Ben Yocheved and Rani. He was born on Wednesday, October 12, 1972, at Kibbutz Netzer Sireni, and his mother recalls: “Shimri was born in the early morning, at the meeting between night and day. He burst out in a roar of battle, with two crooked legs clinging to each other and with the energy to turn a world. He calmed down when they put him on my stomach and I hugged him gently. A boy who always runs forward. He was not afraid of anything and his curiosity led him wherever he wanted. What calmed him more than all these were the stories-we could sit for hours and tell him, and then his eyes were bright and his mind open to take in. A diligent child, always willing to help and offers himself for every task. He liked to travel. Nature and the fields attracted him and he, with his great energy, swallowed endless spaces. Shimri had quick absorption and sharp thought. For a long time in one place – he did not know, all the time he had to be in motion, doing and running his flexible body. Shimri rode horses – every day he ran to the Noam Farm, cleaned, treated and rides. He had participated in hurdle jumping competitions and had been one body with the mare, which he had always heard. I would stand up and iron him the white shirt that looked his best and he took care of every small component of the small for the competition. He was ‘crazy’ for horses. When he was long in the sun, many freckles and his golden hair grew on his nose-a child of nature. He grew high at the end of ninth grade. After an appendicitis surgery, followed by a long-term health complication with great suffering – suddenly a tall, mature, organized boy. He excelled in his studies and took things seriously. Everything he did was done very thoroughly and with great concentration and no outside stimuli could disturb him if he decided to do something. The love of his life was Eilat, his classmate from Na’an. From the 11th grade they were connected to each other, and she was the most important of all, and the breaks that she imposed on him did not enable her, he persisted in his love and brought her back to him. “His dream was to reach Sayeret Matkal, and he continued to develop his physical fitness. He went to study karate in Rishon Letzion and twice a week went to train with the white garment and the belt whose color changed from stage to stage. Shimi came to a brown belt and one of his plans after the liberation was to continue to a black belt. He would do katas on the lawn in front of the house with long, wide movements accompanied by voices and shouts. The subject of his thesis was a comparison between the two karate styles, and he invested his best in it, whether in research and writing or in the preparation of the two kata on which he was examined. Everything had to be precise and perfect. As his handwriting indicates. He drew each letter in full and arranged them one by one in perfect uniformity. Shimri was running in the fields, doing gymnastics and swimming in the pool for hours. Everyone knew when he went into the pool but no one knew when he’d left. He demanded much from himself and loved the effort and the need to be good. That Mary loved us, all of us and always made us feel how important we were to him. He was gentle and very, very sensitive, full of soul and a warm heart for everyone. When he grew up, his body widened and it was nice to look at him. His eyes were soft and his body was always ready to do. When he did not want to go to a year of service, he hurried to join the army. He ran to the army as fast as he could. He did it-he had completed a course with great pride but with his characteristic modesty. He gave me the symbol of the unit for safekeeping: ‘You deserve it, after you have treated me so much.’ He suffered greatly from leg problems and on weekends exposed his legs to my treatment. As he slept, I opened, sucked, smeared, bandaged, legs ready for another week. He had to succeed at any cost and he succeeded and we were happynote. We celebrated a twenty-year anniversary, albeit a little late, on Wednesday, November 4, 1992, in our house. We prepared a feast, as Shamir loved, and I stood in the doorway and Shamir introduced me to all his teammates. All the evening Mary laughed and was happy and we were with him. Toward midnight, the guys decided to return to the base because that night they were supposed to go south for the exercise. It was hard for me to say good-bye to my guard, I wanted him to stay longer for the first time during his service in the IDF, and he did not have a coat to go out to the area and I was worried and he answered me, as he always used to say, ‘Mom, do not worry, I’ll manage. Was killed on Tuesday, November 5, 1992, at Tze’elim in the Negev, at 6:30 in the exercise of the unit. And we were left without the smile, without the joy of life and without much love – we turned into a bereaved family – Rani and Yochi – bereaved parents, Sharon, Shahar and Yaniv, Shaham and Shir – bereaved brothers and we all loved Shamir and Shamir loved us all.
