I was looking through the pictures posted on the March of the Living website and listening to the Song of the Partisans ?Zog Nit Keinmol?, which my wife?s cousin, Faigie Libman, who had just completed the March of the Living, had sung for us at Kiddush that afternoon. She told us of her experiences in the concentration camps as a young girl during the Holocaust. I played it in the background as I confronted the horrors of the Holocaust, feeling enormous pride in the Vilna resistance (much of my family is from Vilna). I reflected on our survival against all odds and on the miracles that happen around us everyday, when suddenly I heard automatic gunfire.
I bolted out of my house to get a better look at what was going on and realized, as I was cocking my Glock 9mm pistol, that a bare foot guy in his boxer shorts armed with only a pistol (yes, I always carry a pistol, even while in my boxers) wasn?t much of a match for whoever was shooting the heavy volume of fire coming from up the hill. I hastily returned to my house, ran upstairs and changed clothes. While suiting up, I dialed my squad commander Avi?s phone number, all the while explaining to my wife Wendy that ?this is not a drill!?
I quickly dressed, grabbed my reflective security hat and my military issue M16 rifle and ran out the door. Just like all other members of our community?s First Response Team, I?m issued no ceramic bulletproof vest, no Kevlar helmet, no radio, no flashlight, no uniform, no knife, no telescopic sight - just an M16 rifle, extra ammunition and a security hat.
I ran up the hill toward the sound of gunfire, cutting through yards, jumping fences, along the way, via cel-phone, I told my commander, neighbor, and friend, Avi, where I was headed and what I was doing. I reached an area in a backyard, just 10 meters from the other security forces that were already in the area and shouted to them that I was approaching. I was told to close off my side of the area, to close the circle and prevent the infiltrators from escaping.
As I stood at my post with the tracer rounds pouring through the air all around me, it hit me like a thunderbolt.
Only Nazis would break into a quiet Shomron community to murder innocent civilians only because they are Jews. They are trying to exterminate my family, my community, my friends and neighbors only because we are Jews! It?s been over 55 years since the Holocaust ended and the State of Israel was founded. While young Israelis question why Jews stood in line to be killed, these same young Israelis stand in line to get on a bus knowing that they may be blown up. Yet these proud Israelis are doing nothing. We are attacked daily. These 21st century Arab Nazis attempt to exterminate us while they meet with the Prime Minister. Would the partisans have stood for this?
The new Fuhrer, Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas (also known as Abu Mazen, although why he needs an alias is beyond me), denies the Holocaust, and received a doctorate using a thesis that alleged the number of Jewish victims in WWII was ?only? a few hundred thousand. Over six million of our relatives were brutally exterminated and this two-faced, two-named, 21st Century Nazi has the audacity to dishonor their memories. To send his storm-trooper terrorists to my home! While I am in the middle of a firefight, the Nazi?s so-called security chief is simultaneously meeting with PM Ariel Sharon to discuss ?security arrangements?. You don?t meet with Nazis! You don?t discuss security arrangements with the head of the Gestapo!
The firefight continued for almost an hour and during the entire time I stood my ground, as the partisans had, determined that it would go no further into my community. I knew that if the Nazi Arab terrorists managed to escape in my direction, then I would be required to stop them, to keep them from their twisted goal of murdering our people, just as the F.P.O. had. I stood there, my rifle at ready, adrenaline pumping through my body, and all of the time humming the tune.
We heard, over the din of the helicopters, the smoke from the firefight, and the shouting of friendly forces, that the two terrorists were dead, and that we needed to perform a house-to-house search, to see if any more terrorists were hiding out in back yards, tool sheds or in our neighbors? homes. We moved from house to house, knocking on doors, checking the welfare of our neighbors. After about two hours of searching, we had checked every house in the area, and were given the word that it was all over. Thank G-d, only one of ours was injured tonight and that was due to a fall, not the Nazi Arab terrorists. As we walked towards my house, Avi asked me ?what is that tune you have been humming??
