By The Jerusalem Post (World News) | Created at 2025-01-05 19:50:08 | Updated at 2025-01-07 10:30:45
1 day ago
Yossi knew that now it was his mission to continue the Jewish people’s battle for survival – a mission that started with our forefather Abraham.
By NATAN ROTHSTEIN JANUARY 5, 2025 21:33
Yossi Hershkowitz.
(photo credit: ORT Pelech School)
The year 2024 is now history. A year full of fighting the multi-front war the Jewish people did not ask for. We had been repelling our southern adversaries since Oct. 7, 2023. Last year, we started battling our northern and farther away foes as well.
But this war, among the longest and most brutally deadly in our history, as they tragically tend to be, has exacted a painfully high price – for those who have fallen and for those who remain.
Around 1,200 Israelis and others were killed in the initial surprise onslaught on Oct. 7, which included many soldiers suddenly thrust into their roles in the IDF. Some 284 fell fighting in those first battles, 148 more before the October 27 ground operation began, and 393 since then, for a total of 825 until the end of 2024.
Each one of these brave fallen heroes is a life cut short, often in their youth, barely beginning life’s fulfillment. One of the most recent is St.-Sgt. Yuval Shoham, 22, of Jerusalem, who fell in combat in the northern Gaza Strip on December 29. He is yet another alumnus of one of the capital’s religious boys’ schools (see “Himmelfarb School: Many have fallen.” Magazine, 11/1/24).
Some of the fallen were already in midlife, having been career officers or called up or volunteering for reserve duty, leaving behind spouses and children, along with parents, siblings, and other bereaved relatives, never to be fully comforted and completely whole again.
Yossi volunteers
Sgt.-Maj. Yossi Hershkowitz was one of these midlifers – and one of the most famous. He is representative of self-sacrifice and heroism, as well as being unique in his role as a soldier, educator, mentor, and musician, raising people’s spirits through example, teachings, and song – including what has become one of the war’s most well-known and beloved musical anthems.
Yossi was killed on November 10, 2023, about two weeks into the ground offensive that began on October 27.
“I have so much to say about him,” his sister Efrat told In Jerusalem as she stood in front of his grave at Jerusalem’s Mount Herzl National Military Cemetery in late September 2024. She had come again with her husband, Eitan, to pay their respects in the presence of the one they had lost. (Eitan, a teacher at Himmelfarb, was there for additional losses: Several of the school’s students, some who had been his, are buried in the same section of the cemetery.)
Efrat recounted what her brother did on that fateful Oct. 7 Saturday: Simchat Torah, which should have been the joyous culmination of the previous week’s holiday of Sukkot.
“He woke up and said to his wife, Hadas, ‘A war has begun, and I will not sit back and let someone humiliate my nation.’ And then he took his things and went. ‘You’re a school principal, you’re 44 years old – what are you doing?’ she asked in shock at the news and at his plan. ‘Someone is calling me – like our forefather Abraham was called,’” was his reply.
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He took his phone with him, even though it was Shabbat, Efrat said, but left all of the WhatsApp groups he was in – not because he didn’t want to be traced but because he wanted to concentrate on what he would be doing.
Writing home
After two weeks, he wrote to the staff of ORT Pelech, the religious boys’ school where he was the principal. “You all ask why I went out of the groups,” he wrote. “A Jew, according to his ability, has to do his mission. Every one of us is a continuation of Avraham Avinu [our forefather Abraham]; now God is sending me to do my shilchut – my mission – which is to fight for the Jewish people. I’m sorry I left the groups, but I want to concentrate. I am very grateful to each of you,” he said, mentioning each one by name and asking them to fulfill the verses in Isaiah: “Therefore you shall draw water in joy out of the wells of salvation… for My salvation is near to come” (12:3, 56:1).
Yossi didn’t go into battle right away, however. He first went to his reserve unit, and the soldiers trained for several weeks before actually going in to fight. On Friday, October 27 – the eve of the Shabbat when the Torah reading is Lech Lecha (“Go for yourself”) – the ground maneuver into Gaza began.
