Four fallen sons: The stories of IDF soldiers killed in action

Section 8 of area D (4) at the Mount Herzl military cemetery was much calmer on Friday, August 30 than when I was there on October 11, 2023, for the funeral of my 22-year-old friend, Sgt. 1st Class Yosef Malachi Guedalia zt"l (remember the righteous for blessing). The Hebrew date was Av 26, 5784, eleven months after Tishrei 26 (this is a leap year that included a second month of Adar). 

Sgt. 1st Class Yosef Malachi Guedalia

Back in October, hundreds of Yosef’s friends, family, and other mourners had gathered under the big white tent, sad, scared, and teary-eyed, to say their final farewell in this world to one of the many heroes who fell fighting the onslaught of that terrible day, Oct. 7, forever engraved in our minds and hearts. Traffic was jammed, and Mount Herzl was filled with mourners arriving for funerals taking place one after the other. (See my previous story, “An angel’s light: Guedalia women talk about their fallen and risen Yosef” in the Magazine, March 8, 2024.)

Now at the end of August, a much smaller, solemn crowd commemorated the traditional 11-month mark when the last mourner’s kaddish prayer is said.

People gathered around Yosef’s grave, number seven in row 12, heard some words from the family, sang “Acheinu kol Beit Yisrael” (“Our brother and sisters, the whole house of Israel”), and lined up to express their condolences anew. 

“I found it to be a beautiful honoring for Yosef and coming together of the many people who love him,” his widow, Senai, said later. 

The stories of fallen soldiers

ALL ABLE-BODIED and -minded Israelis (unless religiously or otherwise exempt) from the age of 18 have to serve in the army. Among them are many who aspire to harder, longer, and more dangerous service. Yosef was one of them, having fought in the Duvdevan special forces unit, which carries out high-risk and complicated operations. “Yosef didn’t usually share details about what he did in his military service, even though he had been on over a hundred missions,” Senai said.

Last Oct. 7 was both Shabbat and the holiday of Simchat Torah. Yosef had returned home from army duty to celebrate with his family but got a call on Saturday morning to be ready to return to duty. When he heard that his Duvdevan friend Guy was already on his way back, Yosef decided to go too, even before he got the call.

They were headed north to Yehuda and Shomron, although Senai heard from other wives that they actually went south. Yosef was in one of several four-man teams that entered Kibbutz Kfar Aza that day – one of the Gaza border communities hardest hit in the sudden Hamas assault.

They arrived at 11 a.m., proceeding house to house for two hours, eliminating terrorists and rescuing civilians. Yosef rescued a wounded man at around 1 p.m., then returned to continue fighting. His team saw that an RPG was being aimed at their vehicle, and it was fired before they could get to it. As soon as they managed to exit the APC (armored personnel carrier), two grenades were thrown at them. Yosef yelled “Grenade!” as he jumped toward the gate and was shot. 

“He was rescuing people – that warrior side of him we didn’t know so well because he was so gentle at home,” Senai said. 

Although he was among the first killed on that fateful Saturday, the family wasn’t informed until Monday; his funeral was two days later. I visited the cemetery on August 30; a more intimate memorial had taken place in Beit Shemesh the previous day. 

“At Yosef’s funeral,” his mother Dina told the Magazine, “I shared that I cannot identify with the title of ‘bereaved mother.’ I felt deeply that my identity is “aym habanim smeichah” – a joyful mother of children. On the day of the first memorial 11 months later, I asked myself if I was holding there. Then I realized that where there is love, there is joy. Yosef was so full of love for the people of Israel, the Land of Israel, and the Torah. We can all choose to share that love – and for me, that is pure joy.” 

Mount of memories and memorials

MOUNT HERZL is the main military cemetery in Israel among 43 nationwide, according to the Defense Ministry’s Department of Families, Commemoration and Heritage. It is named after Theodor Herzl, the founder of modern political Zionism, who was buried there in the summer of 1949. 

According to the Jewish Virtual Library (JVL), soldiers who fell during the War of Independence in the Jerusalem area were buried on the mount that November, and the site became the main cemetery for IDF members who fell in the line of duty; the Israel Police cemetery is also located there.

In 1951, the government decided to establish a national cemetery for Israeli leaders and fallen soldiers on the mount. Leaders buried there include several prime ministers, presidents, Knesset speakers, and others, including those of the World Zionist Organization, which administers the site.

