful silence of the village—passive spectators. Behind them the sun peaks tentatively over the horizon, piercing the acrid smoke of the coal fires with sharp beams of gold that cast their long meticulous shadows across a waking world. The very earth seems to stir as the sound of their footsteps and the crowing of the roosters mingles with the clang of pots and the mellifluous giggling

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Reflections Two Years Later

It’s been over three years since I drafted into the IDF. Even today, I struggle to fully understand the scope of my experience; its effect was indubitably defining, but I can’t fully process it all. I don’t believe there is a soldier, especially a Chayal Boded, who can survive IDF service and not be profoundly affected. I miss it immensely. Two years since release and my army memories are the most powerful memories I have. Far more than with any

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