“They were the first unit that passed the border to the Gaza Strip in Beit Hanun,” his brother-in-law, Eitan Ashkenazi, said. Yossi was in a special combat unit of Reserve Division 551, Battalion 697, under the command of Maj. Moshe Yedidya Leiter, who was also killed in action.
Yossi’s younger brother-in-law, Ori Yechezkeili, was in the same unit. “Yossi brought Ori to his unit. They were there together for about ten days. Ori went out of Gaza for his son’s brit milah. Yossi gave him letters to bring to his family. Ori said, ‘What are you doing? It’s not a good sign,’” thinking that it looked like he was writing his final farewells. His wife didn’t open the letters; she had a bad feeling from the beginning.
Seeing red
The brit was on Tuesday, November 7. “That morning, his wife, Hadas, met my wife, Efrat, to get ready for what should have been a festive ceremony," Eitan said. "But she was very afraid.”
“You have to see what I got,” the worried wife said, and showed Efrat a video Yossi had recorded in Gaza. It was dark, his face was ominously lit up red, and you could hear bombs and bullets in the background.
“Yossi said, ‘Everything is okay,’” Hadas said, “but you could see in his face that it wasn’t. The video was supposed to calm me down – ‘I can feel you worrying from here’ – but it didn’t. You can hear shooting and bombs farther away. Calm? Nonsense – he’s in the middle of the war.” Everyone was surprised that his unit was the first to go in and that they did a real operation. Ori returned from the brit that same Tuesday.
“On Friday the 10th, there was a rumor that maybe they were leaving Gaza, and others were coming in to replace them,” Hadas said. She still hadn’t given Yossi’s letters to the family. “If I have letters that I didn’t give them, when he comes out he will ask about the letters.” So she gave the letters to his father and children that day. He was killed at 3:30 p.m. “Friday night, they came to tell us,” his new widow said.
The unit had found a tunnel inside a building. The soldiers knew there were terrorists in the tunnel; several of the men went in to find them. “Yossi had given Ori his camera to take a picture inside, saying ‘It should be interesting,’” Eitan said. Yossi was one of the ones who went in. Ori wasn’t, which was fortunately for him, because the tunnel was booby-trapped. Four soldiers were killed, including Yossi. Six were wounded; some lost their legs.
After the explosion, Ori, who was in charge of all the medical assistance, went in and was the first to find his brother-in-law. Yossi’s best friend, Elisha Meidan, was brought by helicopter to Jerusalem’s Shaare Zedek Medical Center in critical condition, and he survived – but he wasn’t able to attend his friend’s funeral.
Yossi was buried in Jerusalem’s National Military Cemetery on Mount Herzl. Next to him is his commander, Capt. Leiter, 39, whose family decided that, just as the two had fought together temporarily in war, they should rest together eternally in peace.
The song arrives
While he was in “the valley of the shadow of death” that was and still is Gaza, Hershkowitz composed a now famous melody to those words from Psalm 23 – a melody that almost didn’t make it out of the battlefield.
Brig. Gen. Golan Vach, head of the Search and Rescue Unit, and intelligence officer Lt.-Col. Doron Ziv had joined Yossi’s Battalion 697 combat unit as observers and remained with them for several days.
At the week-long shiva (mourning period) after the funeral, Vach told those present about the tune’s trek, which can be seen in the short Hebrew YouTube memorial video, “Gam ki eilech – the recording of Yossi Hershkovitz’s composition.”
“We stood guard again, and Yos arrived,” he said. “It was completely dark. Suddenly, in the living room nearby, I hear that he’s humming. ‘Yos, what are you humming?’ I asked. ‘It’s a song that I sing to myself,’ he replied.
‘Did you compose it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Really? When?’
‘Honestly, when we started walking – and since then, I kind of hum it – and it’s a song!’ Yossi said.
‘So can you sing it to me maybe?’
