PREFACE
I kept a lot of notes 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 that I could turn all those
notes into a novel or novelette at the least. I would look them over now and
then, but I 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 didn'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 the 25th of October, 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 Sweetwater
irrigation canals in Egypt.
All that aside, there are a lot of true elements, 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. On the other
hand, she had a very rich imagination, so who knows. I did keep anyway, and I
had repaired it when necessary over the years. I am hoping it will fit me again
some day
The Vodka was also real, except that I was not as swift as Joel and mine went up
in flames together with my tank.
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