In the early days of October 2023, I was in the United States with my fiancé, traveling across the country on a six-week road trip. As an Israeli engineering student about to enter my final year, driving from Montana to Los Angeles along those expansive open roads was a liberating experience. With my wedding on the horizon and just one year left at Afeka Academic College of Engineering in Tel Aviv, it felt like the possibilities for our future were endless.
That levity came crashing down on October 7, as we watched the chaos back home unfold when Hamas terrorists infiltrated our border and killed 1,200 innocent civilians, kidnapping hundreds more. At that moment, we realized an uncertain future lay ahead. But one thing we did know for certain – our vacation was over and we had to go home.
Once we returned, I was immediately ready to serve my country and put my uniform back on. However, I had no idea that I would be wearing it for some 300 days straight.
The experience of planning a wedding while based in an active war zone along the Lebanese border and then, later in, Gaza, was surreal to say the least. While trying to coordinate with vendors and choose venues – options that were extremely limited due to the situation – I also heard of my fellow soldiers being wounded or even killed during my service.
We did finally get married and I got to embrace my wife under the chuppah, but the joy of that moment was shattered when the very next day I learned that a good friend of mine was wounded and two soldiers who were there to secure the area were killed on my wedding day. Nobody wanted to tell me before my wedding, not wanting that tragedy to overshadow such a momentous day. The next morning, when most couples take time to enjoy the afterglow of their wedding day, we instead went to a funeral.
Throughout all of this, my academic future hung in the balance. Suddenly, I found myself having to juggle my studies and military service simultaneously – not an easy feat when rockets are flying overhead and it's impossible not to be distracted by the constant reminders of war. At first, I was certain I wouldn't be able to complete my final project in time to graduate with my class. The thought of watching my friends graduate while I stayed behind was devastating.
But somehow, between missions and military duties, I managed to catch up on assignments and exams. Afeka did their best to accommodate the unique needs of student-reservists like myself – and there were many of us, with 42% of Afeka's students in active IDF service at one point during the war. As of now, I only have my final project standing between me and graduation, and while it once seemed impossible, I believe I'll be able to complete it in time to graduate alongside my classmates, hold that diploma, and be proud of what I managed to accomplish under extraordinary circumstances.
My story isn't unique, of course. We all had our challenges as we shared this burden of protecting our country together. Each of us found ways to balance our duties to both country and future.
In many ways, my wedding reminded me of the feeling most Israelis have during the transition between Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day) and Yom Haatzmaut (Independence Day). On Yom Hazikaron, we attend memorial services, the songs on the radio are somber, but when the sun sets, we begin to celebrate that despite our sacrifices, we have built an incredible country.
We've now been conditioned to maneuver between joy and grief on a regular basis. Our personal triumphs are often undercut by waves of despair – for our friends and family who fell in battle, for our hostages who are still in Gaza and the other ones who weren't lucky enough to make it out alive.
If anything, though, what my experience of nearly a year of military reserve duty has taught me is that we need to value our achievements, both big and small – and to know that with dedication and determination, we are capable of anything, even completing an engineering degree from the front lines of a war.
