The war didn’t end; it changed
After serving almost 400 days in reserves, I look around, and I see friends, not in Gaza, not in Lebanon, and not on the West Bank, but in school, at home, and at work. And I’m filled with pride, happiness, fulfillment, pain, and sorrow. We responded on the 7th of October, with remarkable resolve. We left our jobs, families, and universities without hesitation to protect our homeland. Some of us returned scarred. Some never came back. But for many of us who did come back home, our “home” isn’t the same; our war hasn’t ended. We may look or act fine. But deep inside, many of us are not.
According to the Ministry of Defense (MOD), there are over 82,400 wounded veterans in treatment, roughly two-thirds being reservists. They expect to treat an additional 10,000 veterans by 2026, more than half with psychological injuries. A recent IDF Medical Corps Study on reservists found that over 58% show signs of PTSD. Not to mention that this year alone, there have been over 279 suicide attempts amongst soldiers. This brings me back to last year, when a friend of mine sadly did just that and succeeded while at “home”. This made me realize that many of our soldiers, like him, have spent hundreds of days away from home fighting, and now struggle to sleep, think clearly, or get through a “normal” day. This isn’t ok, and everyone should be asking themselves:
What are we going to do?
The government is at last beginning to act. According to the MOD, PTSD and psychological injuries will cost the economy hundreds of billions of shekels. In fact, the Knesset approved a budget increase to ₪8.3 billion, with approximately ₪4.1 billion set aside for mental health treatment, reflecting a 53% increase and showing that the government is finally taking steps to change the narrative, making positive changes, and learning from its mistakes.
With over 31,000 soldiers suffering from psychological injuries, this is not enough. New initiatives like the new rapid-response teams that conduct home visits, or therapeutic group sessions, and psychological support for family members of wounded soldiers, are a huge step in the right direction. However, therapy staffing is critically low, with each therapist managing hundreds of soldiers alone, making one-on-one sessions nearly impossible to book. As a result of long wait times and infrequent meetings, I question whether to open up to my therapist, and I’m sure others do too.
Honestly, would you?
This war has been different from past wars. And many don’t understand what modern combat actually looks like. Combat soldiers have tech like suicide drones, killing from a distance like in a video game… or is it real life? No smell of blood or gunpowder. So, of course, they don’t need treatment; you can’t get PTSD from a video game, right?
Sadly, war isn’t a game; it’s a real traumatic situation. With real people, friends of mine, men and women, soldiers, who have done so much, carried us through the toughest of times we’ve had as Israelis, they’ve halted their lives and run toward danger to protect us and our borders, over and over, and this is their treatment?! To be met with bureaucratic stonewalling.
It’s time to take care of our protectors and warriors.
As Israelis, we must prioritize preventive care over reactive care and continue pushing the government to expand its efforts. The MOD must continue to increase mental health funding so that therapists are available in combat units to treat soldiers effectively, not just once every two months. I argue that each unit must require mandatory therapist check-ins for active-duty and reservists. This is vital to make sure that everyone receives proper care and treatment before symptoms worsen into a crisis, as I’ve seen one too many times.
Recently, their efforts have focused on reducing PTSD among combat veterans and not just responding after the fact. Mental resilience and prevention programs, like mobile crisis units, rehabilitation facilities, and virtual reality support systems, are available. Yet, their integration into field practice remains inconsistent. They need to deploy them and publicly release key performance metrics, including appointments and therapists per soldier, response times, suicide risk incidents, and treatment outcomes.
The stakes are too high to delay. Each life matters.
“Never again” must include how we treat our soldiers. Let’s ease their burden. Deploy therapists, expand funding, and hold ourselves accountable. We have a duty, not just as policymakers or reservists, but as Israelis, as friends and family, to protect those who protect us.
And to help them feel “home” and “normal” again.
The mental war is real. Unless we act now, we will lose.
