By BARRY SHAW
Beckon the voices of those who didn''t make it.What do you hear?What are they telling you?Those, whose spirits rose in the black smoke of a chimney in a bleak, cold, plain in Poland.Or from a damp ditch in a forest somewhere in Europe.What are they telling you?What are they telling us, in Israel?To hand over our land as you would hand over your wallet to a thief in the night?Or to stand proud and defiant and resist?What do you think those voices are saying?
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