No alerts today!

Today we had an alert-free day, although it doesn't mean that it's over yet. To celebrate, or more accurately, just to get out of the house, we went out to a nearby restaurant (where Adi works). Half of the area was closed off and the other half was almost empty. People are either too frightened or just not in the mood to leave their homes.

The atmosphere here is very tense these days. With five fatalities - four from "friendly fire" and the fifth being hugged by a suicide bomber as he blew himself up - and as our troops come closer to Gaza and the densely-packed refugee camps, you can feel that people are bracing themselves for the inevitable. One of the lessons from the Second Lebanon War is that the army now takes mobile phones from all soldiers before they cross the border so that no unnecessary information gets passed on to anyone that might be listening (we also have warnings on the radio not to discuss locations etc. on our mobiles). So when Adi got a call from Itai last night, it made us freeze totally, since the only phone calls from soldiers in Gaza are usually made from ambulances on their way to hospital. It turned out that he had been called back out for only a few minutes and that he had taken advantage of this to give her a call. All we know is that he is OK, nothing else.

These days remind me of the previous war and the one thing that all parents of soldiers dreaded. A knock on the door, especially in the middle of the night. This happened to one of my colleagues at work then. She had two sons in the army, and when she opened the door and saw the representatives of the army standing there, all she could say was "Which one is it?". Today we heard the parents of some of the wounded speaking on the radio about what was going through their heads when the phone rang last night. I'm sure no one else can even begin to imagine what these people are going through.

We remarked today that those who served in the Lebanon War are not being called up and my only guess is that most of them have been so traumatised by what happened there that it is probably better to give them a break this time. I still find it amazing to think of young 18-20-year-olds in Europe and the US whose biggest decision in life is what to study or which career path to choose (like me at that age), while our young boys are facing life and death decisions.

Well, that's it for today. We are all going to bed wondering what we will wake up to....