The Unsung Heroes of the Yom Kippur War

Shlomo Ardinst isn’t just another name in the list of Yom Kippur War prisoners. As the exceptionally young commander of the strategic southern outpost Matzah in the Sinai Peninsula, Ardinst symbolizes the war's spirit through unimaginable heroism. Today, he leads the 'Cities in the Night' organization supporting former IDF soldiers who were held as prisoners of war.

When Ardinst arrived at his post three months before Yom Kippur 1973, the outlook was calm, an illusion shattered when war broke out on Yom Kippur day. He recounts the story of the last outpost on the canal that refused to fall, the captivity in Egypt, and the fight for survival that persisted even after returning to Israel.

A Sudden Shock

"When the Yom Kippur War broke, I was commanding the three southern outposts of the canal near the city of Suez," Ardinst begins. "We were stationed at the largest outpost – 'Matzah', which overlooked a strategically pivotal connection between the sea and the canal.

We had replaced another group who hadn't indicated any imminent threat. Our mood was lighthearted, with most of us close to being discharged from the army. Although quiet and peaceful, we watched the Egyptians up close, differentiating between them and even giving them nicknames.

About two weeks before Rosh Hashanah, things changed drastically. Although there weren't direct threats, there was a noticeable military buildup on the Egyptian side, with new weaponry and continuous drills. This was impossible to ignore."

Did this worry you?

"Absolutely. We constantly reported our observations to higher command, but their response was cold. The week before Yom Kippur, the Southern Command chief and his staff toured the area. They seemed surprised but reassured us afterward that it was merely an 'Egyptian military drill' set to end the Sunday after Yom Kippur, which that year fell on a Saturday. As a result, I didn't think it necessary to keep everyone at the outpost, allowing the outpost commander a holiday leave and preparing a leave schedule for others. Preparations for an Egyptian air force attack were canceled, keeping the environment calm and relaxed."

Ardinst takes us back to that unforgettable Yom Kippur: "During the break between the additional and afternoon prayers, due to the heat in Sinai, we were in bunker shelters underground with only those necessary remaining above. Suddenly, one officer told me, 'We've received an alert for immediate readiness.' Not suspecting war, I assumed it meant artillery fire. Since the Egyptian 'drill' was to end on Sunday, I replied, 'Let’s prepare for this alert after the fast ends.' But soon he returned to clarify, 'This is no drill; it’s a real alert.'"

I equipped myself and hurried to check where this fire was coming from to target our artillery. The fear was a potential Egyptian advance towards Israeli territory, akin to what happened on October 7. I identified Egyptian planes crossing the canal, triggering the first alarm in southern Sinai to alert of an air force infiltration."

Two years recent parallels between the surprise of the Yom Kippur War and the Hamas attack on Simchat Torah often revisit me, Ardinst notes. "In both instances, warnings were voiced, yet higher ranks did not adequately respond. The lesson is clear: always be prepared when in doubt. You might be laughed at, but readiness is crucial."

The Last Outpost

Matzah outpost, under Ardinst's command, was the last to withstand Egyptian forces along the canal. "Most fell on the first or second day, a few on the third, leaving us isolated and unreachable by IDF," he recalls.

"Conditions worsened daily. After eight days, we suffered five fatalities and over twenty injuries, with dwindling ammunition. Some soldiers started collapsing, as we began the war while fasting with a non-standard composition. Some armor corps personnel fought as infantry, and reserve soldiers from the rabbinate helped organize prayers. Despite this, we fought bravely, inflicting heavy losses on the Egyptians. A captured Egyptian officer once told me that we caused over 150 casualties on their side. During the battles, we even scavenged weapons from fallen Egyptian soldiers."

It’s extraordinary that one outpost inflicted such losses...

"Indeed, it was beyond natural. As years go on, it becomes more evident to me that it wasn’t our prowess alone that achieved this. Our ability to survive and fight for eight days defied logic or statistics. We weren’t a commando unit, rather a unit mostly nearing discharge. Nevertheless, each of us gave our all, forming an impenetrable defense.

