Until the Last Drop of Blood - by Lt. Col. Or Ben Yehuda

 

I look up, raise my head to the sky, lower it back down, and glance off to the side again. There are about five pickup trucks heading right toward me, packed with motorcyclists. There are terrorists bounding across the sand dunes and through the trees, all wearing tactical vests and uniforms, advancing in our direction. I can’t even count them with my bare eyes, there are hundreds of them! Hundreds!

And further back, along the distant axis, I see processions of Gazan civilians marching toward us, some armed, some not. I tell myself, "This is it. This is where I die. Right here, right where I’m standing."

Then I thought to myself, Alright, if this is the end, I’m going out with dignity. I'll die like a warrior. I'll do the best I can, and I'll fight down to my very last drop of blood.

So I turn around to my soldiers, a group of twelve heroic fighters waiting for me to tell them what to do. I turn to them with a half-smile. They told me later that I smiled; I didn't even remember it. I say to them, "Come on, let's tear them apart!" And they all shout, "Yalla!!!"

They rush up to the dirt embankment with MAG machine guns and everything they can carry. We position ourselves along the embankment and start firing at anyone approaching the outpost. We’re firing like crazy. At one point, we had a LAW rocket with us, so we fire it toward one of the Hamas pickup trucks. The truck detonates in a massive explosion, something extreme, it must have been packed with explosives. That blast takes out several motorcyclists nearby, and next thing I know, I realize a lot of them are starting to retreat, turning around and running back.

It hit me then: Yes, we are making a real difference here.

We were there for about half an hour when, amidst all the chaos, I suddenly hear tank tracks behind me. It was an overwhelming sense of relief. I said to my deputy, "Stay here! I don't know whose tank that is, but I'm running to get it!"

By then, it was around eleven in the morning. As I start bounding back toward the tank through the concrete barriers, a terrorist suddenly leaps at me from point-blank range, so close it was like he was about to hug me.

My stroke of luck was that I had a round in the chamber and my finger on the trigger. It was a matter of who shoots first. I shot first. The terrorist drops right in front of me.

I freeze for a second, a bit stunned. What was that? What just happened? I hear my deputy shouting from behind me: "Commander, Commander! Commander, are you okay?" I look at myself, I'm okay!

I turn back to him and give him a hand signal that everything is under control. He bounds over, looks at me, and asks, "What... what just happened between you two? What's going on here?" I tell him, "Exactly what's running through your head right now."

"But the tank!" I remember. I can't let it get away; we need it. I sprinted toward it, and because I'm used to training with my female tank crews, I start flashing all the tank hand signals to the commander. I signal: "Terrorists, right there, behind me, put a shell over there!" And he's right there with us, completely in the fight!

For the first time, I have an additional force linking up with me.

We execute a flanking maneuver, take up a strong position, and just pour fire toward where the terrorists are coming from. We keep shooting and shooting, and they fall back and retreat. I realize, we all realize, that if we don't keep up this fight right here, right now, these terrorists will push past us and reach all the communities right behind us.

At one point, my deputy commander and his radio operator get hit by an RPG and collapse. We pull them out of there, and I call my friends who are pilots flying Sea Stallion and Black Hawk helicopters. I ask them to come land at the helipad near the outpost because I've evacuated wounded there, and I need them to airlift our forces out. And they actually do it! They arrive, land, and evacuate the wounded.

My medical squad is there, constantly treating the injured, loading them up, and moving them to the helipad. We managed to bring the wounded from the APC we found, our own battalion's wounded, and several civilians we picked up along the way who had fled Kibbutz Sufa, Pri Gan, and various other places. They all received care from my incredible medical squad, those absolute angels, and the helicopters I called in evacuated them to Soroka Hospital, where they could get proper treatment.

There were many fallen in that battle as well. Fallen soldiers. I remember a moment at the end, when it was all over, a few minutes before they came to evacuate them. There was a moment where they were lying there side by side, and I walked among them. I gently touched their faces, stroked them for a moment, told them I was sorry, and closed their eyes.

I remember telling myself right then that these people, who are now making their final journey, are extraordinary heroes. They fought like lions to save Kibbutz Sufa. They fought down to their very last drop of blood...