‘It was a moment both magical and heartbreaking.’

By Hezy Laing

Late last week, twenty‑two fathers whose sons were killed in the Iron Swords war boarded a plane for a shared journey to the snowy expanses of Lapland, Finland.

For many of them, this was the first time they had traveled since their loss.

They described the trip as both surreal and deeply healing.

“It feels as if our children chose us to walk together—on this wild adventure to Lapland, and on the long road of life that follows,” one father said.

Avi Harosh, father of Sergeant Rif Harosh, wrote movingly about the experience on social media.

“Rif, my beloved boy, what a strange world we live in,” he began.

“Instead of you and Ido Baruch—your commander and friend—taking your post‑army trip together, I find myself traveling and sharing a room with Ido’s father.”

He reflected on the bond between the two young men.

“Ido was your team leader. You admired him. He had only a month to command you, yet the two of you immediately recognized each other’s strengths.

And now here we are—Yaniv and I, two fathers walking side by side.

Ido and Rif, two sons who fell together.

A world that makes no sense.”

During the trip, Harosh described moments of unexpected beauty.

After three days of jeep trekking, the group boarded a bus that carried them through Lapland’s frozen forests.

At one point, Dedi Simchi, father of Sergeant Guy Simchi, spontaneously took over as DJ, filling the bus with Israeli music.

Harosh looked around and saw twenty‑two fathers, each lost in his own thoughts, quietly crying, comforting one another, offering a hand, a word, a hug.

“It was a moment both magical and heartbreaking,” he wrote.

“A bus full of living fathers and fallen children. Israel in its purest form — tough yet tender.”

Sharon Fisher, father of Major Amir Fisher, also shared his reflections.

“A group of fathers on a powerful journey to distant, icy Lapland.

Whoever said men don’t talk or cry has never met this group,” he wrote.

“The endless white landscape brought a kind of quiet to our wounded souls.

We spent our days in the snow, our nights in long conversations.

I learned stories about their children—heroes just like my Amir—that I had never heard before.”

He concluded with the sentiment shared by many on the trip:

“Our children brought us together.

They chose us to support one another—not only in Lapland, but for the rest of our lives.”