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<div><font color="#000000" face="Arial" size="2">In a message dated 8/16/2006 6:24:15 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time,
<a href="mailto:madona_m@yahoo.com" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">madona_m@yahoo.com</a> writes:</font></div>
<blockquote style="border-left: 2px solid blue; padding-left: 5px; margin-left: 5px;"><font color="#000000" face="Arial" size="2"><font style="background-color: transparent;" color="#000000" face="Arial" size="2">Please
read this article. If you do not have time please read the <br>three
paragraphs I have pasted below. Israel and the U.S. have <br>maintained that
they are killing civilians because Hezbollah is <br>hiding among and firing
from between civilians. If you had any doubt <br>about the Lebanese fighters
hiding between civilians, this Israeli <br>soldier's account from the
Jerusalem Post (very conservative paper <br>as you know) clearly states
otherwise. It clearly states that <br>Hezbollah fighters were firing from the
hills and the valleys while <br>Israeli soldiers were hiding among civilians
in Lebanese houses.<br><br>It is important that the world acknowledges this
fact (we can at <br>least try). So please distribute widely.
<br>_____________________________________________________________________<br>_____________________________________________________________________<br><br>After
three days of training, we crossed the border into Lebanon on <br>foot, a week
ago Sunday, and marched through the night, pushing <br>deeper and deeper into
Hezbollah's backyard. At dawn, after the <br>first long night's march, we
rushed the small village of Quzah in a <br>hail of gunfire, grenades and
missiles, and blew down doors and <br>commandeered homes where we waited out
the day. Our orders were to <br>only move at night.<br><br>We tried to
rest inside the home as best we could, considering the <br>intensity of the
fighting all around us. Heavy artillery being fired <br>from the Israel side
of the border rained around the blocky <br>outcropping of hilltop villas.
Knowing we were in the area but <br>unsure of our precise whereabouts,
Hezbollah operatives in the hills <br>surrounding us launched missiles and
mortars shells randomly into <br>the homes in the village through the night.
Automatic gunfire was <br>everywhere and we had no way of knowing if it was
theirs or ours.<br><br>Early that morning we received horrible news over the
radio: in a <br>village half a mile to our east, an advanced anti-tank missile
was <br>launched into a window of a home where a unit we had been working
<br>with in parallel was hunkered down. The result was devastating; nine
<br>killed, forty wounded.<br><br>....We remained in that bombed out village
for two nights, all the <br>while taking mortar shells and hostile gunfire
into the windows of <br>the homes. You could hear the whistle of the mortars
as they came <br>down, and you could do absolutely nothing but sit on the
floor and <br>hope that it would not fall in your lap. It sounded as if
Cadillacs <br>were being catapulted into the village and the explosions shook
the <br>already shaky building and chunks of red-hot shrapnel rained down in
<br>the streets. At night, we left the houses and commandeered different
<br>homes so that Hezbollah would not zero in on our exact positions. We
<br>monitored their radio transmissions and heard them directing their
<br>fire to where they thought we were. We slept in one-hour stretches, <br>if
at all. <br><br><br>Excerpts from the Jerusalem
Post:<br><a href="http://blogcentral.jpost.com/newsItems/viewFullItem$1183" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://blogcentral.jpost.com/newsItems/viewFullItem$1183</a><br><br>The
full article below:<br><br>August 15, 2006; 4:16:26 AM. <br>Lone Soldier: War.
Posted by LONE SOLDIER. <br><br>After being called to emergency reserve duty
two weeks ago and much <br>indecision on the part of the officers of how we
would be utilized <br>in the raging conflict, my unit was assigned a
complicated mission. <br>We were to penetrate some ten kilometers into
Lebanon and root out <br>and engage Hezbollah guerrillas that were
concentrated in bunkers on <br>a mountain slope facing northern Israel.
Intelligence and aerial <br>photographs described a site that was heavily
fortified and defended <br>by several cells of well-trained and equipped
jihadists. Despite a <br>sustained aerial bombardment by the air force,
Katyusha rockets <br>continued to be launched from the area into Haifa,
Nahariya, Tzfat. <br>The decision was made that the launchers could only be
destroyed and <br>the guerrillas eliminated by ground troops. The problematic
nature <br>of the action foreboded heavy casualties on our side. It's like
<br>trying to pull a rattlesnake out of its hole without getting bitten.