“There was a very special moment that we’re sitting there, in absolute darkness, and he’s sitting beside me, singing me a song,” Vach told the captivated mourners. “He sings it once, and I say, ‘Sing it again.’ He sings it again, and this time I hum along with him – and that’s it.”
That Friday night, amid all the death and loss after hearing about his comrades being killed, the thing that saddened Vach the most was that he couldn’t remember the melody. “And then, at the funeral… I remembered!”
And it’s a good thing that he did – because it is an amazing, moving, melancholy yet hopeful niggun (song) that has become a requiem for Yossi and a song of hope for the living. Efrat: “I heard that Chezi Amir from the National Library said this is the first time that a soldier wrote a song in the middle of the war that became so popular.”
The song goes viral
Vach then sang the psalm verses while playing his guitar during the shiva and again at the grave visit at the end of the shiva. He also performed it with Yonatan Razel, the popular musician and singer whose own melody for “Vehi she’amdah” (“And it has stood”) has become a classic, sung by many at their Passover Seder. Razel also played it at the two-hour “Evening of Songs and Stories in Memory of Yossi Hershkowitz” anniversary gathering at the end of October 2024.
The skillfully crafted short video beginning with Vach at the shiva, produced for the shloshim (first-month anniversary of his passing), then fades to Hershkowitz’s family – Hadas and their two sons and three daughters: Be’eri (16), Hallel (13), Tal (10), Shira (7), and Netta (4) – singing the psalm in Vach’s home studio, interwoven with scenes from when Yossi was still with them, including him playing the violin as if he were accompanying them.
It begins with little Shira on his shoulders, while Netta says so cutely in the studio, “I won’t be afraid because you’re with me!” The verse refers to God, but he is likely referring to Dad. It is so pleasant but sad to watch – a real tear-jerker.
Yossi’s song has since spread far beyond his circle of family and friends. Another short, publicly available as a YouTube video on the “Yossi Memorial” channel, says that “A year has passed since Yossi stepped into the valley of the shadow of death and left us the melody of his heart. Since then, his heart has been beating throughout the world, and reminds us: ‘I won’t be afraid of evil because you are with me.’”
The video then shows a “taste” of the hundreds of performances done of the musical psalm verses, which include schools, choirs, classical music groups, people at home, famous and not-so-famous singers, and many young and older violinists, some surely inspired by its composer to take up the difficult instrument.
The Neve Shir Choir and the Jerusalem Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Anat Dor, were also cameoed. A video of their entire performance of “Yossi’s Niggun” can also be seen on YouTube.
Torah scrolls
Many other projects and events have been done in Yossi’s memory and inspired by him. His father, Yaakov, was among those who donated a Torah scroll to the community of Geva’ot, the “special and expansive place” in the Gush Etzion region where Yossi was from and where his family lives.
President Isaac Herzog sent a letter of blessing to the event, saying: “Yossi and Hadas built their home and raised their wonderful children according to these [Torah] values. And from this spirit, we aspire to be inspired today... To spread goodness, to increase peace, and to multiply the love of Israel.”
The bereaved father is also one of those sponsoring the construction of a new synagogue and study hall at ORT Pelech School, where his son was principal and where two of his grandsons currently study. “Every day is Remembrance Day for me, without Yossi here,” he said at the anniversary gathering at Pelech on October 31.
“It’s a very hard story,” he told In Jerusalem at Pelech a few days earlier. “I feel like an invalid, like I lost a limb, a hand. I had six children; now I have only five; we can’t do things together. Life changes. I’m not strong or resilient, but I have to be. Life doesn’t stop, and it’s easy to give up, but I have my other children: I have to keep them and myself going.
“My parents were in Auschwitz – I don’t have a cemetery to visit to see them, but I have this holy mountain, Mount Herzl, for Yossi.”
Yossi had plans to sponsor a memorial Torah scroll himself – for Chen Amir, a secular security guard who was killed in Tel Aviv by a terrorist on August 5, 2023, two months before Oct. 7.
