The latest update from Dr. Binyamin Klempner, our guest in episode 276 of The Yakking Show. You can see all of his updates from Israel here. Many younger parents in North America and Europe will be shocked that Binyamin took his 12-year-old son into the war zone. Those of us who lived and brought up our children before the days of “woke” and in countries fighting terrorism like Israel, Rhodesia and South Africa know that children who are exposed to the harsh realities of life develop resilience.
Watch out for my next post which will explore the way our lives in Africa helped prepare my and my sons’ generations for life.
Dear Friends,
Summer vacation is a time for experiential education. A time to give our children the value-based education they rarely receive in brick-and-mortar schools. With that in mind, I took my twelve-year-old to conflict zones to make coffee for soldiers. My cousin, Marc Frost, gave me a thousand bucks to have patches embroidered for soldiers. Patches have messages on them. Messages that instruct. Messages that inspire. The message, the patch, paired with the coffee and the barista, make for a story that sticks. Sticks with them through the tough times of being under fire. The guys couldn’t have been happier with the coffee and the patches and father-and-son team that inspired them. Really proving Napoleon’s words that, “The moral is to the physical as three to one.” “Hey guys, you know…we’re only half of the team, the other half is stationed with some tank guys up the road a bit. You think you’d mind going up there and making them coffee and giving them patches? It would mean a lot to them.” “I don’t know man. It’s real sketchy up there…and I got my twelve-year-old with me.” “It’s safe man. I get it if you don’t want to go up there. But it’s safe now. Okay, it’s only safe because they can’t see us. But they can’t see us.” “Alright man. We’ll go. But call them first. I don’t want to just show up. I want them to be expecting us.” “No problem. Of course I’ll call them. They’ll be expecting you.”
Twenty-minutes later…”A child?!?! Can’t believe this! You guys are making us ice-coffee??? God bless you!!! It’s hot today! By the way, how did you get here?” “I drove my car. How do you think I got here?” “Obviously, but, I mean, nobody comes this way.” “Well, I guess we do.” “I guess so.” “Didn’t your friends down the road tell you we’re coming?” “No. But that’s okay. We’re glad you showed up. But you know, you guys can’t be here unless you eat with us.” “That b-b-q gives me indigestion just looking at it, but it’s okay, my son can eat for the two of us while I make you guys coffee.” I hand a guy a coffee. “Hold on. Give me back that coffee.” I take the coffee out of the guy’s hand and give it to the officer. The officer grins quietly. He’s a petite blond haired fellow in his mid-twenties with piercing blue eyes and an ever-so-calm demeanor. “Now. I’m going to embarrass the commander. But that’s alright. Because I want you guys to know. Had I not given him the coffee, you guys would have let him go last. He’s the first to go into battle and the last to let himself get served around the dining table. And that’s a true commander. But you guys. You guys need to make sure he gets the honor due to him.” “He’s shy. You’re embarrassing him.” “I see. I’ll stop embarrassing him.” We all laugh. We had a good time. Tanks. Machine guns. Buckets full of bullets. Night vision goggles. Making this war into a family’s summer outing. The enemy tries making us miserable.
We take it as an opportunity to have fun. Nothing infuriates an enemy more than seeing their enemy unafraid and having fun. Eating good meat off the grill. A father-son visit to the front makes a mockery out of Hezbollah, a jerk out of Nasrallah. During the early days of this war I met a guy who couldn’t eat meat because it reminded him of the smell of burnt human flesh. Well, those days are behind us. All hardened soldiers. All warriors. The guys loved the coffee as much as my son enjoyed the grilled sausage and burgers. The patches I gave them had the words of Sun Tzu embroidered on them, (in Hebrew of course), “As swift as the wind. As gentle as the forest. As Fierce as fire. As unshakable as the mountain.” Before taking our leave a soldier asked me to give some advice on soldiering. I told him a story I’d heard, during the Seven Year War there was a prince who was severely rebuking a Major for his failure. After some time the Major spoke up for himself blaming his failure on the fact that he was following orders from a Colonel to which the prince rebuked him, “The reason his majesty the prince made you a Major is because he thought you would know when to disobey an order from a Colonel!” The soldier nodded and laughed. He asked, “Before you leave here. You have to tell me. Why do you come to conflict zones? What do you enjoy about being here?” I told him, “You’re not wearing a mask. And I’m not wearing a mask. Everywhere else, we pretend. Here. There’s no pretending. Just being. Being here is a breath of fresh air.” And then, with a lighter tone, “And the view. You just can’t beat the view.” We laughed. My son and I left. An hour later. We were home. On the way I asked him, “So, you had fun?” He answered: “I had a great time!”
