I have a lot of notes that I wrote during the Yom Kippur war. I am including the period of cease fire or whatever they called it. For me the war started on the 6th of October, 1973 and ended some 6 months later in March of the next year when I finally got discharged. For a while I kept thinking I could turn all those notes into a novel or novelette at the least. I would look them over now and then, but never got to seriously rework them.
On the morning of the 25th of October, 2015 I woke up with a whole new idea for a story about that war. Of course it needed further research because I don’t remember all that much about the events. I was always a little bit of a dreamer and the fact that I usually carried a bottle of vodka with me didn’t help with actualizing that reality. The research made me ponder the possibility that my subconscious is still belaboring some unfinished thoughts about that period. Much to my surprise I found out later that October 25th, 1973 was the day of the Egyptian-Israeli cease fire agreement.
Though a lot of the story lines are based on real events, many others are not. Joel, Hanna and the other characters are all products of my imagination. Unfortunately, my memory for names is not very good and my notes are somewhat spotty. As a result it is entirely possible that I have inadvertently used some real names. If so, I beg to be forgiven. Some of my previous writings are also based on real events, though I have always mixed them with imaginary ones. I do not really have any secrets, but I also do not feel that I need to fend off inquiries about my life. If I ever write a bio it might be titled My Imaginary Half-Life. So to re-iterate, this is not the story of my tank that blew up on the Golan Heights after being hit by a Syrian projectile. It is also not the story of my getting a bit loopy while being stationed by the Sweet-water irrigation canals in Egypt.
All that aside, there are some elements of truth, like the knitted vest that I loved so much. It was given to me by my first wife and she told me that it used to belong to her father and that it was a pre-WWII vest. That would mean that it had survived the Auschwitz concentration camp together with him. The Vodka was also real, except that I was not as swift as Joel and mine went up in flames together with my tank.
I have only 2 pictures in which I am wearing the famous vest. They were both taken in Egypt on some parts of the Sweet-water canals. I might use the other one later in the book. This picture says that the guy behind me was named Shuky. I have no idea who he was and it is possible that I might have made up that name some time ago.