St.-Sgt. David Solomonov had volunteered to return to his Golani unit over the Yom Kippur weekend. He had been asking his commanders to serve on Shabbatot and holidays for the past month so that during the week he could attend a matriculation course to prepare for his release from his three years of military service.

He was to have finally taken off his uniform for the last time this coming Sunday when he was slated to begin post army leave and get on with life. Solomonov, 21, was cut down by a Hizbullah sniper Monday. He will be buried Wednesday at the Kfar Saba Military Cemeter.

Since his death, members of Kfar Saba's Anglo community have been streaming through the home of his mother, Evelyn Solomonov, to comfort her in her grief.

The Solomonovs immigrated from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1994 when David was 12.

According to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, his parents met and married in Israel. His mother, a native of Ohio, went to Israel after college and fell in love with a native-born Israeli, Mordechai Solomonov, better known as "Solo."

Their first son, Michael, now a sous-chef at a Philadelphia restaurant, was born in Israel before the family moved to the United States. After working for a time in a family jewelry business, Solo Solomonov opened a Subway sandwich shop in Greenfield.

In Pittsburgh, Solomov attended the Community Day School, a Jewish school. One year Evelyn Solomonov went as a chaperone on a school trip to Israel.

"She hadn't been back since she lived there, and she totally fell in love again with Israel," the Post-Gazette quoted a friend as saying.

And that is what led the family to return to Israel when David Solomonov was 12. His older brother Michael found it difficult and returned to the US. But David loved life in the Jewish state and quickly learned Hebrew, acquiring a sabra's accent.

"You couldn't tell he was American from his accent, but from the way he behaved. He was too polite. He left America but America didn't leave him," said Fran Rotholz, a close family friend.

His parents split up about a year after making aliya and he lived with his mother, but maintained close contact with his father. Evelyn taught English at Herzog High School in Kfar Saba.

David went to Katzenelson High School, where he focused on media and film. His life was so filled with activities, such as learning Capoiera, picking up stray cats and dogs, and volunteering at a veterinary clinic, he he had little time for matriculation during high school.

"He grew into a Zionist. He had a chance to live in the United States, but he chose to make his life here," Rotholz said.

David was filled with idealism and did not want to join the army until he came to understand the importance of it while in 12th grade.

"To be a combat soldier was very important for him," Rotholz said. "He was very optimistic. He learned to sharpen his elbows a little. He was much more of a giver than a taker."

David enjoyed the discipline and order in the army and was glad the Golani Brigade had chosen him.

Solomonov's death touched a chord of fear in many immigrants from the West who have chosen to bring their families here, knowing one day that their children will likely serve in the military.

Too overcome to speak directly, Evelyn asked her friends to say that her son had told her, after a year in the IDF when he completed an educational seminar, he had never felt so close to the state and its heritage.

Evelyn told her hometown paper, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, that her son was proud to be a soldier and proud to be protecting his country.

"But he loved the United States. He was a real American. My friend said you can take David out of America, but you can't take the American out of David," she told the Pittsburgh paper. "Israel is a great country. And I suppose he died defending it, didn't he?"

Surrounded by her friends, and even former students, Evelyn was not alone in her grief. Hebrew had never been fully mastered, and many spoke English for her sake.

"Evelyn feels herself as an Israeli, but there is still a lot of American in her," said her friend Judy.

And then came the knock on the door at the end of Yom Kippur that made the Solomonov family forever an integral part of this country.

"David was her whole world," said Benzion Ben-Moshe, a family friend who runs a bookstore down the street from the Solomonov apartment. "He was such a gentle young man, and now his poor mother is part of the family of the bereaved in Israel."