Israel
Police officer serves in honour of slain husband
“If I had an inkling of what was to come, I would never have let him go that day.” These are the words of Israeli police investigator Hodaya Harush, whose husband, Eliyahu, was the first policeman to fall on 7 October in Sderot on the Gaza border.
Hodaya is a mother of three and still serves as an investigator at the Netivot Police Station in memory of her husband who fell in what has now become known as the “Battle of Sderot Police Station”. This battle has become a seminal moment on that Black Saturday as a symbol of the heroism of Israel’s police who fought valiantly against a ruthless enemy which threatened the civilians of their town.
Hodaya told the SA Jewish Report that a few nights before 7 October, she had a dream. She was standing with Eliyahu’s shift commander and she was crying. Hodaya tried to erase the dream from her mind, but the events of the days to come would reopen that memory.
On the Thursday before Eliyahu was to start his last shift at the police station, he dropped Hodaya and their three girls off at her father’s house in Petach Tikvah. He was going to collect them after Shabbat ended. They communicated via WhatsApp for the next two days, and one of the last messages Hodaya received from Eliyahu was a sticker with the message “keep an eye out for children who don’t have family”. Her final words to him were, “Chag sameach.”
Saturday morning started with sirens and rocket fire. Hodaya gathered her children, and joined the rest of the extended family in the mamad (shelter). Hodaya, like most Israelis, is used to rocket fire and sirens, and tried to settle the children back to sleep. Her brother-in-law, who was also a police officer, received a message from his patrol unit and was called away. Hodaya understood that something big had happened. Hodaya, who had never broken Shabbat, opened her phone and saw the messages coming in. The news came in that Sderot Police Station had been taken over by Hamas terrorists. Hodaya had seen a picture of the white pick-up trucks with mounted guns on the back synonymous with Hamas that day. She tried to call Eliyahu. She sent messages. She tried another police officer, Mor Shakuri, and there was no answer from either of them. Shakuri was killed that day. Her father, Roni, was killed several weeks ago, when terrorists opened fire on a car he was in with two other officers.
Hodaya’s daughter, Lia, just five years old at the time, told her that she had a dream that her father had been killed. Hodaya felt that the dots were starting to connect. The day passed without any word from Eliyahu or his whereabouts. Hodaya started to call anyone she could to try find out what happened to Eliyahu. She called hospitals, other police officers, and friends. Her heart couldn’t reconcile what she knew logically, that something was wrong. She had seen that the district commander had given the order to demolish the police station and was frantic that he might still be inside.
“On that Saturday, I didn’t know exactly what was happening, and that uncertainty is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. His father and I ran backwards and forwards from the balcony looking for a sign of a patrol car, but none came. It was like a movie. His sister said that maybe he was hiding and without knowing, I told her, ‘I know that Eliyahu would be the first to go out to defend and protect his comrades and the citizens,’” said Hodaya. “He’s the first to save lives.”
At 01:36 in the morning, police officers finally arrived and told her that Eliyahu had been killed. Hodaya’s first question was if the police had the body, and if it was whole. They confirmed that he had been killed at the front of the police station. Hodaya broke down, devastated. At 26, she was now a widow with three small children. She had to find strength for them. Two weeks later, she returned to work.
“Even before they buried my Eliyahu, they came to me from the National Police Academy – I was still in training. They said, ‘Listen, if you don’t want to continue with the course, just tell us.’” Hodaya answered an emphatic no. “The first thing I said to them, without hesitation, was that it was Eliyahu who sent my resume. I told them, this is Eliyahu’s will. Eliyahu made sure that I joined the Israel Police, and I am going to do everything possible to serve as a police officer”, said Hodaya.
Hodaya wrote her eulogy before she knew what happened that morning. She spoke of how he fought in Hashem’s name with bravery and determination to save lives. At the funeral, two officers told her that Eliyahu had saved their lives.
It was at the shiva where Hodaya would find out what happened that morning. A police officer told her the events as they unfolded. Eliyahu was on shift with another officer when they received a call that there was an infiltration at nearby Zikim beach. Rockets were raining down on the south and other parts of the country. He told the officer to gear up – full gear, rifles, vest – everything. They were unaware that Hamas terrorists were already in Sderot. As the police officer exited the building, a pick-up truck arrived and opened fire. He managed to get to a nearby shelter, where he stayed for five and a half hours. Eliyahu ran out, drawing the fire to him as other officers ran to the roof where they were eventually saved. Eliyahu was the first to engage with the terrorists, and the first to fall. He saved the lives of his colleagues who managed to get to safety.
Hodaya has started a campaign to dedicate a Sefer Torah in Eliyahu’s name: https://my.israelgives.org/en/fundme/Harush
Ten police officers fell in the Battle of Sderot, 59 on 7 October, and 66 since 7 October.