Efrat related the story: In a video he sent to his students, Yossi implored them: “Don’t say bad things about the Jewish people. There are no ultra-Orthodox, secular, leftists, rightists – only Jews. Hamas and the Nazis don’t distinguish – we’re all just Jews.”
Soon afterward, he came up with an idea of how to fulfill this concept of unity. He called Amir’s secular parents, introduced himself, and said, “I want to make a Sefer Torah in your son’s memory. “Who are you?” they asked, astonished. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to do anything; I just want your permission.”
Hadas asked, also in astonishment, “Where are you getting money?” “We’ll recycle bottles,” Yossi replied. “You’re crazy,” she said after quickly figuring out how many bottles they would have to collect. “I’m telling you, I will do it,” he said, “and it’s too late, anyway: I already called his parents.”
At the shiva, Hadas remembered the story but didn’t know what had become of the plan, Efrat said. Hadas called Amir’s parents and told them that her husband had been killed in battle. “But we promise that we will do it – donate the Torah scroll.” So, for the whole year, the kids collected bottles, and then sold the four species of Sukkot – and they have collected enough money for the project. “We hope it will be done by Passover,” Yossi’s sister said.
But Amir’s family said it has to be called Sefer Achdut (Scroll of Unity), and it will be for Yossi and Chen together. His parents live in Kibbutz Re’im, one of the Gaza border communities hardest hit on that tragic day. Chen’s sister is the gabbai (administrator) of Re’im’s synagogue. “So, the school has fulfilled the last will of Yossi,” Efrat said. “The Torah will go to Re’im. He was a dreamer, but he made his dreams come true.”
My turn
Yossi Hershkowitz saw the situation on Oct. 7, 2023, as part of the timeline of all those who have fought for the Jewish people – the Maccabees, Palmach fighters, paratroopers, etc. – and now his time had come. “What’s the problem? I am doing my duty,” he told his wife. “Those defenders in 1967 died; the ones in ’73 also did – and now it’s my turn...”
Gam ki eilech b’gei tzalmaveth,
Lo eera ra’ ki ata i’madi...
Ach tov vahesed, yirdfuni kol yamei chayai,
V’shavti b’veith Hashem, le’orech yamim
Even as I walk in the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for You are with me...
May only goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for length of days.
(Psalm 23, parts of verses 4 and 6)
Yossi didn’t want to die, of course, but he knew that now it was his mission to continue the Jewish people’s battle for survival – a mission that started with Avraham Avinu. May Yossi’s inspiration – and his memorable and melancholy melody – show us the way through dark, deathly valleys to the heights of light and life.
Preschool prodigy turned music man
Yossi was raised in the Old City of Jerusalem, Hadas’s sister, Rachel, said. When he was only three, someone brought the Japanese Suzuki Method to teach preschoolers violin.
His parents put him into the first group of students, and he learned how to play the difficult instrument. He played for a few years, then abandoned the strings.
After the army, Yossi went on the customary overseas trip to relax, get away, and “find himself.” What he found was Israeli singing icon Ehud Banai performing, accompanied by violinist Nitzan Chen Razel, Yonatan Razel’s cousin. This reminded him of how he had played as a kid and made him realize that he had to get back to the bow.
Upon his return, he found the best violin teacher in Jerusalem and started playing again. He even joined a wedding band. And, of course, being the family fiddler, he played at many family gatherings as well.
“He used to play for sick people almost every Friday,” Rachel said, leaving Hadas home to prepare for Shabbat. Being a flute player, his wife joined him when she could.
“On his own wedding day, he didn’t answer the phone for four hours: He had gone to the hospital to play for people,” his brother-in-law, Eitan, related.
“Where are you?” his father asked incredulously.
“This is the happiest day of my life,” the bridegroom replied. “I want the people in the hospital to share it with me and to have a good time, too!”
Eitan’s children also went with him to play, and they still go to play in hospitals even though their band leader is no longer with them.