There are several memorials on Mount Herzl, such as the Garden of the Missing in Action, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier Memorial, and the Victims of Acts of Terror Memorial – where annual ceremonies are held. There are several other memorials and common graves on the mount for fighters, immigrants, Holocaust survivors, and others who died in battle, ship sinkings, or other historical events. Yad Vashem - The World Holocaust Remembrance Center, is also located there.

That’s a lot of memorial activity on Mount Herzl, but for me and many others, the main area of activity has recently and unfortunately been where Yosef’s burial and 11-month kaddish ceremony took place.

When his ceremony was over, I decided to stay and visit some of the other graves. There were many rows of them, all made of the same raised stone, many with personalized variations of adornment. 

According to the JVL, the policy is that “All soldiers, regardless of rank or unit, are buried side by side. The gravestones are plain and unadorned, only recording name, rank, place, and date of birth and death.” In practice, however, many families and friends adorn their fallen loved ones’ graves with all kinds of additions.

Photographs of the soldier are often placed on the graves (sometimes also of family members); round stones, either plain or painted; flags of Israel or of the unit the soldier fought in; plants, flowers, wreaths, candles, and charity boxes; business-size cards with a picture of the soldier and an inspiring message; and even rubber bracelets of various colors that have become popular, with their names and a message, for people to take and wear. 

One grave had dried fruits and nuts for visitors to eat after saying a blessing and wish for the departed soul’s elevation; another had hats that the soldier had collected. There were many graves that were unadorned, or had wild or somewhat cultivated greenery growing from them. Yosef’s had greenery, photos, and a wreath with the words “Duvdevan Company.”

Capt. Dekel Suissa

THE NEXT grave up in section 8 – row 13, number 7 – also had greenery, photos, and a wreath, this one from the Mateh Yehuda Regional Council. Laid to rest there is Capt. Dekel Suissa, killed at age 23.

Dekel was from Bar Giora, a moshav in the Judean Mountains between Beit Shemesh and Jerusalem. He was a platoon commander in the Golani Brigade, 13th Battalion, killed fighting in the attack on the Paga IDF outpost on Oct. 7.

According to the Friends of the Israel Defense Forces (FIDF) website, when the first RPG hit the post early that morning, Dekel, the only officer at the base, instantly became the base commander and had to lead the operation for the kibbutz’s defense. After more than four hours of intense fighting while being drastically outnumbered by the terrorists, the valiant young man instructed the air force to bomb the position. He was killed assisting an injured comrade – still fending off and eliminating five terrorists as he died.

Thanks to Dekel’s bravery and that of many others, many of the other soldiers survived and the position did not fall. 

The youngest in his family, Dekel, studied at the pre-military academy in Haifa, then spent a gap year in Atlanta, sponsored by the Jewish Agency for Israel. According to a video clip from ANF TV in Atlanta, Dekel lived in Druid Hills, alternating between three families from the Or Hatorah congregation who “saw him as a son.” Cheryl Haas from his first host family said that “part of the reason he was here was to show his love for Israel.”

DEKEL'S PARENTS Moshe and Gila, along with one of his sisters, were standing next to his grave the day I visited. They were also there for the 11-month kaddish ceremony, but it had taken place earlier than Yosef’s, so aside from the family, everyone had already left. I gently asked them if they would tell me about their son who, like Yosef, was also killed on that disastrous day, defending a different site of attack. His father graciously agreed.

“Dekel joined the Maglan special elite commando and intelligence unit, then became an officer in the elite Golani Brigade,” Moshe said proudly. “They held off the terrorists, and he and three of the soldiers from his unit were killed – 14 altogether – but they stopped them from reaching Ashdod and Tel Aviv. He put some soldiers in a dining room and they survived because it was the safest, most defendable area. He was one of the last ones who was killed.

“Dekel protected the country and saved soldiers,” Moshe said. “He had dreams about becoming IDF chief of staff. He did what he had to do.”

The officer kept his promise to the parents of his soldiers: that he would do everything he could to bring their children home safely, according to a website dedicated to his memory.

One of Dekel’s soldiers, who survived the fighting and witnessed his last moments, said: “He saved our lives; he fought with courage and bravery until the last drop of blood and killed dozens of terrorists.”