"Faith also bolstered us. Verses like 'Some trust in chariots, some in horses, but we trust in the name of Hashem' resonated on the radios, with miraculous incidences—a tank set ablaze by friendly fire—reinforcing us. Approaching Sukkot, we spoke of protective clouds and organized holiday prayers in the bunker where the wounded were housed. Such acts empowered us, helping us believe we could survive each day."

What made you surrender after eight days?

"Realizing on the sixth night into the seventh day that the naval commandos couldn’t reach us, I communicated with high command. Using an encrypted voice device, I reported our casualties and lack of ammunition. To my shock, the response was, 'You have permission to surrender.' Until then, surrender wasn’t an option, especially to Egyptians. I feared the worst upon surrendering, recalling shots heard after our neighboring outpost surrendered. Though it wasn’t confirmed, I feared all were executed at the time."

Lowering the flag during surrender

"Initially refusing to surrender, time, poor conditions, and understanding IDF couldn’t reach us led to reconsideration. Our military doctor, around 30 and the oldest, suggested surrendering to the Red Cross instead, aiming for media coverage as protection."

"On the eighth morning, the Egyptians accepted our conditions. I hesitated, contacting command again, and received a direct order: 'Yes, it’s a command.' Reluctantly, I informed the soldiers we were surrendering. Some cried, insisting, 'We’ll keep fighting.' Addressing the wounded's fears, I reassured them that agreeing with the Red Cross meant medical evacuations."

"During weapon destruction and document burning, command abruptly reversed the surrender order. Soldiers, having destroyed weapons, lost battle motivation. Further inquiry on time commitment and supplies yielded vague responses, forcing the realization of surrendering as our safest option. In hindsight, my decision ensured all our captives returned home."

Saluting an Egyptian Officer

"Must Survive"

What was life like in captivity?

"As an officer, I was initially detained separately with several pilots, each in solitary. We endured harsher treatments and longer interrogations for secrets. Later, blindfolded and bound, we were brought to a central prison. There, I was still isolated but somewhat close to other prisoners. Hunger and thirst were constant, basic needs went unmet, and we were often blindfolded.

Maintaining humanity and the will to live was toughest. I preserved sanity by escaping into imagination, recalling cherished moments like enjoying mom’s apple strudel and tea or youth group activities, distancing from harsh reality. My survivor background pushed me to stay alive, acknowledging my father's sole legacy after surviving the Holocaust without siblings.

From onset, I understood captivity was another battlefield, vowing clarity and resilience. Post-interrogation, I revisited statements mentally for accuracy. Rationing half a pita, I slowly consumed it, managing hunger. Emotionally, I gained strength through gestures, sweeping my cell before Shabbat using bare hands and mentally reciting Shabbat prayers."

Ardinst shares his emotional release story: "Close to war's end, Egyptian officers visited, expressing surprise at our tenacity. Understanding my leadership, they conversed openly. Later, meeting Egyptian university professors implied hints of pending peace, realized seven years later."

In a Cairo synagogue

Transferring to a Cairo synagogue showed Egyptians' desire for global impression, parading us as well-treated captives. They let us pray at a synagogue, further emphasizing humane treatment."

At the pyramids in Cairo

Reuniting at Home

Ardinst returned on the last plane of released prisoners, only to face challenges at home. "Unfortunately, Israel wasn’t prepared. Despite citizens giving warm welcomes, military police treated us with suspicion, interrogating us about captivity actions within 24 hours of return, making us feel unjustly accused. Lacking support, we only received psychological help 25 years later, initially facing dismissive attitudes."

Since Simchat Torah 5784, do you think about hostages in Gaza?

"Absolutely. I've spoken with some freed prisoners, noting both differences and shared experiences in captivity. Situations vary, but the common challenge remains: the feeling of powerlessness over your fate. Thankfully, today’s Israel supports returnees fully, drastically different from previous times.

Hope persists: "I believe and firmly hope remaining hostages will return soon and none the worse. As a former captive, I estimate survivors based on initial adjustments continue coping today. I’m confident in their strength and resilience, praying for soon reunions."