<br>Mine is a demolition unit, so the mission fell on us. I was honored <br>to
be the heavy gunner that would be on the point team.<br><br>After three days
of training, we crossed the border into Lebanon on <br>foot, a week ago
Sunday, and marched through the night, pushing <br>deeper and deeper into
Hezbollah's backyard. At dawn, after the <br>first long night's march, we
rushed the small village of Quzah in a <br>hail of gunfire, grenades and
missiles, and blew down doors and <br>commandeered homes where we waited out
the day. Our orders were to <br>only move at night.<br><br>We tried to
rest inside the home as best we could, considering the <br>intensity of the
fighting all around us. Heavy artillery being fired <br>from the Israel side
of the border rained around the blocky <br>outcropping of hilltop villas.
Knowing we were in the area but <br>unsure of our precise whereabouts,
Hezbollah operatives in the hills <br>surrounding us launched missiles and
mortars shells randomly into <br>the homes in the village through the night.
Automatic gunfire was <br>everywhere and we had no way of knowing if it was
theirs or ours.<br><br>Early that morning we received horrible news over the
radio: in a <br>village half a mile to our east, an advanced anti-tank missile
was <br>launched into a window of a home where a unit we had been working
<br>with in parallel was hunkered down. The result was devastating; nine
<br>killed, forty wounded. We had been with those guys hours before,
<br>sipping Turkish coffee around the buses before we crossed over the
<br>border. Now we heard their cries for assistance over the radio.<br><br>Our
initial objective was delayed as we were ordered to take up <br>positions on a
hillside in order to secure the evacuation of the <br>dead and wounded under
the cover of darkness back into Israel. In <br>the hours just before dawn, we
assaulted the village again and <br>entered into the homes where we laid on
the bathroom floor and in <br>other rooms that did not have exterior walls.
Quzah would be our <br>home for two long days and nights.<br><br>In daylight
hours, we peered out the kitchen window at a valley to <br>the east of us and
watched as volleys of Katyushas were launched <br>from the brush into northern
Israel to our south. It was surreal <br>seeing the Israeli towns across the
border from the same perspective <br>as the enemy. It was terrible. It was
beautiful.<br><br>We did our best to direct the artillery cells and the F16s
to the <br>precise positions, calling in coordinates as we peered out of the
<br>wreckage of previously shelled homes. If we saw a missile battery <br>that
was close enough, we crawled into the streets and fired our own <br>rockets
into the brush. The valley was bombarded relentlessly by <br>artillery shells,
the cannons systematically sweeping the area, <br>tearing up huge swaths of
earth. Every so often a shell would strike <br>something hidden amongst the
trees and a secondary explosion would <br>erupt and missiles would fly from
the brush in all directions like <br>fireworks on the fourth of July. The
secondary explosions were <br>identified by us, and by pilot-less aircraft
patrolling the skies; <br>we zeroed in, and F16s swooped in, dropping massive
bombs. We <br>watched as huge silent explosions left moon sized craters, and
<br>moments later the sound and the concussion would hit us. It was as <br>if
the atmosphere would rip in the tremendous blasts, shaking the <br>homes
violently.<br><br>We remained in that bombed out village for two nights, all
the while <br>taking mortar shells and hostile gunfire into the windows of the
<br>homes. You could hear the whistle of the mortars as they came down,
<br>and you could do absolutely nothing but sit on the floor and hope <br>that
it would not fall in your lap. It sounded as if Cadillacs were <br>being
catapulted into the village and the explosions shook the <br>already shaky
building and chunks of red-hot shrapnel rained down in <br>the streets. At
night, we left the houses and commandeered different <br>homes so that
Hezbollah would not zero in on our exact positions. We <br>monitored their
radio transmissions and heard them directing their <br>fire to where they
thought we were. We slept in one-hour stretches, <br>if at all. <br><br>After
the last of the casualties was evacuated from the adjacent <br>village- an
excruciatingly slow process in which another one of our <br>tanks was hit and
four more precious soldiers lost - we left the <br>village and continued on
our march deeper into Lebanon.<br><br>After two nights of hard treks through
impossibly difficult terrain, <br>we arrived to a hillside a few kilometers
from our objective. <br>Different units commandeered small villages along our
route and <br>provided cover for us as Hezbollah cells fired on us from the
<br>hillsides. The artillery was constant, pounding any structures that
<br>were along our path a kilometer before we would arrive.<br><br>As planned,
we arrived to a hillside where we waited amongst the <br>scorched brush and
shattered terraces for supply helicopters that <br>were to come and drop off
water and additional explosives that we <br>would use to destroy the bunkers.
