Thoughts of a new Oleh

Last summer, friends of mine from Manchester made Aliyah together with their four sons. I spoke recently with the father of the family.  He was candid and shared his experiences with me talking about the Shomrei Yisrael [Guardians of Israel] I hadn’t really considered. So I want to share his thoughts with you:

Amidst the sounds of the war, the brave children who have fallen and the plight of those in captivity, lies an often overlooked yet profoundly significant group: the mothers of soldiers. The women who cry, dread, hurt, yet send their children out without putting up a fight. To the war.

They bear a unique burden. Giving up their children, their everything to the perils of protecting our country. Their sacrifice is the lifeblood of the nation’s defence, yet their struggles are invisible. Each day, there’s fear. There’s dread. Uncertainty. An unconscious wait for the call you never want to come.

My own wife now embodies this struggle. We made Aliyah, moving to Israel only last August. Like all mothers here she can’t stomach much food on Sundays. In January, our first son was drafted, and by May, our second son joined him.  Once Shabbat  ends and the boys go back, I see her fear and anxiety instantly switch on. I think this emotional trauma hits all the army mothers universally, whether born here or recently moved.

Now I pray for the mothers of injured soldiers whose lives come crashing to a halt the second they get the news, because not only will their child need specialist care, but it may be that suddenly they are required to provide that care.

Without time to prepare let alone digest the horrendous situation, mothers of injured soldiers are now on call 24/7 with no formal clinical training, no resources, no support, no pay, no time off and no holidays. hurled into hardest job in the world that they never asked for!!

All praying for a full recovery that will hopefully take only for a few weeks or months, but for some the role of primary carer may be very much long term.

As we continue to lose our soldiers daily and pray for the safe return of our remaining hostages the system may fail to recognise or provide for the needs of this new army of mothers.

Hannah is such a person I met when I visited the newly opened rehab wing unit in Hadassah Hatsofim.  Her strength and courage overwhelmed me to tears. Her son – Dovid, 19,  – was shot twice on October 7th causing a catastrophic life-changing brain injury. Hannah, who has other children serving in the IDF, and still holds down a full time job working late into the night, comes every day to the hospital to care for him.  She is gentle with all the amazing staff who can’t hold a candle to her bedside manner and patient care.

Recent statistics indicate that at least 10,000 soldiers have been injured so far, with the defence ministry preparing for a total of 30,000 likely to be injured before the war comes to an end. That’s nearly a 50% increase of disabled IDF soldiers. Hannah and mothers of injured soldiers are not on the front line, yet they are the backbone of Israel’s defence forces. Every week I have seen her son’s condition improve some might say miraculously and I wonder where he would be without his mum. You will never get to see outpouring of love for Hannah on social media, no rallying of support, no ribbon worn in solidarity …nor would  she dream of asking for it, she’s a Jewish mother after all.

Our mothers deserve all we can give them. They stand behind our soldiers, and we must stand behind them.  Hannah needs our help even more. Providing her and all the other Hannahs with the necessary support and resources is not just an act of compassion but our duty. We must protect them and ensure these unsung heroes receive the care, recognition and crucially the support they rightfully deserve.  Hannah’s strength shines light in a very dark time, I’m grateful to have met her as we navigate our new life she reminds me אין לי מקום אחר.