Son of Tammy and Rami. Born on April 6, 1976 in Petach Tikvah, a younger brother of Ophir and Lord. Aviv, the youngest son, grew up enveloped in love and pampering, from childhood to fairy tales. From a young age he was characterized by independence, a sense of humor, and sports and theatrical tendencies, which made him enjoy his surroundings. In his junior high school he began his studies at the Ein Ganim elementary school in Petah Tikva, where he was characterized by creativity and originality. His own Bar Mitzvah celebration was presided over by Aviv himself, in which he showed his various talents – the dramatic and entertaining side, and the sports side, in his performance with the gymnastics team. In the final performance of the junior high school he continued with the game tradition and played a central role in the performance, starting at the Brenner High School in Petach Tikvah and continuing at the Ankori School in Tel Aviv, where the teachers were also captivated by his talents. He was a professional member of the Hapoel Petah Tikva association in judo, a member of the Israeli Judo team and a member of the judo judging association in Israel. In competitions in this field he won trophies and medals, sometimes first place. Aviv was also active in other sports: soccer, basketball, gymnastics and acrobatics. But in Aviv there was another side, more sensitive and reflective. After his fall a notebook of poems he had written was discovered, as well as an unfinished script about the fall of his friend Nir. Aviv quickly made personal connections and became a magnet for his friends. Every Friday they would gather at his parents’ house and go out together for the funerals he was responsible for. “I like to look into your eyes / I love the lipstick in your lips / After you with fire and water I’ll go / What to do – I’ll die for you,” he wrote in his notebook of poems. In August 1994 Aviv joined the Golani Brigade, but due to health problems, he was transferred to the Armored Corps. He was ordained a combatant and driver of a Merkava tank. Aviv very much wanted to take a paramedics course, and invested great efforts in persuading his commanders to send him to this course. Indeed, he excelled in his role as a combat medic in the Armored Corps, and showed great responsibility, sensitivity and professionalism. “The ballad for the medic was the poetry of your life, the treatment of the company’s soldiers was in your soul and in your head,” wrote his commander, Lt. Col. Amnon Asulin. Two weeks before the helicopter disaster, during his service at the Beaufort outpost, Aviv was injured in the shoulder, but insisted on returning to operational activity. “This positive stubbornness, which so characterized your work, is worthy of appreciation and praise, and will be forever besieged in our hearts,” added his commander. Aviv was on his way to work as a medic at the “pumpkin” outpost, to which he never arrived. During the course of his service in Lebanon, Aviv had suffered the fall of some of his friends, and the experience left a strong impression on him. Before coming to Lebanon for the last time, he was asked to write something in the battalion’s leaflet. “Out of the mountains and valleys, the cries of the pain and sorrow of those young boys who do not really understand what they are doing here and the sun shines and illuminates the country / Beautiful and so ugly. ” Shortly before the publication of the song, on the way to that country “beautiful, but ugly,” as he put it, Aviv met his death. Aviv was on the verge of being released and had many plans: to take a Judo training course at the Wingate Institute, complete and correct his matriculation exams and pass the psychometric test. He planned to work in his parents’ studio, save money for a trip to Australia and New Zealand with his good friend Nir Nehorai, and to continue to spend time with his girlfriend. A whole floor was waiting for him at his parents’ house, so that he could live in it happily and in his own way. One winter night, however, these plans were interrupted. On the evening of 28 February 1997, the helicopter disaster occurred when two Yasur helicopters collided over Moshav Shear Yashuv. The seventy-three fighters, who made their way to operational activity in Lebanon, were killed, including Aviv, the combat medic. He was twenty-one years old when he fell. Survived by his parents, brother and sister. Aviv was laid to rest in the Petah Tikva military cemetery. After his death he was promoted to the rank of First Sergeant. “A cursed war and dead soldiers … / I plead, I ask / The snowball can still be stopped … You must not live in a bubble of joy / You must stop the war.” Wrote Aviv, but did not see his dream come true. Aviv was very esteemed and admired for all his friends and commanders in the “Ramah” battalion. “Your son was excellent at the battalion in all areas of activity,” his commander wrote in a letter of condolence to his parents, “was one of the best in sports, one of the best in writing and one of the best in the sense of humor. “A devoted soldier, who showed great motivation for military service, … showed confidence in his surroundings and stood out in his joy of life,” said Chief of Staff Amnon Lipkin-Shahak in a letter to his family: “You are a flower cut off from its stems and roots …because Aviv passed, passed and took with him all of his special rays of the sun and left us colorless, ” wrote Yoni, a battalion medic, who was deeply influenced by the death of his comrades-in-arms, as if touching his fate. Like the sea / so dangerous / And time, time is a game that is over, “wrote one of them. I do not cry at the funeral. “Every year there is a “spring tournament “in his memory – a judo competition for youth and adults at the Hapoel Petah Tikva club.
