Dvir Emmanueloff

11:15 PM, Sunday, January 4, Har Herzl
The haunting chants of the IDF Chazzan and steady beat of the marching soldiers grew louder as the funeral procession approaced the waiting crowd gathered in Jerusalem's Har Herzl Military Cemetary. The coffin of Dvir Emmanueloff, the first, and G-d willing, only, soldier killed during Operation Cast Lead, came into view, held high by the baby-faced members of his army unit. The Emmanueloff family followed behind the flag-draped coffin, sobbing and clinging to one another as their son and brother was carried towards his final resting place. Cries of "No, No, No" pierced the cold and dark winter night as the coffin was lowered slowly into the ground, and the pain of the moment was driven home as the brown Jerusalem dirt was poured slowly over the coffin.
The Chief Rabbi of IDF recited the Perek of Tehillim for the dead, only 24 hours after he stood with soldiers about to enter Gaza, blessing them to return safely.
Standing shoulder to shoulder with complete strangers, we all cried together as Dvir's sister spoke about her brother, sobbing through her loving and moving depiction of a young man she called her "Dviroosh." "My brother, my brother," she cried, telling us through her tears of her relationship with her brother, a boy who could light up a room with his smile and a man who was a pillar for his family after his father died 2.5 years ago. Dvir's sister asked him to give a kiss to their father when he sees him in heaven, breaking down as the finality sunk in.
Immediately before Shabbat, Dvir sent a text message to his family, who wanted to know if there was a chance that he would be home the following week. He responded "probably not."
Before heading into Gaza, Dvir sent one final message to his mother, telling her how much he loved her. That was the last thet heard from him. Such is the pain of war.
Dvir's elite reconnaissance unit was one of the first sent into the Gaza Strip when the IDF launched its ground incursion on Saturday night, and they encountered heavy resistance almost immediately. Dvir was gravely wounded when shrapnel from a mortar fired by Hamas tore though his unit.
Dvir grew up in Jerusalem and was deeply attached to the land of Israel. He was not only fighting to protect the citizens of the south, but in his words, wanted to "restore dignity to the country."
I did not know Dvir, and judging by the crowd massed at Mt. Herzl, it did not seem that most of those in attendance knew him personally either. Yet there we stood, mourning together as another one of Israel's finest was laid to rest, pulled together to honor a young man who gave his life to the country he loved.