I asked his father if any of the other soldiers who fell that day were buried on Mount Herzl. He said they were not, but added that his family was still in contact with the other families: “not only with the soldiers who were in the outpost, but also other families who were friends of Dekel’s, whether from boarding school, Golani, or other connections – our circle has expanded a lot.”

Sgt. Aviad Deri

BELOW SECTION 8 to the right is section 7, one of the dozen or so on this side of the mountain. This area was also covered by a white tent, although a more weathered one. The graves were similar but looked older and simpler, although a few at the front had flags and other adornments. One of a fallen female soldier had birds, bees, and butterflies on sticks stuck into the topsoil. 

By then, there was just one older man left in the area. He was wearing shorts, sporting a knitted kippa, and holding a cane. He sat in an open space between rows of graves on each side. I courteously asked him whether he was also there for the kaddish ceremony. “No,” he replied, “I come almost every Friday – to visit my son’s grave,” Chaim Deri said as he slowly rose to show it to me.

“This is my son, Aviad, zt'l,” he said, slowly and solemnly. The 21-year-old had also fallen in a battle in Gaza, although not recently like the others – he was killed on May 11, 2004. This area, it turned out, mostly housed the fallen from much earlier battles; although there were also some from just a few years ago up in section 8. Chaim has been visiting his son’s grave almost every Friday for almost 20 years.

Unlike Dekel, who was his parent’s youngest child, Sgt. Aviad was Chaim and his wife Tamar’s eldest. He had attended national religious schools, where he “was loved by people, and was the social pillar of the classroom,” according to the Families, Commemoration and Heritage site. He also went to a pre-military academy and was accepted into the elite Givati infantry brigade. 

On May 11, 2004, Aviad’s unit launched Operation Steel Horsemen against the terrorist infrastructure in Gaza. A leading fighter, he was selected to drive the APC.

The officer and his comrades blew up and destroyed major lathes that the terrorists used to manufacture missiles and weapons in Gaza’s Zeitoun neighborhood. But as they were leaving, a shoulder-fired missile hit the vehicle, killing Aviad and five of his comrades: 1st Sgt. Ofer Jerbi; 1st Sgt. Yaakov (Zelko) Maravica; Sgt. Adron Amar; Sgt. Yaakov “Kobi” Mizrahi; and Sgt. Eitan (Mordechai) Newman, z’l.

Not only did they all die together, but most of them were buried together, right next to Aviad – Adron, Kobi, and Eitan are all here in row 11, and Ofer is buried in Yavne. Yaakov Zelko is buried, according to Chaim, in his home country of "Yugoslavia," which is how he knew it then. Officially "Serbia and Montenegro," today they are separate, independent states.

1st Sgt. Erez Deri

BUT THERE'S even more to Chaim’s story: His nephew, 1st Sgt. Erez Deri, son of Chaim’s older brother, Gideon, is also buried there, just two rows away. Erez was an infantry soldier in a paratroopers brigade reconnaissance battalion. He fell in combat at the Geva Junction, north of Judea and Samaria (the West Bank) and southeast of Afula, on January 4, 2006. He was 21 years old.

I asked Chaim if he had fought in wars like his son and nephew. “During the First Lebanon War, in an artillery unit,” he responded. “I was 18 then, in 1982; now I’m 60.” 

Chaim’s youngest son, 20-year-old Yonatan, is in the army now – Givati, like his fallen brother, fighting in Rafah. He was born a year and a half after Aviad died. 

“We decided to have another child to perpetuate Aviad’s memory,” Chaim explained, adding that Yonatan means “God has given.” “But since his brother was killed in battle, wasn’t Yonatan exempt from military service?” I asked. “Yes, but he really wanted it – what could we do?” his father said with typical Israeli resignation.

The long-bereaved parent told me that 15 years ago he built a synagogue in Ma’aleh Adumim – where the family is from – in memory of Aviad and his comrades, called Amudei Hashishah (Pillars of the Six). He also had three Torah scrolls written and built a mikveh to commemorate them. 

“What do you think about the current situation?” I asked. 

“It’s not good. We’re bleeding. We have to act so we can keep on living. We need to crush them,” came the answer.

MAY THE families of Yosef Malachi Guedalia, Dekel Suissa, and Aviad and Erez Deri, whom I was honored to meet at Mount Herzl that day, be comforted along with all of the other past and current mourners of Zion – and may their grieving be our last.

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