After receiving the supplies, we <br>were to continue making progress on
foot to execute our mission. We <br>were exhausted, filthy, but happy for the
brief opportunity to drop <br>our>packs. And then, the
unthinkable.<br><br>The helicopters arrived gloriously, six of them, flying
low over our <br>heads. We had thought the area was relatively secure
and the <br>helicopters landed in a field maybe two hundred yards from where
we <br>sat behind boulders. After making their drops, the helicopters
<br>roared away again one by one towards Israel, again flying low,
<br>directly overhead. Suddenly, as if in a dream, I saw a rocket rise <br>up
out of a field maybe a hundred yards to the left of us. It took <br>me a
moment to realize what was happening. To my horror, the missile <br>struck the
fourth helicopter's left side, maybe 40 feet directly <br>over my head.
There was a huge fireball, and I don't know if I saw <br>it or if I imagined
it, but I pictured the pilot struggling with the <br>controls. We thought the
helicopter would crash down on us and there <br>were a few moments of
indescribable terror, but the crippled <br>aircraft flew another 50 yards,
turned over on its side and fell <br>onto the hillside. There was a mushroom
cloud of black smoke that <br>enveloped a huge orange ball of fire as the
helicopter exploded. I <br>don't remember if I heard the explosion, I just
remember my captain <br>next to me in the bush saying, "my God, my
God."<br><br>Immediately, Hezbollah mortar shells began to rain down on our
<br>position and we dove for cover as the earth boiled around us. The
<br>remaining helicopters banked away and flew off, shooting off decoy
<br>flares. A second land-to-air missile rocket narrowly missed a Black
<br>Hawk that arrived to survey the scene of the crash. It too deployed
<br>decoy flares and swooped away. Heavy gunfire ripped through the
<br>pitch-black night, but I was uncertain if it was theirs or ours. I <br>saw
from where the missile came but couldn't shoot for fear of <br>hitting one of
our own in the darkness. This continued for many <br>hours, and when the
barrage ceased we retreated back into the <br>valley, leaving a small force in
the area to search for and watch <br>over the wreckage of the helicopter.
Hezbollah was sure to try to <br>take the remains of the pilot and crew for
ransom.<br><br>Later, we learned that five of the helicopter's crew died in
the <br>crash. The loss was more than any of us could bear, but we
<br>considered ourselves fortunate. The helicopter was struck after it <br>had
made its drop. Minutes before, it had been full with some thirty
<br>soldiers.<br><br>Because of the crash, we did not receive the supplies as
planned, a <br>serious development considering that we were down to out last
<br>canteens of water. In the few frantic hours before daylight, planes
<br>parachuted crates of water to us, but we were unable to find them in
<br>the rough terrain, and as dawn broke we retreated back to our <br>previous
positions before the Hezbollah snipers and mortar men <br>emerged from their
bunkers.<br><br>We quickly hollowed out and entered into bushes and waited for
night <br>to come. To sleep was impossible. I was struggling against
<br>exhaustion and dehydration following the previous night's frantic
<br>search for the supplies. I had slept maybe four hours in previous <br>four
days and the constant burden of the heavy machine gun I carried <br>and my
battle vest with some thousand rounds of ammunition had taken <br>its toll. I
received two saline infusions in the bush and tried to <br>eat from the few
battle rations that remained but was unable to keep <br>anything down. Most of
day, three other soldiers and I sat in <br>silence, unable to sleep, each
absorbed in his own thoughts, <br>resigning himself to a singular and
unforeseeable fate. Some day I <br>will find the words to describe the
thoughts that go through your <br>head under such circumstances. To try
now would be futile.<br><br>When dusk fell, we again geared up. The officers
were determined to <br>carry out the mission without further delay, but we
were down to our <br>last drops of water. Over the radio we learned that the
bodies of <br>the helicopter crew had been recovered. The officers decided to
<br>divide the unit into two task forces; one to evacuate the wounded
<br>amongst us: three soldiers who had broken or sprained ankles and <br>legs
in the previous days' frantic marches over the harsh terrain. <br>They would
be airlifted along with the remains of the helicopter <br>crew back into
Israeli territory. The second unit was to search for <br>the water that had
been dropped from airplanes the night before. <br>After, we were to reunite
and make our final push to the mountain <br>slope to put an end to the firing
