The phone rings. It’s my son Aryeh (a.k.a Erik). He’s been busy fighting a war, and we haven’t spoken in a while, so I drop everything, try to get my emotions in check before answering. “Hi Ima,” he says, “I’m OK but…” I heard that twice during the 354 days of miluim reserve duty Aryeh served in this current war. He was injured on two separate occasions. But, if he was calling me, it was going to be something that we could handle, I hoped. I have been an army mom for 11 years, with three lone soldiers, who were at one point serving at the same time. They weren’t the first phone calls of this kind, but they were the most serious.
I won’t go into the details of those events, because I wasn’t there, and I am sure I received a highly sanitized version of what really happened. Suffice it to say, scary isn’t a descriptive enough word.
After both injuries, he went straight back into miluim as soon as he was able, even though I thought he should stand down. But that’s Aryeh. He couldn’t walk away from his duty, even though he had permanent injuries, even if his mom asked him to. Hero isn’t a big enough word.
I cannot even bear to imagine what he witnessed and experienced. No one should ever have to go through such a gruesome time. I have a “don’t ask – don’t tell” policy when it comes to army stuff, and my soldiers protect me by not sharing things they know would upset me. It comes as no surprise that Aryeh was recently diagnosed with Combat PTSD, and was subsequently discharged from the army in order to get help and to heal. The fact that he is a Major and a Company Commander with a lot of responsibility hasn’t made him immune from suffering. And to have to walk away from his team, from his soldiers for whom he feels responsible, in the middle of the war, is so painful for him.
Aryeh made aliyah 11 years ago, and served seven years in the IDF instead of the standard three, rising up through the ranks. He left an easy middle-class life in North America because his soul yearned to be in Israel. He built himself a life in Israel, a career path, and integrated well into Israeli society. But then October 7 happened. Without even receiving his tzav 8 army call-up (which, like many reservists, he received 24 hours later), he jumped in his car to join his unit and fight for his country, for his people. In civilian life, he is a police officer, and he had been due to start his master’s degree in law enforcement soon after the war started. He had just moved into a new apartment on October 1 – didn’t even have a chance to unpack. But, like so many other soldiers and their families, civilian life got put on hold.
When a person is what’s called a lone soldier (generally, a young person who has made aliyah, joined the IDF, but their immediate family – parents, etc – live in the diaspora) doing the mandatory three years of service, there are extra benefits financially, and otherwise – a day off every so often to run errands, time off to be allowed to fly back “home” to see their parents once during their service, etc. But all that extra TLC ends when mandatory service is over. Whether they be in extended service (keva) or in the reserves, or marry a fellow lone soldier, all their lone soldier rights are terminated. How is this allowed?
Generally, a reservist goes back into the army for a few weeks every year. The length of this war is unprecedented, and the extreme length of time some of the soldiers are serving was never anticipated. My son was released from the army because he was no longer fit for service, because he needed to take care of himself, physically and mentally. He went home. To an empty apartment filled with boxes that needed to be unpacked. With no one around to check up on him.
The army washed their hands of him – they have other things to do and were certainly not going to sit around and hold his hand. But how can you leave a person who is suffering from PTSD alone? Who is permanently injured? How can you just leave them to twist in the wind? Where is the advice, the support, someone to hold his hand, especially because I cannot be there physically?
Most other soldiers get to go home to their families, to the warmth and structure they have grown up with. They’re not alone. If they are in a life-threatening state, the family will never leave them alone and will do everything in their power to get help. And they know the system and how to get help, and if not, then they know who to reach out to who does know.
Lone soldiers don’t have that support system. In the past two weeks alone, two lone soldiers in the reserves died by suicide – young men who the country and the army failed. How many more funerals will my sons need to attend of their fellow lone soldiers who died at their own hands because they felt so hopeless and lost and did not have where to turn? Lone reservists need to know that they can and must reach out for help with their challenges, not keep them to themselves. They shouldn’t have to suffer alone.
Aryeh was at the Knesset this past week, meeting with MKs and lone soldier organizations and their representatives to talk about lone soldier reservists, and their rights, and how things need to change for them. His testimony at a meeting of the Immigration Committee to discuss the status of lone IDF reserve soldiers was fraught with emotion. I have not seen him cry in over a decade and a half. To see my big, strong, heroic son break down and explain how lonely he feels, how forgotten, how he does not know where to go from here, as his life trajectory has completely changed – to see that broke me completely. Everything he has achieved up until now, all his plans are for naught because he fought in the war for his country and is paying a massive toll for it. How can an injured veteran be ignored when he has given so much with his service?
My son is hurting. My son is suffering. My son feels neglected and ignored. Even if I was spending time in Israel, that would not change. Yes, I could fill his freezer with challah and chicken soup. I could run errands with him/for him. I could be a presence so that he doesn’t feel alone. But he’d still be injured and eventually, I would have to leave and he’d be alone again. At the end of the day, he has to live his life, and learn to adapt to the changes that will be necessary so that he can live a fulfilling life in the country that he loves – but he cannot do that without support.
I cannot be there and it hurts so much. I cannot fix him. I cannot fix the situation. Change has to come from within Israel, within the IDF, within the government. Lone soldier reservists need more support in every way – and the injured ones need it all the more so. These brave young men and women should not be ignored or made to feel insignificant. When they are already struggling with their mental health, loneliness can push them over the edge. If you have soldiers in your life (and who in Israel doesn’t?), check in on them and make sure they have what they need. Make sure they have who to talk to, even if it’s not you.
My heart is broken for my son. This isn’t something that a forehead kiss can make better. It is the responsibility of every single Israeli, for whom Aryeh fought in this war, to make sure that injured veterans are all well taken care of, and have everything that they need to heal. It’s a national responsibility. These young men and women gave up everything they had to come to Israel. It needs to change. And that starts with you.
The Knesset committee is meeting again on Monday, December 2. Ahead of that meeting, please take a moment to message the committee chair Oded Forer — odedfo@knesset.gov.il — with your support and with your message.
In the meeting that Aryeh attended, only two members of Knesset were present, Oded Forer and Moshe Tor-Paz, and the meeting hall was mostly empty. Where was Ofir Sofer, the Minister for Aliyah? Does this not fall into his bailiwick? Email him – sar@moia.gov.il – to insist that his presence is required at the meeting and that this issue requires his involvement in the discussions.
Where were the other Knesset members? They need to show up. This needs to matter. This needs to be in the front of policymakers’ minds so that our lone miluimnikim get everything that they need and more, including healthcare, mental healthcare and support. Rehabilitation needs are different for lone soldiers. If we don’t fight for them, who will?
https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/im-ok-but-one-soldiers-war-story/