Under Fire, part 14

Same old, same old: It's a new day with an old pattern. We wake to a deceptively quiet morning, and wonder if this is a sign that things are returning to normal. But, like clockwork, the first sirens go off between 10:00 and 11:00, and the sound of distant artillery becomes an almost constant background noise. We can't always tell if it ours or theirs. The sirens go off so frequently that I can't finish any simple chore outside the meimad; around noon I try to grab some lunch, but it takes three attempts before I can gather what I need in between sirens and take it back into the meimad.

A Druze village is hit; rockets fall near the mosque killing at least one person, further proving that Hizbullah doesn't care what (or whom) they hit. Israeli Jews and Arabs are being injured and killed every day. Haifa is hit again, injuring over a dozen people. (For a small sense of what that hit was like, look at the video feed on the Ynet site. You don't need to understand Hebrew to understand these images.) Since this started, over 1300 rockets have been fired into the north of Israel.


David Broza, another old-time musician, writes a special song for children sitting in bomb shelters and security rooms. The song is meant to help kids cope with the noise and confusion. The underlying message is of hope and peace. What a difference from the garbage of martyrdom and "holy war" being fed to many Muslim children.