The following story was submitted by an Israeli soldier (for security reasons he has asked to remain unidentified):
In July, 2006 Hezbollah launched rocket attacks toward Israeli military positions near the border village of Zar'it. On July 12th, we entered into a conflict that would kill over a thousand people, and displaced about 1 million Lebanese and over 400,000 Israelis.
A few weeks after the start of the war, I received news that I was being recruited to the Israeli army to fight Hezbollah forces in Lebanon. My platoon, consisting of 80 soldiers, was immediately given orders to conquer a bunker of Hezbollah one mile from Metula, Israel. Knowing that over 500 Israeli and Hezbollah soldiers had already died in the conflict, I recognized that my platoon was facing incredible danger. Unsure of how my fellow soldiers would react, I made the decision to distribute a mini pocket Zohar to every man in my platoon.
As we approached Lebanon, my platoon anxiously waited for orders to initiate our attack on Hezbollah—but miraculously the orders never came. We all rejoiced, knowing that this “mistake” had saved us from many casualties. But, celebration did not last for long. Our platoon commander soon confided in that an attack from Hezbollah was imminent. Moments later, we heard a strange noise. Before we could understand what was happening, a bomb exploded one meter from where we were standing.
Everyone got into their post to get ready for the attacks of Hezbollah. Bullets, bombs, katusha and sager missiles were coming from everywhere; when I reached my post I tried to operate my rifle, but my rifle got jammed in the middle of everything so I had no other option but to scan the Zohar, begging for the help of Rav Shimon to protect all the soldiers. In one hand, I held the Zohar and in the other hand I held a hand grenade. I watched as one of my friends decided to move from his post into hiding. Right after he left his post, that same place that he was sitting got hit by a bomb.
Another friend had a bomb fall right between his legs and didn’t explode! It was beyond scary, something that you can’t image—because you don’t know where to go or where the bombs will come from. I just kept scanning the Zohar until the bombing ended.
After three hours of direct attacks from Hezbollah, my entire platoon emerged without injury. Within 24 hours, the conflict had ended.
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