I realized that I was still humming the Partisan song:
Zog nit keynmol az du gayst dem letzten veg,
Ven himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg;
Vayl kumen vet noch undzer oysgebenkte shuh,
Es vet a poyk tun undzer trot - mir zaynen do!
Fun grinem palmenland biz land fun vaysen shney,
Mir kumen un mit undzer payn, mit undzer vey;
Un voo gefalen iz a shpritz fun undzer blut,
Shpritzen vet dort undzer gvure, undzer mut.
Es vet di morgenzun bagilden undz dem haynt,
Un der nechten vet farshvinden mitn faynt;
Nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in dem ka-yor,
Vi a parol zol geyn dos leed fun door tzu door.
Geshriben iz dos leed mit blut und nit mit bly,
S'iz nit keyn leedl fun a foygel oyf der fry;
Dos hut a folk tzvishen falendi-ke vent,
Dos leed gezungen mit naganes in di hent.
Zog nit keyn mol az du gayst dem letzten veg,
Ven himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg;
Kumen vet noch undzer oysgebenkte shuh,
Es vet a poyk tun undzer trot -- mir zaynen do!
(Never say this is the final road for you,
Thought leaden skies may cover days of blue.
As the hour that we longed for is so near.
Our step beats out the message -- we are here!
From lands so green with palms to lands all white with snow.
We shall be coming with our anguish and our woe,
And where a spurt of our blood fell on the earth,
There are courage and our spirit have rebirth.
The early morning sun will brighten our day,
And yesterday with our foe will fade away.
But if the sun delays and in the east remains--
This song as password generations must remain.
This song was written with out blood and not with ink,
It's not a little tune that birds sing overhead,
This song a people sang amid collapsing walls,
With grenades in hands they heeded to the call.
Therefore never say the road now ends for you,
Though leadened skies may cover days of blue.
As the hour that we longed for is so near,
Our step beats out the message -- we are here!)
As the 21st century Nazis are trying to exterminate us, to drive us from the only home in the world that is truly ours, I am instinctively singing the song of the resistance from the Vilna ghetto.
This is our land, and after 2000 years of exile we are finally home. As the song goes: ?We are here!?
--------------------------------------------------------
Adam Halley lives with his wife and four children in Sha'arei Tikvah, Israel. Adam is a Certified IS Trainer and Network Systems Engineer, and currently works in the hi-tech sector. You can contact Adam through his website http://AdamHalley.on.to.
I bolted out of my house to get a better look at what was going on and realized, as I was cocking my Glock 9mm pistol, that a bare foot guy in his boxer shorts armed with only a pistol (yes, I always carry a pistol, even while in my boxers) wasn?t much of a match for whoever was shooting the heavy volume of fire coming from up the hill. I hastily returned to my house, ran upstairs and changed clothes. While suiting up, I dialed my squad commander Avi?s phone number, all the while explaining to my wife Wendy that ?this is not a drill!?
I quickly dressed, grabbed my reflective security hat and my military issue M16 rifle and ran out the door. Just like all other members of our community?s First Response Team, I?m issued no ceramic bulletproof vest, no Kevlar helmet, no radio, no flashlight, no uniform, no knife, no telescopic sight - just an M16 rifle, extra ammunition and a security hat.
I ran up the hill toward the sound of gunfire, cutting through yards, jumping fences, along the way, via cel-phone, I told my commander, neighbor, and friend, Avi, where I was headed and what I was doing. I reached an area in a backyard, just 10 meters from the other security forces that were already in the area and shouted to them that I was approaching. I was told to close off my side of the area, to close the circle and prevent the infiltrators from escaping.
As I stood at my post with the tracer rounds pouring through the air all around me, it hit me like a thunderbolt.
Only Nazis would break into a quiet Shomron community to murder innocent civilians only because they are Jews. They are trying to exterminate my family, my community, my friends and neighbors only because we are Jews! It?s been over 55 years since the Holocaust ended and the State of Israel was founded. While young Israelis question why Jews stood in line to be killed, these same young Israelis stand in line to get on a bus knowing that they may be blown up. Yet these proud Israelis are doing nothing. We are attacked daily. These 21st century Arab Nazis attempt to exterminate us while they meet with the Prime Minister. Would the partisans have stood for this?