of rockets from that area into our <br>cities in the north.<br><br>I was
placed in the squad to evacuate the wounded, and as we made <br>our way to the
landing site carrying the stretchers, a call came <br>over the radio. A
General Staff order was made to all forces <br>operating in the area:
immediately stop all proactive measures in <br>observance of a cease-fire, a
cease fire that we had no idea was <br>even in the works. Just like that, the
war was suddenly over, for <br>now.<br><br>With news of the end of
hostilities, the decision was made to <br>evacuate me in my weakened state
along with the wounded. Again, I <br>found myself in the same area where I
watched a helicopter shot down <br>the night before, preparing to board a
helicopter myself. The Black <br>Hawk emerged from the black depths of the
valley below us. As soon <br>as it landed we ran to it, carrying the
stretchers and the sacks <br>with the remains of the dead. We dove inside and
immediately the <br>helicopter rose sharply and banked away, shooting flares
from its <br>sides to act as decoys for incoming rockets. I found myself lying
<br>amongst the dead and injured as the flight crew trampled over us. I
<br>could only see the fire from the flares and could have no idea if <br>the
extreme banking of the helicopter was a defensive measure or if <br>we had
been hit. After a few moments of terrifying uncertainty <br>thinking we
would hit the ground at any second, the helicopter <br>leveled off and we rose
sharply out of the range of any Hezbollah <br>rockets and flew back into
Israel.<br><br>I was released from the hospital a few hours ago after being
treated <br>for severe dehydration and exhaustion. I just wanted to let
<br>everybody know that I am fine. Sorry if I made you guys worry too
<br>much.<br><br>Send your comments on this blog to:
<br><a href="http://info.jpost.com/C005/BlogCentral/contact.html" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://info.jpost.com/C005/BlogCentral/contact.html</a>
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</span></div><br><br></span></div><div><span class="e" id="q_10d1a6eea8c9dee3_1">---------- Forwarded message ----------<br>From: "madona_m" <<a href="mailto:madona_m@yahoo.com" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">
madona_m@yahoo.com</a>><br>To: <a href="mailto:aastudies@yahoogroups.com" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">aastudies@yahoogroups.com
</a><br>Date: Thu, 17 Aug 2006 01:18:44 -0000<br>Subject: [aastudies] Jerusalem Post: War - a soldier's first hand account<br>Please read this article. If you do not have time please read the<br>three paragraphs I have pasted below. Israel and the
U.S. have<br>maintained that they are killing civilians because Hezbollah is<br>hiding among and firing from between civilians. If you had any doubt<br>about the Lebanese fighters hiding between civilians, this Israeli<br>
soldier's account from the Jerusalem Post (very conservative paper<br>as you know) clearly states otherwise. It clearly states that<br>Hezbollah fighters were firing from the hills and the valleys while<br>Israeli soldiers were hiding among civilians in Lebanese houses.
<br><br>It is important that the world acknowledges this fact (we can at<br>least try). So please distribute widely.<br>_____________________________________________________________________<br>_____________________________________________________________________
<br><br>After three days of training, we crossed the border into Lebanon on<br>foot, a week ago Sunday, and marched through the night, pushing<br>deeper and deeper into Hezbollah's backyard. At dawn, after the<br>first long night's march, we rushed the small village of Quzah in a
<br>hail of gunfire, grenades and missiles, and blew down doors and<br>commandeered homes where we waited out the day. Our orders were to<br>only move at night.<br><br>We tried to rest inside the home as best we could, considering the
<br>intensity of the fighting all around us. Heavy artillery being fired<br>from the Israel side of the border rained around the blocky<br>outcropping of hilltop villas. Knowing we were in the area but<br>unsure of our precise whereabouts, Hezbollah operatives in the hills
<br>surrounding us launched missiles and mortars shells randomly into<br>the homes in the village through the night. Automatic gunfire was<br>everywhere and we had no way of knowing if it was theirs or ours.<br><br>Early that morning we received horrible news over the radio: in a
<br>village half a mile to our east, an advanced anti-tank missile was<br>launched into a window of a home where a unit we had been working<br>with in parallel was hunkered down. The result was devastating; nine<br>killed, forty wounded.
