My story begins in Germany with my grandparents, who made the decision to move to Israel, specifically to work in a nursing home with Holocaust survivors. They were not Jewish. It was a purposeful move to contribute, to heal the scars left by the war. My mom continued their legacy and was volunteering in the same nursing home when she met my dad. They decided to keep working there, and it is among those incredible survivors and their stories that me and my four siblings, Rachel, Zuriel, Urija and Eliav were raised. We are Christian Zionists raised to proudly love and appreciate Israel and the Jewish people.
At the age of 18, our friends were called up to the IDF. And my siblings and I all made the decision to enlist as well. For us, it was obvious. I joined the Search and Rescue combat unit because I wanted to help people in need.
After a year, I was chosen to attend the Commanders’ Course. I enjoyed working with my soldiers so much that I pursued Officers’ school. I continued in the Seach and Rescue battalion and became a Company Commander. Then after 5 fulfilling years of service, I returned to civilian life, with a few weeks of annual reserve service
Then October 7th happened. My younger brother Urija – who served in the Maglan Commando unit – woke me up. He’d been called to base and needed my mom to drive him there.
Another hour passed, when I got a call from my older brother, Zuriel asking me to drive him to base.
Both are combat fighters in their regular service, but it was very unusual to be called up on Shabbat. I knew something very bad must have happened. A few more hours passed, and both my sister, Rachel and I got the call as well. We promptly reported for duty.
My task? Recovering bodies.
As an officer in the Search and Rescue unit, my company was stationed at Kibbutz Be’eri where we searched blown up and burnt houses for bodies, body parts, and DNA. We combed through the remnants, collecting every shred of information about the missing names we received, hoping to provide families with answers about the unimaginable fates of their loved ones. Was she kidnapped? Was he brutally murdered? Was she burnt alive? What happened to the children? It was our job to find answers.
We worked in the destroyed Kibbutz for weeks.
Then I was sent to Gaza. The mission: to uncover any piece of information about the hostages. I can’t go into details about the search locations … but use your imagination, and you’ll understand where we were. We used every resource: dogs, cameras, tracking devices.
What was it like to be a woman soldier in Gaza? No different than any other soldier. We were all motivated, proud and determined to serve our country and do everything we can to bring our hostages home.
Two intense weeks of focus followed, until suddenly, I was yanked from my team and out of Gaza. My battalion commander told me that Urija was seriously injured in Khan Yunis, and that I need to go to the hospital to see him. His horrible head injuries proved fatal, and after four excruciating days, he died. I wish I could tell you more details about his service before he died, but I can’t, because we never had time to talk. He had different missions in Gaza, that I know. I also know that he fought with his team in Kfar Aza on October 7th and saved many people.
The last time I saw him alive was for 10 minutes, right before his first mission into Gaza. He’d given me a big hug and said he was ready. He loved his team, they were like his brothers, and he wanted to be there. Knowing that makes it a little bit easier for me to deal with the fact that he is gone. We are all proud that he, like all the brave soldiers, accepted the sacrifice it could mean to bring our brothers and sisters home; understood that if we don’t destroy Hamas, October 7th will happen again. Urija was 20 years old.
He was a big guy with lots of muscles and a beautiful smile. He was always kind to everyone, always wanted to help. He wasn’t a big talker, but his actions spoke for themselves. He had the warmest hug and always knew the right thing to say. He was my big-little-brother, and I still love him with all my heart.
It is important for me that the world understands the horrors that took place on October 7th. I saw the bodies with missing body parts; houses where people were crammed in and burned alive; so many more horrendous examples of pure evil. Things that I never would have imagined are now tattooed into my mind forever.
These events are proof that without the IDF, there is no Israel. I have no explanation about why – throughout history – there is SO much hatred towards Jews. But, more than ever, Israel has the right – and must – exist, the same as any other country. The army is needed now more than ever and must destroy Hamas.
For those who were murdered, for the soldiers who sacrificed, and for the next generation who cannot live with the constant fear of Hamas coming for them. I am proud to live in Israel and proud to serve in the Israel Defense Forces.
To you, the incredible FIDF community, I extend my heartfelt gratitude. From my first day in the army, my base was filled with your donations.
As a soldier, we appreciate everything you provide us, whether hygiene and food kits for missions in Gaza or rest areas on base, every gift makes a difference and reminds us that there are people, miles away, thinking of us and appreciating what we are doing. Thank you. Am Yisrael Chai.
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