Under Fire, part 25

Qana aftermath: As the death toll rises to 57 after the IAF air strike on Hizbullah targets in the Lebanese city of Qana, we face our biggest challenge of all—our own morality. It is utter agony to cause civilian casualties; top IDF brass, Prime Minister Olmert, and other government members all voice our genuine regret at this difficult time. Perhaps this ability to empathize with others is what sets us apart from our enemies, but it will also make this a war that cannot be fought to any clear victory. Hizbullah is firing rockets from within populated areas, often dressing as civilians, and hiding behind Lebanese children (see the story in the Herald Sun). But the truth is that we lack the hatred and ruthlessness necessary to carpet bomb the area, even though that would minimize casualties among our own soldiers and save countless of our citizens still under daily threat of Hizbullah rockets. But we can't.

By vilifiying us at international "peace" rallies, demonstrators are implying that we have no right to protect ourselves and no right to live in peace. They selectively choose to ignore the fact that Hizbullah starting firing across the border into our cities, and that is what triggered the air strikes. It is worth checking out these five photo slides shows of rocket damage in Haifa.

Be strong; be safe: I answer our home phone and hear our mayor, Adi Aldar, telling me to be strong, to stay inside, and to call the city hotline if I need anything. It is only a recording (which is then repeated in Russian), but hearing his voice makes me smile. I call Gill and tell him about the call he missed.

My neighbor comes by to pick up the key. For her, the normalcy of a peaceful Friday in Tel Aviv was a tonic, reassuring her that life goes on and that we will not be cowed or driven off.

I make kneidlach and, after they have cooled, cut one up for Nadine. She gobbles it with tuna and then drags herself up onto the Forbidden Sofa for a long shluff, knowing that I don't have the mental energy to discipline her. We have both become shell-shocked enough to jump every time the siren goes off, and I wonder how long it will take to get back to normal. Kneidlach and tuna have definite soothing properties for my girl, but they only go so far. Will she need therapy? Will our vet have to subscribe tranquilizers?

Perhaps I will call the city's hotline, so that our mayor can tell her to be strong, be safe.