Sergeant Major Ben Kerido shares real time, first person updates from the front lines of Gaza during Operation Swords of Iron. The following post is written by his wife, Sarai.
It’s eerily quiet outside my apartment and the air smells heavy. Like smoke? Or like oil? Of what, I’m not sure. Only that it smells like war. I open the front door and then lock it behind me. I am not taking any chances. As I step outside to go into our backyard and I am struck by the silence. No noise from cars or buses. No sounds from construction or delivery trucks down the street. Not my usually chatty neighbor yelling to her kids to come inside. Even the birds have disappeared. It’s as if the whole city is asleep. Dreaming of better and happier times rather than the hell we have been living through for the past 10 days.
I make my way to the backyard where my laundry hangs on the line. It’s a bright, sunny day; the light in stark contrast to the darkness that surrounds my heart and the hearts of the Jewish people. In another time, I would say it was an excellent day for a walk or maybe even a trip to the beach. But today, it’s just another day to count down the hours until nightfall. Another day to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Another day to try to keep moving forward. Another day to pray. One of our resident turtles shuffles around the edge of the garden and I wonder if he can sense the change in the atmosphere too. I begin to pull the clothes off the line and try to soak in as much sunlight as possible.
Our backyard feels safer to venture into than taking a walk down the street. Even if it’s just for a few minutes, I will take the light on my skin. I watch the turtle as he continues his path and finds a place to rest near some of the plants nearby. Suddenly, a helicopter overhead pierces through the silent morning making me jump. Though I feel uneasy, hearing it makes me feel just a little bit safer. Each plane or helicopter that I hear means we are being protected. And it means that we are continuing in our fight against the evil, barbaric assholes that have killed over 1400 of our people and taken over 200 of them hostage.
I take a breath to calm myself and I listen as the helicopter begins to fade into the distance as I finish grabbing my clothes. I take one last glance at the turtle who has now gone into his shell. I am ready to do the same. I walk back to my front door and unlock it. I shut myself back inside and make sure that I am safe once again. It’s eerily quiet outside my apartment and I fear it will be that way for a long time.
Sign Up for Updates Below
And this is certainly not my first combat operation in the Gaza Strip and the Yehudah v’ Shomron region (also known as the West Bank). Drawing from my own experiences and the experiences of others, I incorporated much of what really happens in the Gaza Strip and during IDF operations in our full-length novel, The American Holocaust: Early Tomorrow Morning. It is also known by its free promotional title, Let’s Go, Brandon! – The Novel.
To support us, click here to buy.
For more information, including to see how you can get a free copy, click here.
