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This is a guest essay by Lieutenant Colonel Ariella Mazor, the IDF’s International Spokesperson.
You can also listen to the podcast version of this essay on Apple Podcasts, YouTube Music, YouTube, and Spotify.
When we talk about Israel’s military, we often focus on operations, capabilities, and developments on the battlefield.
Today, I want to focus on the people behind the uniform, through the story of one reservist whose life changed since October 7th. It’s a personal story, but one that reflects the experiences of many Israelis who have put their lives on hold to serve their country.
Six weeks before October 7, 2023, Sergeant First Class B became a father.
He was studying biology at Hebrew University, adjusting to life with a newborn, and building a future with his wife. Like many Israelis, he was also an IDF reservist. His military service was largely behind him, apart from occasional training exercises that amounted to roughly one week a year.
Then, at approximately 10:00 a.m. on October 7th, he received the call.
Within hours, he had left his wife and six-week-old son behind and returned to uniform, he joined hundreds of thousands of Israeli reservists mobilized following Hamas’ October 7th massacre.
He had no way of knowing how long he would be gone, where he would be sent, or how profoundly the coming years would change his family’s life.
More than three years later, Sergeant First Class B has spent approximately 450 days in reserve service, serving across multiple fronts while trying to remain present as a husband, father, and student.
His experience offers a glimpse into a part of Israel’s military that is difficult to understand from the outside: the thousands of ordinary citizens who leave their civilian lives behind when called upon to serve.
Across Israel, people from all walks of life share an experience that is central to the country’s defense: reserve military service. Doctors, engineers, teachers, entrepreneurs, and university students are among those who, after completing their mandatory military service, may be called back to serve in the IDF reserves.
Known in Hebrew as miluim, reserve service is an important part of Israel’s defense system. Reservists contribute across a wide range of military roles, from combat and intelligence to medicine and logistics.
On October 7th, that system was mobilized on an extraordinary scale. As news of Hamas’ attacks spread, thousands of reservists were called up. Many reported for duty within hours, leaving behind their workplaces, studies, and families.
Sergeant First Class B was among them. He was initially deployed to northern Israel. Days later, his unit arrived at Kibbutz Kfar Aza, where IDF soldiers were still working to regain control following Hamas’ massacre. He subsequently spent approximately four months deployed in connection with operations in Gaza, including two months outside Gaza, before serving in Lebanon.
Conditions were demanding. Sleeping, eating, and maintaining basic hygiene presented daily challenges. Soldiers also needed to confront the emotional aftermath of October 7th, carrying personal experiences of loss, grief, and uncertainty. For Sergeant First Class B, however, some of the greatest difficulties awaited beyond the battlefield.
While he was serving in Gaza, his wife was at home caring for their infant son. Neither of their extended families lived in Israel, leaving her to navigate the early months of motherhood with limited family support and a husband deployed to a war zone. They were living through the same war, but experiencing two entirely different realities. He was trying to explain what life was like in Gaza. She was trying to explain what it meant to raise their newborn largely on her own.
Neither could fully understand what the other was going through. Yet both understood the importance of his service to their country’s security.
It is a challenge familiar to many reservist families. The person serving carries the physical and emotional demands of military duty. The person at home carries the responsibilities that cannot be put on hold. And when the deployment ends, those two experiences must somehow fit back into one shared life.
Today, Sergeant First Class B studies medicine at Ben-Gurion University. Balancing education with reserve duty remains difficult, as deployments are unpredictable and academic requirements, including examinations, cannot always be completed remotely.
His experiences also reflect my own life and reality. I am a career military woman, and my husband is a reservist frequently called up to duty. The challenges that poses on our family, including our four children, is immense — and has taught me to have great appreciation for our support system and loved ones.
The experiences of Sergeant First Class B are shared by reservists across Israeli society: students whose degrees are interrupted, professionals who leave their workplaces, and parents who miss irreplaceable moments with their children.
Despite the difficulties, Sergeant First Class B considers his continued service a privilege. But perhaps his greatest motivation comes from the son he leaves behind.
Sergeant First Class B hopes his service will set an example for his child, teaching him sacrifice, responsibility, and helping others. He also recognizes that his son contributes to the country through the time he spends without his father. For Sergeant First Class B, parenthood has reinforced a simple principle: He cannot expect his son to uphold values he himself is unwilling to demonstrate.
His story speaks to something larger about Israel’s reserve system. Military service is often measured in operational achievements, deployments, and days spent in uniform. But those numbers tell only part of the story. They do not capture the missed family dinners, the interrupted careers, the spouses managing households alone, or the children counting the days until a parent comes home.
When we think about military strength, we often think about fighter jets, advanced technology, intelligence capabilities, and sophisticated weapons systems. But the IDF’s reserve force depends on something far more personal: the willingness of ordinary people to step away from the lives they have built — people like Sergeant First Class B. A medical student. A husband. A father. A combat medic. Someone who, before October 7th, expected to spend only a handful of days each year in uniform. Instead, he has spent approximately 450.
His story is one among many; it is the story of the IDF over the last three years. And that is where the story of Israel’s reservists is most clearly told — not only in the places where they serve, but in the lives they leave behind, and the values they hope to pass on when they return.
My father left to England and war before I was born in 1942. He returned and I met him for the first time in 1946. He got out of the train in uniform and hugged us. I know him from the hug between my mother and I. Today is Novermber 11. For all the men and women leaving and coming home, who are gone and still here, I bow my head in love and gratitude. Always.
What a heartwarming essay. May they be blessed, all in the IDF . I know no representative of the IDF could say this openly, but a Jew at large like me can: these men and women not only give the example and sacrifice for the country. They connect over millennia to Ancient Israel, when they too fought nasty neighbors and enemies. It was in the ethos of the people to be thus engaged. It is because of this that the refusal of the Haredim to serve strikes so many wrong notes. Nothing justifies their detachment from the people, whilst expecting the rest of Israel to support and defend them. May there be a new government capable of equalizing the national effort justly and somewhat alleviate the burden on the reservists. The future of Israel depends on it.