Every Memorial Day of Soldiers in Israel (Yom Zicharon as they call in Hebrew)we get the chance to know the real heroes of this country. And who are these soldiers...these are the young soldiers, whose age ranges from 18-25, and whose lives where offered for the liberation of the zionist idealism. And considering the statistics of fallen soldiers here since 1947, when the United Nations accepted the partition thus mandating the creation of a Jewish State, there had been 22,526 dead soldiers and more than half of them are younger than age 25. That is quite a big amount considering how tiny Israel is and whose population is only 6M (that is even smaller than the amount of people living in Manila, Philippines).

It was a somber day for all Israelis. They view the warriors who fall in battle as those who sprout forth life. The life of a nation grew out of this blood... This day must be more than mourning and they expect everyone to remember and grieve. They grieve and yet refuse to believe. They refuse to be consoled because there is no consolation. The price is so heavy to bear for the establishment of the State of Israel.

I watched television and I see parents, wives, children and friends cry for the lost of their love ones. I cried also for their lost and all I could say was that these soldiers were amazing. One of the stories that touched my heart deeply was the story of Michael Levin, a young American who deliberately chose the hard, dirty, dangerous work of the IDF by coming to Israel to enlist in the IDF as a 'lone soldier' and died during the Lebanon war last year.

Many soldiers in Israel are trying to escape the hardships and shit of military life but these man tried and pushed himself to the edge to be in the front line to defend this county. That was unbelievable and noble in spirit.

Well according to the story, "Levin's 'crazy' passion for Israel was ignited during his years at Camp Ramah. While many campers became enthusiastic Zionists, Michael was unique - he never let go of passion for Israel. Levin said that her parents - both Holocaust survivors - had a major impact on Michael's Jewish identity. Their stories, she said, motivated him to leave his family and friends behind in the US, immigrate to Israel and enlist in the elite Paratroopers Brigade.

Michael's decision didn't come easily. His parents tried to convince him to stay in the US, go to college first and then move to Israel. His Holocaust-survivor grandfather offered to buy him the most expensive sports car if he stayed home. "Just pick one and you'll get it," was what Michael was told.

His love for Israel proved to be stronger, and while he partially acceded to his parents' wishes and before enlisting spent a year in Ulpan studying Hebrew and volunteering on a kibbutz, he ultimately enlisted in the IDF.

After arriving in Israel, Michael practically didn't waste his time adjusting to the Israeli way of life before starting IDF training. Michael fought for -- and received -- special permission to join the IDF almost right away. Once in, he fought again to get into the elite Paratroopers Brigade, becoming one of the few former Americans ever to do so. He had to fight against another disadvantage: he was so slightly built, so thin, that the first time he parachuted, he drifted off course. After that, they attached weights to his parachute.

Michael was an overachiever in everything he did. Not only was he an A+ student during his 2001 term at the Alexander Muss High School in Israel, but everyone who knew him came away with a greater love for Israel themselves. "Michael always ran ahead of everyone else," Yael Ariel recalled. "No matter what it was, he volunteered to do it. When he come back to rejoin his unit, they tried to send him to Hevron, but again he fought -- he wanted to serve in Lebanon.

Michael was more than brave. Courage was part of his character.

"Was that brave?" Ariel asked. "That word doesn't really fit Michael - he was more than brave. Michael wasn't a person who did brave things. Instead, courage was part of his character. Like his coming alone to Israel to enlist in the IDF - that wasn't 'brave', so much as it was a reflection of who he was."

"In anything he did, we worked harder than anyone else," Rachel Tova Rott added. "When he was training, he weighed about 125 pounds, but part of the regimen was to run carrying a 120-pound pack. The pack weighted almost as much as he did, but he did it anyway."

Many of Michael's friends and family believe he had some premonition of his fate. "It upset me at the time," Rott says. "He'd say things like, 'if I come back', and 'if I get out of this'. I begged him to stop, not say that, but it wasn't as though he was depressed -- exactly the opposite. It was as though he knew what his job was, what he was supposed to do in this world. And -- just as he did with everything else -- he ran ahead to do it with enthusiasm, happy to be able to serve Israel. He was just the most remarkably upbeat, positive, kind and caring person I've ever met."

"Mike was a very spiritual guy," said Yitzhak Meir, another Jerusalem friend. "Shabbat will never be the same without him. Michael loved to sing zemirot, Shabbat songs. No matter how many we sang, he always wanted to sing one more. One time there was someone at the Shabbat table that wasn't really getting into it, and Mike was encouraging him, 'You gotta sing!' he said. 'You can't feel Shabbat unless you sing!' Then he'd start another song."

"Michael had a unique way of relating to everyone as their best friend," Meir said. "No matter who he was talking to, he made them feel special. In everything he did, he gave his all, whether it was listening to a friend, cheering at a football game, singing on Shabbat, or serving in the IDF."

There are no doubt hundreds of people all over the world who thought of Michael as his or her best friend. "I always knew that if there was ever a time when I needed help, for anything, I could call Michael and he'd come," Yael Ariel said. "If he was anywhere in the area, not on a mission, he'd be there, right away. It would never occur to him that it was too late, that it was a long way, or that he was exhausted himself. If someone needed him, he was there.

"The one thing that comforts me now is that Michael knew we loved him," Ariel said. "Sometimes when people pass away, you feel you should have told them more how much they meant to you, how much you loved them. But with Michael, he knew. He knew how much we all loved him, trusted him and appreciated him. That helps -- to know that he died understanding how much he meant to all of us."

Our Sages tell us that when a righteous person leaves this world, his presence can be felt more strongly in all the worlds than it was during his lifetime. Freed from his physical body, his influence will be even greater.

Michael himself may have understood that. About a month ago, he and a friend from a kibbutz were talking, lamenting the many losses Israel has suffered.. 'Why is it that all the good ones, the stong ones, die first?' the friend asked. Michael thought a moment, then said, "Maybe the real war is up there, and G-d needs them there."

Michael died On Tuesday, August 1, the day his unit, Battalion 101, had been clearing a building in Aita al-Shaab, a southern Lebanese town, when Hezbollah scored a direct hit with an anti-tank missile. Levin was laid to rest in Mount Hertzl Cemetery and was given a hero's ceremony and tribute.

To memorialize Michael's death, Levin's family have established the Michael Levin Memorial Fund for Israel, with the money designated to helping lone soldiers in Israel.

When the day would come when my son will be called to serve the army, should I feel proud of this exceptional sublimity or should I curse this country for taking my son out instead of leading a stable, quiet life? I don't want to see another mother crying again...that could be me. And what if my son would say, "I'd love to serve and give my life for Israel." Should I say no? Wherever Michael's parents got the strength to let him join the army, such depth was admirable and very inspiring. Could I do the same thing....only God knows. I think I'll cross the bridge when I get there!