I was speaking with one soldier recently who said it well, “There’s nothing left to do except cry and pray for the Messiah.” This statement came after I had told him about a border guard up the highway from where we were. A missile fell about three hundred meters from us. He said that it was their everyday life. Rockets falling. He said that after the war he’s going to have awful PTSD. Having not been in combat he was embarrassed to have such a reaction and excused himself for it. I told him that he doesn’t need to excuse himself. I told him, “Look man, rockets are exploding around you. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t fight back. You’re normal to have PTSD.” He appreciated the validation. Anyway, the soldier I told this to, before saying that there’s nothing to do but cry and wait for the Messiah said, “You know…I’d rather be in Gaza than here.” “Why’s that?” I asked. He answered, “Because in Gaza you can react. Here…there’s no reaction. Just being attacked and swallowing it. Trying to stay safe. Trying to stay out of the way. Here you’re a sitting duck. And there’s something else you should know…Everyday I see the people who live up this road pass by this checkpoint. I’ve gotten to know them, at least by face.They don’t live in their homes, but many of them run businesses out of their homes. They can’t just walk away from their homes. And their faces…their faces don’t look right. There’s something about their faces that doesn’t look right anymore. Their faces don’t look like regular human faces. Something sad replaced their faces. Something distant. Not the face of a human.” The only thing to do is cry. I went on to the next checkpoint. Made coffee for the female soldiers working it. One of the soldiers said to me reflectively, “You know…when this war is over, as a nation, we’ll need to turn inward and work on the bigger problem. Our division.”
Just got off the phone with a fundraiser from one of these international IDF “friends of” organizations. The guy I was speaking with, a fundraiser who makes around eighty grand a year, began telling me all the many and wonderful things his organization does to help soldiers suffering from PTSD after they’re discharged from their service. I called his bluff. He gasped and hung up on me. I guess he didn’t dig what I had to say.
This from Israel National News:
Mental health officer who attacked religious Zionists discharged
Uzi Baruch Aug 27, 2024, 8:27 PM (GMT+3)
Commander of the 91st Division Brigadier General Shai Klapper decided on Tuesday to dismiss the mental health officer of the Alexandroni Brigade, Adi Angert, after she accused the brigade commander of wishing for genocide and spoke out against the religious Zionist sector on social media.
Angert wrote that the brigade commander, Colonel Moshe Pasal, wrote in a letter to his troops: “May the villages of Lebanon be desolate and may its roads have no outlet,” and commented: “The brigade got a new commander. The first thing he does is to wish that the soldiers commit genocide. Amazing.”
In addition, she referred to the religious Zionist community as a “cult of death eaters.”
The IDF stated that a non-commissioned officer in reserves “expressed herself severely and inappropriately on social media while still in active reserve duty.”
She was summoned on Tuesday to a hearing by the brigade commander, Colonel Moshe Pasal. During the hearing, the commander made clear that such severe remarks have no place in the IDF. At the end of the hearing, the commander of the 91st Division decided to discharge her from her position and from serving in the division.
The IDF praised the brigade’s soldiers: The soldiers of the Alexandroni Brigade and its commander fought from October 7th until today and brought important achievements both in the north and in the south.” Brigade commander Pasal himself rushed to fight terrorists on October 7th, was wounded in battle, and returned to the battlefield.
In a heated debate on X, Angert mentioned an opinion column in Ha’aretz which lashed out against Laly Dery, whose son Saadia fell in battle while serving in the Alexandroni Brigade, and stated that Dery “exhibits satisfaction with her son’s death.”
Haim Goldich, a reservist in the brigade and Kan 11 journalist, protested the column by Rogel Alpher and wrote: “It’s not enough that people sacrifice their lives so we can live here, this brat dares to write such disgusting things about a bereaved mother. Ungrateful, repulsive, and shocking.”
Angert did not understand “what’s wrong with what he wrote.” In another post, she wrote: “She’s proud of death. That’s terrible, and that’s religious Zionism. A cult of death eaters.”
NCO Angert, and those like her, with their faux sophistication and moral judgment, cause defeat both on and off the battlefield. Officers such as NCO Angert are the reason armies lose wars. They are more dangerous to the moral courage of our soldiers than anyone on the other side of the battlefield.
Stay supportive. Stay strong.
Sincerely,
Binyamin Klempner
P.S. An unfortunate P.S. Going up to visit soldiers isn’t cheap. Between gas, coffee, ice, cups, patched tires (of which there are many) each visit costs me about $150-$200. At this point, it’s mainly out of my own pocket. But it’s got to stop. I can’t afford to keep going on a regular basis, never could but did it anyway. For now, I’ll go whenever I have a sponsor. No sponsor, no visit. 
https://thechesedfund.com/
You can also support Binyamin’s visits to soldiers by buying a copy of his book. It’s good, I have read it.
Here are some of the tools we use to produce this podcast.
Hostgator for website hosting.
Podbean for podcast hosting
Airtable for organizing our guest bookings and automations.
Spikers Studio for video editing
Clicking on some links on this site will let you buy products and services which may result in us receiving a commission, however, it will not affect the price you pay.