<br><br>....We remained in that bombed out village for two nights, all the<br>while taking mortar shells and hostile gunfire into the windows of<br>the homes. You could hear the whistle of the mortars as they came<br>down, and you could do absolutely nothing but sit on the floor and
<br>hope that it would not fall in your lap. It sounded as if Cadillacs<br>were being catapulted into the village and the explosions shook the<br>already shaky building and chunks of red-hot shrapnel rained down in<br>the streets. At night, we left the houses and commandeered different
<br>homes so that Hezbollah would not zero in on our exact positions. We<br>monitored their radio transmissions and heard them directing their<br>fire to where they thought we were. We slept in one-hour stretches,<br>if at all.
<br><br><br>Excerpts from the Jerusalem Post:<br><a href="http://blogcentral.jpost.com/newsItems/viewFullItem$1183" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://blogcentral.jpost.com/newsItems/viewFullItem$1183
</a><br><br>The full article below:<br><br>August 15, 2006; 4:16:26 AM.<br>Lone Soldier: War. Posted by LONE SOLDIER.<br><br>After being called to emergency reserve duty two weeks ago and much<br>indecision on the part of the officers of how we would be utilized
<br>in the raging conflict, my unit was assigned a complicated mission.<br>We were to penetrate some ten kilometers into Lebanon and root out<br>and engage Hezbollah guerrillas that were concentrated in bunkers on<br>a mountain slope facing northern Israel. Intelligence and aerial
<br>photographs described a site that was heavily fortified and defended<br>by several cells of well-trained and equipped jihadists. Despite a<br>sustained aerial bombardment by the air force, Katyusha rockets<br>continued to be launched from the area into Haifa, Nahariya, Tzfat.
<br>The decision was made that the launchers could only be destroyed and<br>the guerrillas eliminated by ground troops. The problematic nature<br>of the action foreboded heavy casualties on our side. It's like<br>trying to pull a rattlesnake out of its hole without getting bitten.
<br>Mine is a demolition unit, so the mission fell on us. I was honored<br>to be the heavy gunner that would be on the point team.<br><br>After three days of training, we crossed the border into Lebanon on<br>foot, a week ago Sunday, and marched through the night, pushing
<br>deeper and deeper into Hezbollah's backyard. At dawn, after the<br>first long night's march, we rushed the small village of Quzah in a<br>hail of gunfire, grenades and missiles, and blew down doors and<br>commandeered homes where we waited out the day. Our orders were to
<br>only move at night.<br><br>We tried to rest inside the home as best we could, considering the<br>intensity of the fighting all around us. Heavy artillery being fired<br>from the Israel side of the border rained around the blocky
<br>outcropping of hilltop villas. Knowing we were in the area but<br>unsure of our precise whereabouts, Hezbollah operatives in the hills<br>surrounding us launched missiles and mortars shells randomly into<br>the homes in the village through the night. Automatic gunfire was
<br>everywhere and we had no way of knowing if it was theirs or ours.<br><br>Early that morning we received horrible news over the radio: in a<br>village half a mile to our east, an advanced anti-tank missile was<br>launched into a window of a home where a unit we had been working
<br>with in parallel was hunkered down. The result was devastating; nine<br>killed, forty wounded. We had been with those guys hours before,<br>sipping Turkish coffee around the buses before we crossed over the<br>border. Now we heard their cries for assistance over the radio.
<br><br>Our initial objective was delayed as we were ordered to take up<br>positions on a hillside in order to secure the evacuation of the<br>dead and wounded under the cover of darkness back into Israel. In<br>the hours just before dawn, we assaulted the village again and
<br>entered into the homes where we laid on the bathroom floor and in<br>other rooms that did not have exterior walls. Quzah would be our<br>home for two long days and nights.<br><br>In daylight hours, we peered out the kitchen window at a valley to
<br>the east of us and watched as volleys of Katyushas were launched<br>from the brush into northern Israel to our south. It was surreal<br>seeing the Israeli towns across the border from the same perspective<br>as the enemy. It was terrible. It was beautiful.
