“Coming home from Gaza puts life in proportion”

Ofek Eldar (29), fourth-year student at the Faculty of Engineering, spent the second night of Sukkot in a family dinner at his parents’ house in Kfar Maimon, in the Gaza Envelope, about halfway between Be’eri and Netivot. On his way back to his Ramat Gan home he stopped for gas in Kfar Aza. “15 hours later I found myself back there, in a battlefield. It was surreal,” he recalls.

Eldar is currently completing his BSc electrical engineering at the nano-electronics and signal processing track, and is planning on pursuing an MSc in nano-electronics at Prof. Joseph Shor’s lab. Exactly one year ago he initiated a special hackathon at the Faculty of Engineering, in collaboration with the IDF’s Yahalom Special Operations Unit, where he serves on reserve duty. “On Saturday morning, I was woken up by sirens. I didn’t really mind, I grew up with them, so at first it didn’t seem out of the ordinary. But then I looked at my phone and saw all the videos in the WhatsApp groups. At first I thought it was all fake, until I recognize a place in Sderot in one of the videos, and realized this was serious. I called a friend from my unit and he told me – you need to come.”

By 8 AM he was on his way south. The drive, he recalls, was scary. “It felt like entering a battlefield. I saw hundreds of burned vehicles, and bodies, you can’t believe your eyes. When I reached my unit, it was absolute chaos. I found a set of uniforms, ceramic armor, gear, and asked how I could help. I joined a logistics run to Kibbuts Urim, to back up the unit that was already on the scene. I met a soldier from my regular service days, who’s now a company commander. He told me that he just returned from a battle in the Black Arrow monument and Kibbutz Sufa, and came to restock on ammunition, food and water. They took out 14 terrorists in those battles. I asked if they needed help and he said he was short a signalman, so I joined him. There were ten other soldiers, we joined the commando force and were given the task of entering Kfar Aza, capture the dining hall and rescue anyone we saw on the way. We grabbed gear and provisions and headed out. The road goes through Route 232, the one leading to where the party was and to Kibbutz Be’eri. We saw hundreds of bodies everywhere, burnt cars, fires blazing. Then we got to the Kfar Aza gas stop, where I filled up just the day before. It’s an image I’ll never be able to forget.”

Ofek and his team entered Kfar Aza as battles and gunfire raged all around them. They began evacuating civilians, and eventually took over the dining hall. “We kept hold of the dining hall the whole night, nothing was certain, and every once in a while more terrorists would appear and another battle would ensue. Another long battle was going on in the clinic next to us. Around 7 AM, more troops arrived and we decided to move back because we needed to change phases, from routine to emergency.”

Ofek returned to the unit’s base and joined one of the companies in a bomb disposal role. They began preparing for battle before venturing into Gaza. All along, the unit would be called upon for various operations across the Gaza Envelope, including identifying bodies and making sure they were not booby-trapped. “We were in Reim and Kerem Shalom and Kfar Aza, we saw what it all looked like from the inside. It wasn’t easy. The first thing that comes to mind is the Holocaust, that’s what it looked like,” he recounts. About a week and a half later his unit headed up north where the joined Division 98, and took out three terrorists who attempted to cross into Israel. After three weeks they were ordered to go into Gaza. “We were supposed to go to Khirbet Akhzieh, in south of the Gaza strip, near Nir Oz. We were about 200 meters from our entry point when the mission was called off, and we went back. This went on for almost two weeks – we’re told to go in, then the order is called off in the last minute, and this uncertainty was rough. They told us that war was chaos, and it really is.”

The Injury

Ofek’s company eventually entered the northern end of the Gaza strip on Friday evening, about a month after the war started. “We entered Beit Hanoun, to help Division 252. We captured a few buildings, spent the night and started doing our missions the next day. For five whole days, we would do 3-4 missions each day: walk, capture houses, locate tunnels, neutralize IEDs, check terrorists’ bodies for explosives. After three days of battle our team was left to watch the house and rest, because we were working so hard. We woke up, made coffee, saw the sun rise over Israel, it was very powerful. Then we learned that one of our guys was killed. I went up on the roof, broke down and cried. But there’s not much you can do, we had to get back to the war. We comforted each other, we said we’ll cry and mourn all those who had given their lives, once the war is over.”