The new Fuhrer, Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas (also known as Abu Mazen, although why he needs an alias is beyond me), denies the Holocaust, and received a doctorate using a thesis that alleged the number of Jewish victims in WWII was ?only? a few hundred thousand. Over six million of our relatives were brutally exterminated and this two-faced, two-named, 21st Century Nazi has the audacity to dishonor their memories. To send his storm-trooper terrorists to my home! While I am in the middle of a firefight, the Nazi?s so-called security chief is simultaneously meeting with PM Ariel Sharon to discuss ?security arrangements?. You don?t meet with Nazis! You don?t discuss security arrangements with the head of the Gestapo!
The firefight continued for almost an hour and during the entire time I stood my ground, as the partisans had, determined that it would go no further into my community. I knew that if the Nazi Arab terrorists managed to escape in my direction, then I would be required to stop them, to keep them from their twisted goal of murdering our people, just as the F.P.O. had. I stood there, my rifle at ready, adrenaline pumping through my body, and all of the time humming the tune.
We heard, over the din of the helicopters, the smoke from the firefight, and the shouting of friendly forces, that the two terrorists were dead, and that we needed to perform a house-to-house search, to see if any more terrorists were hiding out in back yards, tool sheds or in our neighbors? homes. We moved from house to house, knocking on doors, checking the welfare of our neighbors. After about two hours of searching, we had checked every house in the area, and were given the word that it was all over. Thank G-d, only one of ours was injured tonight and that was due to a fall, not the Nazi Arab terrorists. As we walked towards my house, Avi asked me ?what is that tune you have been humming??
I realized that I was still humming the Partisan song:
Zog nit keynmol az du gayst dem letzten veg,
Ven himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg;
Vayl kumen vet noch undzer oysgebenkte shuh,
Es vet a poyk tun undzer trot - mir zaynen do!
Fun grinem palmenland biz land fun vaysen shney,
Mir kumen un mit undzer payn, mit undzer vey;
Un voo gefalen iz a shpritz fun undzer blut,
Shpritzen vet dort undzer gvure, undzer mut.
Es vet di morgenzun bagilden undz dem haynt,
Un der nechten vet farshvinden mitn faynt;
Nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in dem ka-yor,
Vi a parol zol geyn dos leed fun door tzu door.
Geshriben iz dos leed mit blut und nit mit bly,
S'iz nit keyn leedl fun a foygel oyf der fry;
Dos hut a folk tzvishen falendi-ke vent,
Dos leed gezungen mit naganes in di hent.
Zog nit keyn mol az du gayst dem letzten veg,
Ven himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg;
Kumen vet noch undzer oysgebenkte shuh,
Es vet a poyk tun undzer trot -- mir zaynen do!
(Never say this is the final road for you,
Thought leaden skies may cover days of blue.
As the hour that we longed for is so near.
Our step beats out the message -- we are here!
From lands so green with palms to lands all white with snow.
We shall be coming with our anguish and our woe,
And where a spurt of our blood fell on the earth,
There are courage and our spirit have rebirth.
The early morning sun will brighten our day,
And yesterday with our foe will fade away.
But if the sun delays and in the east remains--
This song as password generations must remain.
This song was written with out blood and not with ink,
It's not a little tune that birds sing overhead,
This song a people sang amid collapsing walls,
With grenades in hands they heeded to the call.
Therefore never say the road now ends for you,
Though leadened skies may cover days of blue.
As the hour that we longed for is so near,
Our step beats out the message -- we are here!)
As the 21st century Nazis are trying to exterminate us, to drive us from the only home in the world that is truly ours, I am instinctively singing the song of the resistance from the Vilna ghetto.
This is our land, and after 2000 years of exile we are finally home. As the song goes: ?We are here!?
--------------------------------------------------------
Adam Halley lives with his wife and four children in Sha'arei Tikvah, Israel. Adam is a Certified IS Trainer and Network Systems Engineer, and currently works in the hi-tech sector. You can contact Adam through his website http://AdamHalley.on.to.