SUZANNE BELLING
PHOTOGRAPH BY SUZANNE BELLING
Pictured:The siddur of life… and the bullet which penetrated it.
He says he is telling his story now to help renew the faith of Jews in miracles and to bolster belief. It has previously been related by Rabbi David Shaw at the Sandton Shul, also on condition of anonymity.
Born in Israel, Moshe came to South Africa as a small child and eventually served in the South African army. Because he felt it was his duty also to serve in the Israeli army, he returned to Israel.
He became part of the Sayeret Matkal, the elite unit attached to the office of the Israeli Chief of Staff, whose soldiers are on call all the time. Its former members include Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
On the day the Yom Kippur War began, Moshe had returned home to Moshav Orot on the road to Ashkelon. Sitting in shul, congregants heard planes warming up at a nearby airfield and the wail of air raid sirens.
He rushed home, switched on the radio, hearing some call-up signals, but his came by telephone and he prepared to go to war. All his equipment had been checked before Yom Kippur, so he was ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
He rechecked everything when he arrived at the pick-up point, especially for his siddur, which he had been given as a barmitzvah present by his late great-uncle Hershke. It was there, in the left breast pocket of his shirt, where he always carried it.
“It gave me a feeling of reassurance that his neshama was around me,” Moshe said. “We were extremely close.”
His unit moved up north to the Golan. Not long after their arrival, enemy helicopters landed behind a nearby hill. Moshe’s unit moved forward under heavy fire, engaging the Syrian troops who had landed with the helicopters.
“Halfway up the hill, their fire began hitting us as we continued moving forward, running and shooting, without stopping for cover,” he said.
“Grenades came flying at us and I hit the ground, but was up again after reloading my weapon.
“As we broached the top of the hill, we started throwing grenades, putting an end to their attack.”
The area was full of boulders and trenches. About 25 Syrian commandos lay dead.
“Every now and then, we could see a movement and a head pop up as we would open up.”
One of the Israeli officers, Gidon, gave a sharp cry. He had been hit in the stomach and collapsed. A medic was called and two soldiers pulled Gidon into cover. Sadly, Gidon died two days later.
“I moved back with them to give covering fire, if necessary. A soldier asked me if I was okay. I asked why and he pointed to my badly torn shirt which was spattered with blood, my blood. I looked down and saw my pocket was torn and had a hole in it.
“I had felt something bump me, but gave it no further thought as I was on such an adrenaline high.”
He felt his pocket. The siddur was still there, but he felt something hot in it – a bullet. The metal cover of the siddur had broken in the corner and cut him.
“I stopped and started crying. The soldier said Hashem must love me. I realised this was a nes (miracle).”
Moshe still has the siddur – with the hole that ended on the word “peace”, on page 437, in the Hallel.
He later returned to South Africa, where he is involved in security. He has served in the CSO since its inception.
