Israel Marks Second Memorial Day as War Rages

Wednesday, 30 April 2025 | An air raid siren splits the sky, its wail a prick to the soul. At most times, in most places, it is a harbinger of danger, an ear-piercing announcement of an incoming attack. But in Israel, two days per year, it’s a call to something deeper: an adjure to stop, stand and remember. 

Last week, on Yom HaShoah or Holocaust Memorial Day, the siren sang out to Israel’s memory of six million Jews lost to Nazi horrors. Then again, on Yom HaZikaron, the Day of Remembrance for the fallen Soldiers of Israel and victims of terror, the Jewish homeland freezes, hearts synchronized in grief, to honor those who carved out this improbable nation with their blood. On Yom HaZikaron, sorrow grips Israel’s collective soul as her people grieve for those who died defending their nation. 

Last night, the first siren howled, and for one minute, a nation stood still—drivers on highways, children in playgrounds, mothers in homes and soldiers standing guard. At 11:00 a.m. today, another two-minute siren sounded in memory of the names etched into the white stones of Israel’s cities and homes, still alive in the spirit and hearts of those for whom they gave all. 

“A man is not dead while his name is still spoken,” Terry Pratchett wrote. Israel recalls and speaks the names of their fallen; somehow willing them toward perpetual memory. 

This year, the wound is especially raw, immediate and acute. The sorrow is fresh from October 7, 2023, when Hamas massacred so many innocent Israelis. Moreover, the relentless war against Hamas and Hezbollah has taken a heavy toll on Israel’s brave fighters. The grief of every Israeli is in no way abstract. Nearly everyone knows one of the fallen: a neighbor, a brother, a mother, a friend—an empty seat at every table.

A Ledger of Loss 

Since 1860, Israel has buried 25,420 souls, soldiers and civilians. Combat, terror attacks and war’s relentless onslaught claimed them. Since last Yom HaZikaron, 319 more soldiers and 79 more civilians fell. 

These numbers aren’t merely statistics. Israel is a tiny nation; its population almost like an extended family. That makes 25,420 dead a significant wound felt in each home. Then there are the civilian hostages and soldiers still imprisoned in Gaza. They are not gone; they are missing, their absence a heavy weight like a stone in Israel’s consciousness. 

Rituals of Remembrance

The siren last night at 8:00 p.m. officially ushered in Yom HaZikaron, followed by rallies and a ceremony at the Western Wall. There, in Israel’s holiest spot, President Isaac Herzog and other leaders bowed their heads to honor the 25,420 fallen. Names scrolled on TV screens, a relentless litany of mourning and remembrance.

Today, 52 military cemeteries hum with grief. Flags adorn graves, honor guards stand straight as ramrods and families whisper the kaddish or mourning prayer. Memorial candles are lit in homes, synagogues and schools, their glow a quiet defiance against despair. 

From Ashes to Anthem 

As sundown falls on Yom HaZikaron, Israel and its people go from sorrow to yield to the joy of Yom HaAtzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day. The pivot from mourning to jubilation is jarring, yet that is also the point. Those 25,420 fallen didn’t sacrifice in vain; they gave their lives to forge a nation. That’s why the nation grieves with a fierceness matched only by the collective faith, hopeful expectation and joy of the Jewish people. Today, the olive tree sways mournfully, gently and stubbornly over Israel, whispering of both promises kept and prophecies yet to unfold. Faith, small as a mustard seed, will bloom into something that lasts forever. The sirens fade, but the names of those for whom it has been rung—and the hope of those who hear it—will continue to echo in this nation into a destiny ordained for eons.