Once we were driving on Road 443, and a frightened [settler] woman stopped us saying stones were thrown at her. The commander immediately turned around – “We’re entering the village” —and we went to Lower Beit Ur village, the whole show, storming in on the jeep, the lookout directs us, we arrive at the house, there were 20 children there. “Everyone line up.” My commander liked me, but before we got going he said to me: “***, don’t be a wimp here,” meaning, don’t show any mercy. We get there, face them: “Stand in line! Who threw stones?” Everyone is scared. Five soldiers, with guns, try to catch those two 13-year-olds who threw two stones.

The woman stops next to you and tells you that stones were thrown at her? The lookouts were on to this? No, we saw two children on the road beyond the fence, and later she came and we realized it was them. The lookout said they were identified and that they were on their way back to the village. We didn’t know exactly where they were, we got to the house and caught those three kids by their clothes, none of them confessed. We were there for about 20 minutes, they were lined up in front of the house, we were pointing our guns at them and facing a bunch of trembling kids, who’d be pissing in their pants in a moment, and the commander yells: “Who is it?!” and grabs the oldest one. “Tell me who it is and you won’t get in trouble, don’t worry, we’ll take him and bring him back.” We picked up three kids there. The mother was crying, the women were all in tears, the kids were shackled, taken into the jeep, scared. I just try to think what they must have felt, what it’s like to be taken in an army jeep. I was sitting in back with one of those kids and the jeep bumps along the road, those roads out there… I took the driver’s helmet because he doesn’t need it in front, and placed it on the kid’s head. The driver turned around, saw the kid with his helmet, and said: “What are you doing?! I can’t wear it after this!” I got annoyed, I mean, what? If he wears your helmet then it’s filthy? “You’ll wash it out for me,” he said. What a buddy… When he got to company HQ, first he washed out his helmet in soap and water, and only then put it on his head, because it had been on the kid’s head for a few minutes. And this is a guy who votes for the Labour party, claims he is a leftie, but this disgusts him. How has this happened to us?

What happened to the children in the end? I think they were brought back two days later. No jail space would be wasted on them.

The kids confessed at some point? No, we got a lookout’s identification for them, jeans and a red shirt. One of them escaped me when I shackled them, not too tight, so he released himself and ran. He was not chased. We were not sure it was them, and only on Friday night, back from Bil’in, our commander said: “They were it, alright,” and everyone applauded. So we weren’t sure, we picked up whoever was closest to the description. I thought then that if that’s how they’re treated, they’ll be back two days later, and instead of throwing a stone they’d want to hurl a fire bomb… They should have been given chocolate and a sandwich and a good talking to. Now I know if that wouldn’t have helped either. Bringing their mother and saying to her: “Your kids can get in trouble,” with a smile. This is one of those little incidents that you just take for granted. You choose two who look close to the description, and then you have a soldier washing out his helmet after the kid had it on.