The son to carry on
Be’eri Hershkowitz is Yossi and Hadas’s eldest son and child. “I was very proud of my father for volunteering for the army,” the 16-year-old told In Jerusalem, “because there is nothing cooler than a father in the army.” But when he was told the tragic news, he was “gripped by a shock and pain that was very strong; it’s impossible to explain this pain.”
He tries to live with the fact that his father was killed, “and I still miss him and think about him every day. It’s crazy to think that a year has passed, and he’s no longer with us. I have now accepted the role of being the man in the family, and I am trying to complete it instead of my father.” He doesn’t know how everyone else feels, but “we face it together, and this holds us together.”
He explained that his parents called him Be’eri “because it means ‘my well’ – from which they draw life.” One of the Gaza border communities that was hardest hit on Oct. 7 is also called Be’eri.
As the child of a fallen soldier, he is exempt from military combat service – but that won’t stop him. “I will not give up on having a meaningful army service. I know that if I give up on this, my father, who is watching over me from above, will be disappointed,” the brave son of his brave father said. “There is no reason that just because I experienced a blow, I can’t recover from it.” His plan is to reach “as high as possible, and serve the country in the best way I can.”
We wish him the greatest success.
Hadas: 'a marathon without a finish line'
As Yossi’s beloved and now forlorn widow, Hadas has been the face of resilience amid grief at his loss. To see her at the end of the October memorial at Mount Herzl, after all of the many heartfelt speeches, sitting basically inconsolable next to his grave amid the crowd of mourners, was heartbreaking. She was very cordial to me at the Torah scroll dedication in Geva’ot but also, in her speech there, amid the celebration, praises, and positivity, she exuded a deep sadness.
She seemed to enjoy the Pelech yahrzeit (year anniversary of the death) ceremony, where she didn’t speak to the crowd, but she was the last of many to speak at the “Evening of Songs and Stories” after Yossi’s father, Yaakov, his brothers, Didi and Itay, and his friend and comrade, Elisha Meidan, who said that they had met in 5th grade. It took Hadas 15 seconds to collect herself to be able to deliver her prepared speech, which then lasted for 11 grief-filled minutes.
Here are some highlights:
“Yossi, you’re so missed yet so present. Every day now is a battle for life: continual hits, constant triggers. Even sleeping and breathing are not assumed. I miss the simple things we did together with the family, which were highlights but are now so hard. I’m learning how to handle the weekdays, but Shabbat is just too much; it’s much harder than I imagined. There’s nobody to sing me “Eshet Chayil” [“Woman of Valor”] with your expression and hug. We do havdalah with piano or guitar – but without your violin.
“So much happened this past year that I can’t share with you. Each day is less bearable than the day before. We, and the Jewish people, are left in such a crazy situation, and you’re not here to put me at ease. All of the good years since we were married have prepared us – me – for our lives now. We are far from each other, and yet the closest possible. Every day that passes, I feel you more and more, and this keeps me standing on my feet.
“You sent people to make this evening a success. I feel like a projector is shining on me in this darkness. We succeeded in that each of our children is a whole world to me. Because of you, my children, I can get out of bed every morning.”
She then profusely thanked both her and Yossi’s extended families, their Geva’ot community, their friends, and the Jewish people.
Hadas then recited part of the blessing that Yossi wrote her before his last Rosh Hashanah: “Have intention in prayer and positivity and blessing, and may you always feel the wellsprings of abundance and not just in times of threats. Remember that God has sent you the special strength to be His agent to benefit others.”
In her closing, almost desperate plea, she said, “Yos, I feel like I’m in a marathon without a finish line. Send me and all of us strength, and be as close to me as you can be from above.”
In Jerusalem asked her how she feels now, after the anniversary ceremony and now that more than a year has passed since her husband's passing. “I finally feel a closure: that although I will never get over it, I can’t change what happened,” she said. “We basically did everything new that we could do for his memory – and now we just have to accept that life goes on.”
