We moved up the road leading North and joined up with another tank or two from our battalion.
We were positioned on the right side of the road, in front of a house (green pentagon).
There was an infantry armoured personnel carrier to the left of the road (blue square), perhaps 5 meters forward.
I noticed a group of men sitting on the ground some 10-15 meters ahead of the carrier (red circle). They seemed to be alongside a mound or low wall, with a house a bit behind.
One of the soldiers in the armored carrier, I assume the commander, motioned to the group of men to come forward towards him. He was standing inside the carrier, and I recall one or two soldiers standing there as well. The group of men got up and walked towards the carrier. I could not tell if they were wearing military uniforms or plain khaki work clothes as local villagers would. They were not armed. The commander was speaking to them, asking questions, and they appeared to be answering.
I could see the commander pointing to the field to the left, motioning to the group to walk in that direction (yellow arrow). The group started walking slowly into the field, their backs to the carrier. Seconds later, the commander and one or two of the soldiers began firing automatic weapons at them. I watched in disbelief as the group fell to the ground.
And now, over 30 years later, I spent many nights poring over maps of the area, trying to find the place where that happened. I believe the picture above is the place where those innocent men were murdered. I often wonder about them, who they were, did their families know they were killed, did they receive proper burial, were they mourned for, was someone named after them... how did their families, their parents, wives, and children, continue on with their lives ? Why were they killed ?They weren't armed, they didn't pose any threat, they were just sitting on the side of the road, caught in the middle of a battle. They might have been terrified local villagers, or perhaps surrendering Syrian soldiers. Senseless.
I was born 13 years after the end of World War II.
The Holocaust, the senseless genocide orchestrated by Nazi Germany in Europe of approximately 6 million Jews, 10 million Russians, 3 million Poles, 500,000 Serbs, 500,000 Romani, 200,00 Freemasons, 25,000 Slovenes, 15,000 Homosexuals, 7,000 Spanish Republicans and 5,000 Jehova's Witnesses, always loomed as a constant cloud when I was growing up. Many people had relatives or knew someone who had survived the Holocaust. In school we were surrounded by stories and images, books, films and photographs, testimonials to the cruelty incurred upon millions of defenseless and innocent people, in the name of a senseless ideology.
The State of Israel was born out of the ashes of the Holocaust. It had been in continuous conflict with its neighboring countries ever since. Israel's cause was considered morally just, and it was accepted that Israel upheld to universal values of justice and decency and adhered to international law. I never believed that I would see Israeli soldiers committing the same senseless atrocities that I had seen being done in places like Vietnam, Cambodia, Nicaragua, East Timor, Biafra, Sudan, Bosnia and elsewhere.
After the war it also became clear that what I had witnessed was not one isolated case.
The first step towards unraveling trauma is bringing to light accurate details of the traumatic experience, discovering and accepting the truth of what had happened, and confronting criminal negligence and breach of responsibility.