![]() Tragedy, heroism, and the heart of the IDF
Parents of slain soldiers share stories at E. Windsor synagogue
Sarah Morrison THE JEWISH STATE May 22, 2009
For the parents of Roi Klein and Noam Apter, speaking about the deaths of their children to Americans has helped share their side of the story -- the story of a victim, not of the perpetrator. Klein and Apter both gave their lives to save the lives of others, Klein in the Second Lebanon War and Apter in a terrorist attack. It has been years since their children passed on, and yet, their stories -- which they retold May 18 on the last leg of their three-week U.S. speaking tour with Bnei Akiva of New York and New Jersey -- are no less painful. "I have seen that movie over 25 times in the past two weeks," said Klein's mother, Shoshana, after the screening of the movie "With All Your Soul--The Story of Roi Klein" at Congregation Toras Emes, East Windsor. "I am strong enough to know it is a movie, but it is still difficult, unbearable, and unbelievable." However, years later, their grief serves a greater purpose, having turned their tragedy into an opportunity to educate others about two lives cut short by terrorism. Klein gave his life for his fellow soldiers in July 2006 during the battle of Bint Jbeil when he threw himself on a grenade thrown by terrorists, which landed near where he was treating an injured soldier. Those who witnessed Klein's heroic actions spoke in the documentary of his spontaneous reaction to throw himself over the active grenade, successfully saving the lives of those around him. Klein, who already earned a medal for heroism for a West Bank battle in 2001, gave the ultimate sacrifice this time around. Friends, family, and fellow soldiers reflected on Klein's life throughout the film, remembering him as a religious Zionist who was an active member of the B'nai Akiva Zionist youth movement, a Torah scholar who devoted every spare minute he had to learning, and a dedicated soldier who had the respect and admiration of his fellow soldiers. "He studied all the time," Shoshana said. "He learned Daf Yomi (one page of Gemara a day) whenever he could." Although Klein, an engineering student, was accepted to every university that he applied to, he chose Ariel College so he could learn as much Torah as possible alongside his studies. As a commander of his ranking, Klein was required to have a driver, and he deliberately picked one who would learn Gemara with him as he went around Israel, Shoshana said. "He woke up at 5 a.m. and went until 3 p.m., when he would first start his engineering classes," Shoshana said. "His friends told him not to pick his driver, but he did anyway, for although he was not the best driver, he would study with him." During Klein's last battle, his fellow soldiers were ambushed by terrorists, and one of the soldiers was injured by a blast inside a building. As Klein rushed over to help with other soldiers, an active grenade landed in the building. While Klein said the Shema prayer, he dove onto the grenade, taking the full blast. "After he said the Shema, his last words were 'Ima, Ima (mother, mother),'" Shoshana said about her son. "I wasn't there to help him. This is my task now, to bring his great personality as a soldier, as a commander, as a father, as a husband, and as a son, because it was so special. Such a hero we don't find every day in Jewish life." Klein was 31 years old when he died. He left behind a wife, Sarah, and two young children. Noam Apter, a young student at Yeshivat Otniel in southern Israel, died while saving the lives of 70 other students during a terrorist attack during a traditional Shabbat dinner in 2002. Apter and three other students volunteered to do kitchen duty that night when two heavily armed terrorists snuck into the kitchen and opened fire. The last act of Apter's life was either to lock the doors from the kitchen to the dining hall, delaying the terrorists and giving the students a chance to escape, or grab his gun and try to kill the terrorists. Apter's body was found with his gun out, right next to the locked kitchen door. "To Noam, it was important that the Torah, open to all, should reach all," said his father, Yossi, in an Israeli TV documentary played at the program. "It was appropriate to write a Torah for him during the year of mourning. This Torah is completing the cycle of life just as we are completing the cycle of death." Although Apter qualified for the top levels of the Israeli army, he wished to be modest about his talents, choosing to serve his mandatory three years as a paratrooper. He was known by his fellow soldiers to be easygoing. He spent his free time volunteering at a hostel for the handicapped called Beit Hagalgalim (House of Wheels), making sure every visitor felt welcome and special. "Noam did a lot of kiruv (outreach) during the last year of his life," Yossi explained at the program. "He felt that there was a very hard distance between the secular and the religious in Israel. He thought it was maybe his mission to write on special issues from the Torah, to explain them to all of Israel. The books were never finished. They will be finished soon for him." One of the few projects Apter completed before his passing was a packet on the three-week mourning period between the fasts of 17 Tammuz and Tisha b'Av. He made 10,000 copies and distributed them on buses, in the street, on the train -- wherever he could. Noam encouraged everyone around him, from his friends and his family to his rabbi, to do kiruv with him. Whether it involved educating strangers at the Be'er Sheva central bus station, or encouraging his rabbi to prepare a lecture for secular students at Ben-Gurion University, Apter's infectious passion for kiruv spread anywhere he went. "Noam's friend told us that he and Noam went on a bus from Tel-Aviv to Kiryat Shemona, where Noam spoke with two women from Rosh Pina, a small town outside Kiryat Shemona," Yossi said. "He said, 'this bus ride is one hour, and you have nothing to speak about? Here, I have a wonderful flier!' and gave them his flyer." The last paragraph of the flier read: "Everyone has his own Beit HaMikdash (temple) -- his soul. Sometimes, it's destroyed; sometimes, it's rebuilt. Sometimes, we don't feel our souls exist. We have the ability to rebuild, to fix, our own temple and to check our own lives. Do not let an opportunity for self-introspection pass. Souls aim to be rebuilt and to stand straight in order to be ready for the real Temple." Apter's message did not just touch two secular Israelis on a bus to Kiryat Shemona: it touched the hearts of East Windsor residents Rachel and Barak Moore, who named their son Noam Lev after Apter. "We felt very distraught and very helpless sitting in this country, not being able to do very much to help what was going on in Israel, and there was so much loss," Rachel said. "Barak came to me and said, 'I want to name this baby after someone in Israel. I want to continue their story.' We saw an article about Noam Apter." Rachel said that the most compelling part of the article was the story of a Jewish hero, one not often told in America, where more details on the perpetrator are provided over those who were killed in an attack. "It was obvious for us from that moment that if we had a boy, he'd be Noam," Rachel said. "What was a big surprise to me was when we let the Apters know this, that they reached out to us and they really made an effort to cultivate a relationship with us, and that is something for which we are very, very fortunate." "What does it mean to give a name to someone?" Yossi said. "I feel, although the Moores are 10,000 kilometers away, I feel they are very close… when I hug and kiss him, it's like hugging and kissing my Noam." |