by Hillel Fendel, former editor of Arutz-7's IsraelNationalNews.com.
The IDF Censor still does not permit
his photo to be published, but Lt.-Col. Emanuel Moreno was remembered this
week on the 20th anniversary of his death during the Second
Lebanon War. He served in the IDF's most
elite unit, Sayeret Matkal (the General Staff
Reconnaissance Unit), and is credited with having taken part in the
greatest number of operations in the unit's history.
He is publicly acknowledged to have participated in only two of them:
the 1994 abduction of Lebanese terrorist commander Mustafa Dirani, who had held
missing Israeli navigator Ron Arad, and the 2003 rescue of taxi driver Eliyahu
Gorel, kidnapped by Palestinian terrorists and held near in a village north of
Jerusalem.
It was reported this week that one of the few occasions that Moreno
considered a personal defeat was shortly after he discovered where kidnapped
IDF soldier Gilad Shalit was being held by Hamas terrorists in Gaza. Emanuel
prepared a plan for Shalit's rescue, presented it to the Chief of Staff and
Prime Minister – and they turned it down. Their fear was that its price in
soldiers' lives might be too high, but Moreno was sorely disappointed and
frustrated at what he felt was a lack of leadership and courage.
Arutz-7's Shimon Cohen, who studied with Moreno in the pre-military
academy in Eli, wrote this week:
"It's impossible not to dream what
'could' have been. If Emanuel's plan had been carried out and succeeded, like
others that he led and initiated, we would not have had to release 1,027
terrorists in exchange for Gilad Shalit – including hundreds with blood on
their hands, especially Oct. 7th mastermind Yihye Sinwar. We can
only imagine how Israeli history over the past 15 years would have looked had
Sinwar and his cronies not been released then.
"It's true that the architects
of anti-Israel terrorism knew how to pull its strings even from with prison
wall, but there is certainly no comparison between a terrorist leader in prison
and one who is free of constraints...
"Yes, there is great
disappointment with our leaders of then, whose fears apparently cost us so much
more than the price they were afraid to pay. But it is incumbent upon us to
remember at the same time that our there is much that we do not know and
probably never will know. How many massacres and mass terrorist attacks were
prevented, with G-d's help, in the merit of the dedication and initiative of
dedicated fighters such as Emanuel Moreno and others in elite units, air force
squadrons, infantry, armored units, intelligence, and more! Our thanks to
all."
Another Arutz-7 correspondent, Dvir
Amar, reports that at a 20th memorial this week for Lt.-Col. Moreno - whose
photograph is still censored for reasons that can only be surmised – a medic
who attempted unsuccessfully to save Moreno's life told of his short but
meaningful acquaintance with the hero:
"I was one of Emanuel's
underlings at the time, a new, young combat soldier. But I well remember the
sense of security and optimism that his presence conveyed to everyone there…
Shortly before the incident in which he was killed, we were on our way back
from a successful mission, and Moreno's happiness was clear to all. His
emotions were felt by everyone. He was really in the clouds, just overjoyed at
the results and at how our unit had worked together. And he remained that way
up to the final seconds – because then we realized that something was going
down. Emanuel was the first to realize it, and he abruptly and firmly said, 'Something
is happening here.'"
In fact, on their way back from the
secret mission to prevent the smuggling of Iranian and Syrian weapons to
Hizbullah, they had fallen into a murderous Hizbullah ambush in southern
Lebanon - even though a ceasefire had been declared shortly beforehand.
The former soldier said at this
week's memorial, "I was a medic, and after Emanuel was hit, I was the one
who took him out of the jeep and started life-saving operations. But I soon saw
that it was too late… I remember seeing his eyes still open, but realizing that
he was no longer with us. I closed his eyes, and said, 'Dear brother, you're
now in a place that's all good.'"
The soldier recounted that he has
never told that story publicly before, because of its personal nature. "It
took me 20 years to tell this… His final minutes left an amazing impression.
The strength that he gave all of us, even then – that was truly Emanuel."
For more information on Emanuel
Moreno, see https://www.israelnationalnews.com/news/122213
From a collection of stories
about Emanuel Moreno:
The Value of Five Seconds (from
a letter to Emanuel's family)
I would like to share with you a
conversation I had with Emanuel on Friday, just a few hours before we boarded
the helicopter. I don't remember the exact words, but this is the gist of it.
We sat and talked about different things that could happen to us, and what we
would do in each case. This was just two weeks after the sad incident in which
a helicopter was hit by a rocket and five soldiers were killed, and so there
was a general vague apprehension regarding flying in helicopters over Lebanon.
Emanuel asked me, "So what
would you do if, G-d forbid, our chopper is hit by a missile and you have five
seconds left until it crashes?" I answered, "I don't know. I guess I
would be very sad and scared, and I would close my eyes and wait for it to end
as quickly and painlessly as possible." Emanuel thought for a moment and
then said, "What I would do, and this is what you should do too, is to say
'Shma Yisrael.'" I looked at him and said, "OK, you'll say Shma
Yisrael. But what will it give you? No matter what, a second later, the crash
will come and we'll all die."
And then he answered me something
that has remained with me until now, and I'm convinced it will remain with me
all my life: "If a person has five seconds left to live, and those seconds
still have significance for him and aspiration for what comes afterwards, that
means that his whole life had meaning. But if the person has five seconds left
and he doesn't realize their importance, then apparently his whole life had no
meaning. For we don't live just to satisfy our desires, or just for momentary pleasures;
our lives are rather a step on the way to the next stage."
This sentence has
been with me from the moment of the terrible incident, and it helps me, in that
I know that as far as Emanuel was concerned, his life did not end with that
terrible wound that killed him. Rather, just one stage ended on the way to the
next stage, one that is even more important than this one - a stage that can be
reached only by living this life. I am not a religious person, but I believe
that Emanuel's strong faith helped him get through all the difficult times of
his life calmly and serenely - and especially from the time he was hit until he
died. For me, this is something very strengthening.