Sergeant Major Ben Kerido shares real time, first person updates from the front lines of Gaza during Operation Swords of Iron
He is a delivery driver.
I don’t know his name.
I don’t know what he looks like.
I don’t know if he was married or single, or if he has children.
I don’t even know what kind of food he was delivering.
And I don’t know what happened to him.
Serving in an IDF special forces reserve battalion, I was deployed to an undisclosed location where the Judean desert meets the agrarian fertility of Gaza.
For days now I have been watching.
I have been waiting for the delivery driver to return.
His scooter is abandoned on the side of the desert highway connecting various Israeli Jewish communities.
It is a silent witness screaming its damning testimony to the unfathomable pogrom that inhuman beasts perpetrated just days before inside of the Jewish homeland, and still continue to carry out.
Did Hamas terrorists murder the delivery driver and desecrate his body by dragging it back to the Gaza Strip, tying it to the back of a cheap Chinese motorcycle?
Did Hamas kidnap him and hold him hostage, and are they torturing him at this very moment?
Did he see the terrorists in the distance, and flee on foot into the nearby trees and wilderness?
I hope and pray for the latter.
Watching and waiting.
Day and night.
It’s been three days.
The delivery driver has not returned.
I examine the scooter.
The food box on the back was left carelessly open.
I don’t know why this particular detail bothers me so much. Is it because it indicates that the animals who kidnapped and/or murdered the delivery driver were so cold and callous that they actually praised their luck that they got a free lunch out of their atrocity?
Or is it because I somehow am infuriated that the terrorists profaned his pizza, as if his sandwiches or sushi was somehow sacred?
In America people argue over the correct usage of pronouns.
In Israel we are in horror about which state-of-being verbs to use. “Is”?… Or “was”?
He is (or was) a delivery driver.
I don’t know his name.
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