"I decided to start sending letters… until my long-awaited release"

Ami, my uncle, wrote these words when he was 18. I never knew him. In 1967 he died in battle.

Through the stories, the Memorial Day ceremonies, and his letters, Ami was always both absent and present in my life.

Grandma, Ami's mother, is 90 years old. She is like a second mother to me.

Recently her health has deteriorated and I applied to the Defense Ministry for the assistance in nursing care, to which she is entitled as a bereaved mother. They refused and their answer left me confused.

50 years after Ami's death I started to investigate the story and revealed a big gap between what I knew and what actually happened.