Kibbutz Shoval January 30, 1998

[translated from Hebrew]

Yonatan, I sat all week and thought what to say in such circumstances. How to express in words all the emotions and feelings that arise every time that we address our memories. We miss you. I see a lot of friends here from the team, officers from the unit, your soldiers. Only you are missing. It seems unnatural that you are not here. You always seemed so sure, so strong, exuded self-confidence. You stood out so much in the field. I always had the impression that one could depend on you. It won't happen to Yonatan. To Yonatan it simply won't happen. And here it did happen.

We miss you. I miss your way of talking, your appearance, the sweatshirt of Harlequin with the funny colors. The coffee in the officers' room, the  meticulousness, the attention to detail. A year ago I said you were among the best of us. And the year that had passed just strengthened that feeling. They always say that just the best are killed. I don't know if it's true but it seems to me that in this case they hit the target. I am sure that up there you are keeping them under a tight rein and are upholding standards. We miss you very much Yonatan. May your memory be blessed.

Yonatan's commanding officer

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