<br><br>We did our best to direct the artillery cells and the F16s to the<br>precise positions, calling in coordinates as we peered out of the<br>wreckage of previously shelled homes. If we saw a missile battery<br>that was close enough, we crawled into the streets and fired our own
<br>rockets into the brush. The valley was bombarded relentlessly by<br>artillery shells, the cannons systematically sweeping the area,<br>tearing up huge swaths of earth. Every so often a shell would strike<br>something hidden amongst the trees and a secondary explosion would
<br>erupt and missiles would fly from the brush in all directions like<br>fireworks on the fourth of July. The secondary explosions were<br>identified by us, and by pilot-less aircraft patrolling the skies;<br>we zeroed in, and F16s swooped in, dropping massive bombs. We
<br>watched as huge silent explosions left moon sized craters, and<br>moments later the sound and the concussion would hit us. It was as<br>if the atmosphere would rip in the tremendous blasts, shaking the<br>homes violently.
<br><br>We remained in that bombed out village for two nights, all the while<br>taking mortar shells and hostile gunfire into the windows of the<br>homes. You could hear the whistle of the mortars as they came down,<br>and you could do absolutely nothing but sit on the floor and hope
<br>that it would not fall in your lap. It sounded as if Cadillacs were<br>being catapulted into the village and the explosions shook the<br>already shaky building and chunks of red-hot shrapnel rained down in<br>the streets. At night, we left the houses and commandeered different
<br>homes so that Hezbollah would not zero in on our exact positions. We<br>monitored their radio transmissions and heard them directing their<br>fire to where they thought we were. We slept in one-hour stretches,<br>if at all.
<br><br>After the last of the casualties was evacuated from the adjacent<br>village- an excruciatingly slow process in which another one of our<br>tanks was hit and four more precious soldiers lost - we left the<br>village and continued on our march deeper into Lebanon.
<br><br>After two nights of hard treks through impossibly difficult terrain,<br>we arrived to a hillside a few kilometers from our objective.<br>Different units commandeered small villages along our route and<br>provided cover for us as Hezbollah cells fired on us from the
<br>hillsides. The artillery was constant, pounding any structures that<br>were along our path a kilometer before we would arrive.<br><br>As planned, we arrived to a hillside where we waited amongst the<br>scorched brush and shattered terraces for supply helicopters that
<br>were to come and drop off water and additional explosives that we<br>would use to destroy the bunkers. After receiving the supplies, we<br>were to continue making progress on foot to execute our mission. We<br>were exhausted, filthy, but happy for the brief opportunity to drop
<br>our>packs. And then, the unthinkable.<br><br>The helicopters arrived gloriously, six of them, flying low over our<br>heads. We had thought the area was relatively secure and the<br>helicopters landed in a field maybe two hundred yards from where we
<br>sat behind boulders. After making their drops, the helicopters<br>roared away again one by one towards Israel, again flying low,<br>directly overhead. Suddenly, as if in a dream, I saw a rocket rise<br>up out of a field maybe a hundred yards to the left of us. It took
<br>me a moment to realize what was happening. To my horror, the missile<br>struck the fourth helicopter's left side, maybe 40 feet directly<br>over my head. There was a huge fireball, and I don't know if I saw<br>it or if I imagined it, but I pictured the pilot struggling with the
<br>controls. We thought the helicopter would crash down on us and there<br>were a few moments of indescribable terror, but the crippled<br>aircraft flew another 50 yards, turned over on its side and fell<br>onto the hillside. There was a mushroom cloud of black smoke that
<br>enveloped a huge orange ball of fire as the helicopter exploded. I<br>don't remember if I heard the explosion, I just remember my captain<br>next to me in the bush saying, "my God, my God."<br><br>Immediately, Hezbollah mortar shells began to rain down on our
<br>position and we dove for cover as the earth boiled around us. The<br>remaining helicopters banked away and flew off, shooting off decoy<br>flares. A second land-to-air missile rocket narrowly missed a Black<br>Hawk that arrived to survey the scene of the crash. It too deployed
<br>decoy flares and swooped away. Heavy gunfire ripped through the<br>pitch-black night, but I was uncertain if it was theirs or ours. I<br>saw from where the missile came but couldn't shoot for fear of<br>hitting one of our own in the darkness. This continued for many
<br>hours, and when the barrage ceased we retreated back into the<br>valley, leaving a small force in the area to search for and watch<br>over the wreckage of the helicopter. Hezbollah was sure to try to<br>take the remains of the pilot and crew for ransom.
