"Eyal Told Us 'We Won't Come Back Until the Last Hostage is Released.' That Was Our Last Conversation."

Several years ago, a young man worked at the supermarket in the village of Beit Gamliel, helping with various tasks. One day, he apologetically told the owner that he had accidentally "broken a watermelon" and wanted to pay for the damage. The store owner kindly insisted that "it's okay, nothing happened," but the young man was persistent. "You lost money, and I want to pay," he insisted. The supermarket owner was equally stubborn and firmly refused to accept the payment. Moments after leaving the shop, the young man opened the register and placed the cost of the watermelon inside. "I didn't see it, but the cameras did," the store owner recounted to the family of Eyal Twito, the young man who long since left the store to fight in Gaza, and whose fall was announced last week. "I came to tell you about who Eyal was," he told the grieving family.

"Eyal was a person entirely of honesty and truth," his father, Moti, recounts, "and this wasn't just at the supermarket but in every area of life. Even during the war, he didn't allow his soldiers to take any souvenirs from Gaza. He repeatedly said, 'We came to fight, not to loot.' Those were his words."

Make the Most of Every Moment

Moti takes a deep breath before continuing about his son: "There are many things to say about Eyal, but the trait that stood out the most was being an educator and a leader. He had an astounding ability to set a personal example for every soldier and lead them with closeness and love, in the most social way, without any distance."

But as he emphasizes, Eyal's spirit of volunteerism was evident from a young age. "Since 10th grade, Eyal was always active for the people around him. Among other things, he was a youth movement counselor, founded a charity for the needy in Yavneh, and later, after finishing 12th grade, he flew for a year of service in Baltimore, bringing the aroma of Israel to the community abroad."

Incidentally, Moti shares that Baltimore has not forgotten Eyal, and as soon as they heard of his downfall, they established a memorial corner and sent very moving pictures from there. "During one of the days of Shiva," he adds, "someone living in the settlement of Moreshet came to console us. He said, 'You don't know me, but I'm from Baltimore. I was fortunate to know Eyal, and my children knew him too. In recent years we've made aliyah, and when my children asked 'Where will we live?' I answered them, 'In Moreshet.' Their first question was: 'Is it near Beit Gamliel?' because for them, Beit Gamliel became a brand because their volunteer was from there.

"I must mention," Moti emphasizes, "that Eyal was a very quality person, and when he returned earlier than expected from Baltimore because of the pandemic, he had several free months before enlistment. He was offered to work as a waiter or to save money for the future, but he chose to use this time to study in yeshiva. Thus, he joined the boys at the Otniel Yeshiva, where he studied until enlistment, and truly, one can say he made the most of every moment of his life."

"We Won't Return Until the Mission is Completed"

"Looking back, I can say Eyal definitely lived a life of mission," says Moti, "and I think there is something somewhat comforting in that. I have been a teacher for thirty years, but when it comes to caring for students, I feel I have much to learn from Eyal about uncompromising dedication to disciples and soldiers."

"Even during the time Eyal served in the army, whenever he came back for weekends, he never used the time for himself, but always traveled to visit his soldiers all over the country. For us as parents, it was a bit difficult because we wanted to see him, but we saw how important this was to him, and he explained to us that this was the time when he could talk comfortably with the soldiers and help them with what they needed. Just yesterday, one of his soldiers visited us and told us that during one of the leaves, he talked to Eyal on the phone and mentioned a certain difficulty. 'I didn't believe it,' the soldier said to us with a voice choked with tears, 'but Eyal simply announced that he's coming to me, and he drove to Pardes Hanna to meet me.' The truth is we were touched, but it didn't surprise us because every time Eyal came home, we would ask him: 'Rest a bit,' but he would respond: 'I slept on the train,' and shortly later, he'd go out to the soldiers. Even his last leave from the army four weeks ago was full of activity. He was home for only 48 hours after being away for 80 days, and he dedicated all of Friday to traveling to console his commanding officer's family, who was killed at the beginning of the war."

And when did you last speak with him?

"We spoke about three days before he fell. My wife asked him: 'Eyal, what's happening? Maybe it's time for you all to come home? It's already hard for us and we miss you.' Eyal's response was so characteristic of him. He told her: 'We won't come back until the last hostage returns home, and everyone responsible pays the full price.' This is the message, in my eyes, that should resonate with all of us. Eyal and the other fighters are not in Gaza out of choice, but for an unequivocal mission—to restore our people's honor and give the strongest blow to those who deserve it. For this, they are sacrificing their lives, and we must stand behind them and support this just war until its good end."