Son of Shlomit and Shlomo, a brother to Ido. He was born on February 6, 1975 in London, England, where his family was on a mission. When he was six months old, the family returned to their home in Jerusalem’s Talpiot neighborhood. Nir began his elementary studies at the Zalman Aran school and went on to the Giv’at Gonen High School, where he studied in the humanitarian track. Nir is remembered as a quiet and sensitive young man, very fond of his friends and distanced himself from any manifestations of violence. He read English literature, especially plays, and planned to study this field at the university after his military service. Nir joined the IDF at the end of March 1993 and asked to serve in the Nahal Brigade, like his father before him. He was placed in Battalion 50 of the Nahal Brigade, started a basic training course and was sent to a combat paramedics course, and after completing the course he returned to the battalion and completed his training as a combat soldier. Nir was proud of his role as a combat medic, acquired many members of the unit and showed a sense of responsibility and a great deal of commitment towards them. His commanders were impressed that Nir was a disciplined, cautious and meticulous soldier, and he received very positive feedback about his performance. Everyone knew that Nir could be trusted. In his last position Nir served in the Gaza Strip, in one of the most difficult sectors, at the height of the intifada. He was forced to deal with the difficulties of service in this area, and despite his great sensitivity he continued to carry out his duties as a combat medic with determination and perseverance. On October 21, 1993, Nir fell in the line of duty before he was 19. He was brought to eternal rest in the military cemetery on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem, where Nir left behind his parents and brother, the commander of the unit where Nir served, wrote to his family: Nir was killed at the beginning of his career in the paratrooper Nahal Brigade, after completing his training as a combat soldier and training him as a combat medic.Nir and his company, Company B, joined the battalion during a period of intensive and complicated activity that required contact with the civilian population, And the commanders of the battalion, the best of us, and Nir knew how to give it! Nir was a combination of a good fighter, a professional paramedic and a sensitive person, Activity required of him or his friends. ” On the third anniversary of the fall of Nir, his father spoke about his grave: “… is not it that you are left behind, Nir, so great that there is room for both pain and vagueness in this absence? You have to say that the pain does not interfere and will not interfere with the vagueness, and the ambiguity does not interfere with pain, and they will remain with us for eternity and eternity, and for three years you have been gone. You look, in your new and mysterious being, you know how much I consult this look whenever I’m ‘ Plug, any problems here and there. No one, at this gray-blue, accompanied by zero slightest hint of a smile, telling me: ‘Come on, Dad. Enough!’, That is, so to speak, drifting. ” Between us do not separate anniversaries and memorial days. Every day is a year and each year is a day and your presence with us is a kind of meeting that never ends. “From Nir’s mother’s words:” When Nir first smiled, the world was flooded with soft light. Nir’s smile was all the sweetness in the world. Later, as he grew and squinted with smiles, his smile had all the wisdom in the world. He had a big, generous mouth for Nir, whose lips were curled up. By force, Nir would control the muscles of his face, so that the smile would not cost them in vain. He refused to accept life frivolously. Recently, we traveled a lot and took Nir with us wherever we went. We no longer needed to ask permission or persuade. He was with us in Ireland,In the pubs whose songs he liked to hear, on the streets of New York, from the violence he feared, in the enchanted landscapes of Vietnam, the quietness of which he did not know, in London, in a new play by Pinter whose plays he knew by heart in a play starring Derek Jacoby, so. Everywhere I was accompanied by ‘as if’ Nir’s reactions and Nir’s harsh criticism and Nir’s reluctant enthusiasm. But, just ‘as if’. Because after the great illusion, I know that I do not have the ability to reach the depths of Nir and the originality that was in him, and I lack the ability to imagine his reactions from the same heights to which he could have developed. And then comes the deep sadness that has no bottom. “Sheri Cybulsky, Nir’s teacher at the Givat Gonen school, wrote the song” Strange Strings “in his memory:” I saw him pass / the sun burned his skin / the cold shrunk him. / He sat quietly. / He always made sure to feel / move the leaves. Hidden strings trembled frequently. / Colors have made him dreaming. / And sounds turned into him. “There was no wall between him and life.” Nir’s friend Zohar Zoller wrote in his memory: “Turn off the light. I want to be alone, / Close the door so that no one will enter. / Here I am in my own world / No one can hurt me. / Some people get over pain, / And there are people for whom it hurts too much, / So shut the door and turn off the light, / Because what was, will never come back. But this is sad and the darkness is oppressive, and the memory of a face is not always enough, so open the door and turn on the light.