A short while later, Ofek’s team was called to assist a force that was cornered in a booby-trapped house. “We arrived, took out two tunnels and went to check out another house. We got to the yard and already something felt off. We said, let’s get out of here, then one of the members of our team walked to the other side of the house. I was maybe 7 meters away from him, and when he got to the other end there was an insane explosion. I was thrown on the floor, fell down, lay on my side, opened my eyes – complete darkness. I remember asking myself: Am I dead? Am I blind? If I’m, dead, is this what death is like? That’s it? Darkness? It’s true what they say, that life flashes before your eyes, an entire film sprinted through my mind in a single millisecond. What about the promises I made to my family, to look out for myself? What about my friends? My plans for the future? Everything, gone in a second? After a few long moments of complete darkness I realized that the darkness was a cloud of black smoke that engulfed all of us. I got up, noticed I had blood on my arms and legs, realized I could see, hear, smell – I’m alive. A few seconds later, the guy who walked to the other side of the house came back, covered in blood. We got out, and after a while I felt something was poking me under the vest. I looked down and pulled out a chunk of metal from my stomach. I didn’t even feel I got hit.”

To this day, no one knows what caused the explosion that caught Ofek and his team. It might have been a tunnel that exploded underneath them, or an AAM that hit the wall and ricocheted. “The evacuation was insane. They carried us to the Hummer on gurneys, and then to a helicopter, where we were treated by soldiers from Unit 669. Within 25 minutes I was in Ein Karem. That’s where we learned I had 5 pieces of shrapnel in me. We got rid of three – I took out one, and two came out on their own. They tried to remove one from my chin, but couldn’t. I still have two in me, one in my wrist and one in my chin. The other guy got hit with 35 pieces. Both of us ended up being declared as having minor injuries. I am grateful every day. It could have ended differently.”

Ofek was hospitalized for three days, after which he asked to be discharged. “I went into the hospital because I was worried about blast injuries,” he says. Ten days after the injury he was already back in service, for his company’s second rotation in Khan Yunis. “After I was injured, I knew for sure that I’ll be going back. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting my friends go in without me. Another reason I was so insistent to go back was the key emotion that wouldn’t leave me – shame. How is it that I, the guy in charge of bomb disposal, had that happen to me? Today I know that it’s not a rational thought, but it haunted me, and I needed to go back into Gaza and deal with it. I spent another month in Gaza, did some successful bomb diffuses, and as far as I’m concerned that was my redemption. I need to tell everyone on reserve duty that whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid, and you should talk about it and treat it, even if it seems negligible. I spoke to a lot of soldiers, many of them carry around that feeling of ‘I didn’t do enough’ or some sense of shame, ‘I’ve got no right to complain, I hardly did anything.’ It was a jolting year for all of us, and a lot of emotions rise, sometimes from unexpected places. Processing the experiences and feelings is crucial for preventing post-trauma.”

Routine

In February, Ofek returned to Bar-Ilan to complete his fourth year at the Faculty of Engineering. “Coming back to school was hard,” he admits. “Coming back from Gaza puts life in entirely different proportions. I used to get worked up about a bad grade or failing a project, today I write code and who cares, just a minute ago I was hanging between life and death. Everything feels meaningless, and talking with the guys on my team and other combat soldiers I learned it’s not just me. After we got out from Gaza they sent us on a yoga retreat and everyone shared how difficult it was to return to a regular routine, that they didn’t want to go back to school, to the job they used to love. At the workshop they told us that it’s because the brain takes time to get used to a new survival environment. Before the war we lived a life where survival was work, studies, chores, things like that. All of a sudden we were thrown into a situation where my biggest concern was finding the right corner of the house where I wouldn’t get hit by a missile. We have to reprogram our brains.”

Due to this lack of motivation, Ofek decided to cut back on his course load for the first semester, choosing to dedicate his time to volunteering at the university’s mentorship program. “The program essentially saved me during that semester, both as a mentee and a mentor. I mentored first and second-year students, helped people who served on reserve duty, and it brought back my sense of meaning. The university really looks out for students on reserve duty: they called to check up on us constantly, sent me flowers and chocolates when I was injured. I’m really happy to be a student at Bar-Ilan, I got amazing treatment from the entire faculty and administrative staff.” Ofek still gets called to duty, and has already returned to his unit twice – not as a combat soldier, but in a role that utilizes his skills as an engineer.

This semester, Ofek is a TA for the signals and systems course. “On my first lesson, I had the first slide detail the emotional support that the university provides, so they could know what is offered, and I keep telling them to feel free to talk to me, and if not me then with the relevant people. I want to remind our lecturers at the faculty of Engineering and the university in general, to be more attentive to the students who serve; just because they’re not currently in Gaza or up north doesn’t mean they’re not going through something. Some student serve part-time and their jobs are no less important, and they’re also expected to do well in school. It’s not simple, it’s nearly impossible. You’re mind isn’t truly here, focused on school. I want to remind them that it’s not just students who serve who are struggling. There are evacuees from the south and north, Nova survivors, spouses of students on reserve duty, and anyone affected by the war in some way or another. There are so many stories. So I want to remind our lecturers to be just a bit more sensitive and attentive to their students, even if they don’t have ‘justifiable cause’.”