We had  met Johann just a few weeks ago when Jeff asked me to put together a panel representing the  different stages of NATIV, in order to make a presentation before the BOG Committee of the Unity of the Jewish People.  As usual, and as a team, we identified the participants, had their bios written, their photos taken and their  "marketing cards" were  made.  Little did we know we would not see Johann again after this presentation.

I was first referred by Leon to Maya Naor, a lovely young soldier from Spain.  She agreed to participate, and she excitedly said " I have the perfect person for your panel--my friend Johann Zerbiv from France! He is Jewish by Halacha, but felt very enriched by the Nativ program".

Upon Maya's recommendation, I called Johann, and found him to be absolutely delightful.  He was enthusiastic about the Nativ program, and proud to tell me that "he learned more about Judaism during a few weeks at Nativ,  than he had learned during all his years growing up in the Jewish Community in Paris".  At the BOG committee meeting, Johan boasted about the fact that he even taught his father about Judaism since he has attended Nativ, and was regretful that all Israeli-born soldiers did not have the chance to study at Nativ as the Olim do.  Johan humbly  thanked all the BOG Committee members for giving him the opportunity to attend Nativ.

"Before Nativ," he said, Johan knew why he was defending  the State of Israel, but  "Thanks to  Nativ", Johann said he has come to learn for whom he was defending Israel. This was Johann. A young boy who came to understand what it is to be part of the Jewish people.....little did anyone of us know that shortly afterwards he would become one of Israel's war heroes;  soon  after recognizing he was part of a long  heritage, his life was stopped in time and became part of the Zionist legends.

When I heard that Johann was amongst the soldiers who died in Lebanon,  in defense of Israel, I immediately had an urge to call his girlfriend Maya. The one who had originally introduced us. I wanted to console her, to hold her hand, to hug her. 

Maya had had a difficult few weeks, worrying about Johann and her other friends serving in the North, and she decided to disconnect from her phone, the TV, the radio...she needed some "time out" from the war, to turn it off for a while....just for a little bit, just for a few hours.  Little did I know when I called Maya that she had not yet "tuned in". 

Kathia stood by my side as I gently spoke with Maya, asking about her well-being, and I quickly realized from the tone in her voice that she had not yet received the tragic news.  I asked, "have you been in touch with your friends?"  she said yes, why do you ask??  And then I realized that they had not gotten through to Maya yet.

The Screaming, Crying and Tortured Soul which threw the phone down just continued to wildly say No! No! not Johann!!

Never would I have imagined my phone call would be the one to deliver the worst of all messages. This is a moment that Kathia and I will never forget, and perhaps you all down the hall, will now understand what you heard coming from my room.

The next morning, Maya called me to tell me that the funeral was scheduled for 11:00 in Ashdod.  Although I was already 3/4 of the way to Jerusalem, I made a sharp U- turn  in the direction of Tel Aviv.  My heart did not allow me to have Maya go alone by train to Ashdod, so I drove to pick her up in her apartment in Ramat Gan.

We arrived early in Ashdod only to get a phone message that the funeral was postponed till 1:00 pm.  The phones amongst the friends traveled like wild fire...they were already on their way to Ashdod, some by train, some by bus, and I offered to gather them all together in a Coffee shop at the Main Bus Station, as we had to pass a few hours in waiting for the funeral.

There they began trickling in.... 20 young beautiful Israeli soldiers, all of them had been with Johan on the Nativ Course.  All of them lone soldiers from around the world...France, Spain, Columbia, Siberia, Ukraine and more.  All had one thing in common.  Their common history brought them to Israel to fight for a common future. The night before they prepared a photo album for Johan's parents, showing him smiling, glowing during Purim, and the other holidays they spent together in Nativ.

As I stood at Maya's side by the grave, I felt as though I was serving as her "surrogate Mother" in such troubled times, wiping the tears off her brow and clutching to her, I thought to myself of all those young heroes, who made a choice to be here in Israel.  Born elsewhere, leaving their known realities,  their families and their  customs.... they chose to come home to Israel.  They all, as Johann, chose to start anew. They came with sprit, potential, thirst to become a part of the Israel they learned to love and defend........so hard to accept  such an abrupt ending to Johann's dream.

I looked around me.  I saw Johann's  family  who had flown in from Paris the night before, and thought of what their upbringing had brought upon them.  They  encouraged the love of Israel.  They supported the Zionist movement, and they believed  this would only strengthen their children-- not bring on tragedy.  I believe they can be comforted only by the fact that Johann was at his peak. He achieved his dream.  He was a fighter for the Land he loved.  He was proud to be in the Zionist army and he was at Peace with where he was and his role as an Israeli soldier.

Next to the family, I saw many of the wounded who were with Johann at his last hour.  Some on wheelchairs, some on crutches, some with bandages and some still in hospital in pajamas....they all came to say goodbye to Johann.

May Johann's memory be a blessing to us all.

Click here for high resolution (print quality) photo.