<br><br>Later, we learned that five of the helicopter's crew died in the<br>crash. The loss was more than any of us could bear, but we<br>considered ourselves fortunate. The helicopter was struck after it<br>had made its drop. Minutes before, it had been full with some thirty
<br>soldiers.<br><br>Because of the crash, we did not receive the supplies as planned, a<br>serious development considering that we were down to out last<br>canteens of water. In the few frantic hours before daylight, planes
<br>parachuted crates of water to us, but we were unable to find them in<br>the rough terrain, and as dawn broke we retreated back to our<br>previous positions before the Hezbollah snipers and mortar men<br>emerged from their bunkers.
<br><br>We quickly hollowed out and entered into bushes and waited for night<br>to come. To sleep was impossible. I was struggling against<br>exhaustion and dehydration following the previous night's frantic<br>search for the supplies. I had slept maybe four hours in previous
<br>four days and the constant burden of the heavy machine gun I carried<br>and my battle vest with some thousand rounds of ammunition had taken<br>its toll. I received two saline infusions in the bush and tried to<br>eat from the few battle rations that remained but was unable to keep
<br>anything down. Most of day, three other soldiers and I sat in<br>silence, unable to sleep, each absorbed in his own thoughts,<br>resigning himself to a singular and unforeseeable fate. Some day I<br>will find the words to describe the thoughts that go through your
<br>head under such circumstances. To try now would be futile.<br><br>When dusk fell, we again geared up. The officers were determined to<br>carry out the mission without further delay, but we were down to our<br>last drops of water. Over the radio we learned that the bodies of
<br>the helicopter crew had been recovered. The officers decided to<br>divide the unit into two task forces; one to evacuate the wounded<br>amongst us: three soldiers who had broken or sprained ankles and<br>legs in the previous days' frantic marches over the harsh terrain.
<br>They would be airlifted along with the remains of the helicopter<br>crew back into Israeli territory. The second unit was to search for<br>the water that had been dropped from airplanes the night before.<br>After, we were to reunite and make our final push to the mountain
<br>slope to put an end to the firing of rockets from that area into our<br>cities in the north.<br><br>I was placed in the squad to evacuate the wounded, and as we made<br>our way to the landing site carrying the stretchers, a call came
<br>over the radio. A General Staff order was made to all forces<br>operating in the area: immediately stop all proactive measures in<br>observance of a cease-fire, a cease fire that we had no idea was<br>even in the works. Just like that, the war was suddenly over, for
<br>now.<br><br>With news of the end of hostilities, the decision was made to<br>evacuate me in my weakened state along with the wounded. Again, I<br>found myself in the same area where I watched a helicopter shot down<br>
the night before, preparing to board a helicopter myself. The Black<br>Hawk emerged from the black depths of the valley below us. As soon<br>as it landed we ran to it, carrying the stretchers and the sacks<br>with the remains of the dead. We dove inside and immediately the
<br>helicopter rose sharply and banked away, shooting flares from its<br>sides to act as decoys for incoming rockets. I found myself lying<br>amongst the dead and injured as the flight crew trampled over us. I<br>could only see the fire from the flares and could have no idea if
<br>the extreme banking of the helicopter was a defensive measure or if<br>we had been hit. After a few moments of terrifying uncertainty<br>thinking we would hit the ground at any second, the helicopter<br>leveled off and we rose sharply out of the range of any Hezbollah
<br>rockets and flew back into Israel.<br><br>I was released from the hospital a few hours ago after being treated<br>for severe dehydration and exhaustion. I just wanted to let<br>everybody know that I am fine. Sorry if I made you guys worry too
<br>much.<br><br>Send your comments on this blog to:<br><a href="http://info.jpost.com/C005/BlogCentral/contact.html" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://info.jpost.com/C005/BlogCentral/contact.html
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