Family and friends of Master Sergeant Tzvika Lavi honored the fallen soldier at his funeral at the Mount Herzl Military Cemetery in Jerusalem on December 12, 2023. Photo: Yonatan Sindel/Flash90
Twenty-four-year-old Amichai Yisrael Yehoshua Oster was in Salt Lake City, Utah, when he received his “Tzav 8” (emergency call-up notice) from the IDF. Having completed his required IDF service, he was to report for duty as a reservist. However, when he contacted his commander, he was told they had “over 100 percent affirmative answers.” His commander told him: “You do not have to come back right now.” Nevertheless, Amichai flew back to Israel as quickly as he could, found a different unit that needed a soldier with his skills, and was sent to the Gaza border.
“He joined the thousands of young men who rushed back to Israel to fight for their country and for all of us,” says his mother, Marcy.
Sergeant First Class Amichai Oster was killed in Gaza last January while fighting to defend the Jewish State. Courtesy of the Oster family
This past January, Sergeant First Class Amichai from Karnei Shomron, of the 5th Brigade’s 7020th Battalion, was killed fighting in Gaza. “He did exactly what he wanted to do, and he died doing it. Now he will be frozen in our memories as a brave, caring, beautiful young man . . . a quiet hero,” says Marcy.
Since the advent of the war in Gaza, bereaved families are tragically becoming a growing sector of Israeli society, a sector intimately connected to one another through pain and loss. And yet at the same time, many of these families, like the sons they sacrificed, are imbued with a strong sense of spiritual mission. Even while grieving, these mothers, fathers, siblings and wives take comfort in knowing their loved ones sacrificed their lives for a sacred cause: serving G-d and the Jewish people by defending the Jewish State.
“Amichai loved this land—all of it. He was determined to serve his country,” says Marcy.
She recalls that when her son returned home to join the war, “I told him I felt responsible for the fact that he was fighting in this war. He didn’t make the decision to come on aliyah. I made it for him. [The Osters had made aliyah from Cleveland when Amichai was a toddler.] He said, ‘What makes you think that had you not made aliyah I would not have come here to fight for this country?’
“He was strong in his religious beliefs and firm in his connection to the State of Israel,” says Marcy.
The Osters have four other children, including a daughter who recently got married. “It hasn’t been an easy time,” says Marcy, a journalist working for Ynetnews. “We have been strengthened by the most amazing support from the community of Karnei Shomron, by Amichai’s friends, by the IDF, by complete strangers from all over Israel who have given to us and helped us in every way. . . . The tremendous amount of care shown us has been overwhelming.”
After high school, Amichai decided to attend Yeshiva Shavei Hevron, where he spent two and a half years in a program of advanced Torah learning. Afterward, he enlisted in the IDF, where he served for three years.
Sergeant First Class Amichai Oster davening with tefillin just hours before he was killed. Courtesy of the Oster family
Upon completing his army service, Amichai wanted to pursue his interest in travel. “He enjoyed exploring the length and breadth of Israel,” says Marcy. His dream was to travel to the Far East, which he did. While Amichai was in Vietnam, the Osters received an email from an Israeli friend of a businessman who had met Amichai during his travels. “We were proud to hear Amichai had the same ideals and practices in the Far East as he had in Israel,” says Marcy. “We were told he was a ‘walking kiddush Hashem.’ He put on tefillin each morning, davened, ate kosher and kept Shabbat. When the group he traveled with told him they would like to continue hiking on Shabbat, he would tell them to go ahead and he would catch up with them. Inevitably, the group would decide to find a Chabad and spend the Shabbat together. Amichai’s quiet, dedicated example set the tone for others to follow.”
A Spiritual Mission
Yeshivat Bnei David, in the settlement of Eli, has lost a disproportionate number of students since the Swords of Iron War began. A religious pre-army mechinah, renowned for its high number of graduates who enlist in combat units in the IDF, Bnei David lost twenty-three of its alumni. As of this writing, since October 7, Israel lost more than 787 soldiers, officers and reservists.
Regarded as “a West Point for Religious Zionists,” Bnei David, with about 1,200 students currently enrolled in its programs, is said to “build your soul,” giving soldiers not only physical training but more importantly, a sense of spiritual mission.
Rabbi Eli Sadan, rosh yeshivah of the Bnei David mechinah (army preparatory academy), looking at the photos of his students who have sacrificed their lives defending Am Yisrael.
“Being a Jew means you are willing to give up your life,” says Rabbi Eli Sadan, the venerated rosh yeshivah of Bnei David, in a video entitled “In Your Blood You Shall Live: Emunah and Remembrance,” co-produced by Bnei David and the OU (https://www.ou.org/yom-hazikaron-2024/). In 2016, Rabbi Sadan, who founded the yeshivah in 1988, was awarded one of Israel’s highest honors, the Israel Prize for lifetime achievement and special contribution to society and the State. Like his rebbeim at Yeshivat Mercaz HaRav in Jerusalem, Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Kook and Rabbi Zvi Thau, Rabbi Sadan firmly believes that the founding of the State of Israel marks the beginning of Redemption. Consequently, defending the state is a mitzvah, a historic and religious mission.
This echoes the ideas expressed by Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, who wrote (“The Ideology of Hesder,” Tradition 19:3 [fall 1981]):
We advocate [young men joining hesder] because we are convinced that, given our circumstances—would that they were better—military service is a mitsvah, and a most important one at that. Without impugning the patriotism or ethical posture of those who think otherwise, we feel that for the overwhelming majority of b’nei torah, defense is a moral imperative.
“We are living in a generation in which responsibility for the security of the State of Israel and her citizens is a supreme value,” said Rabbi Sadan in an interview posted on the Bnei David website. “We are writing the most meaningful moments in the history of our people and the whole world.”
Tzvika Lavi
One of the alumni of Bnei David who lost his life in the Gaza war this year was Master Sergeant Tzvika Lavi.
A resident of the Binyamin region town of Eli, Tzvika was thirty-one years old when he was badly injured in one of the ongoing battles in Gaza on November 20, 2023; he succumbed to his injuries on Chanukah. He left behind parents, four siblings, his wife Talia and three children under the age of five.
“Physically, he left, but spiritually he remains with us,” says Talia.
Those who fall for the city of Jerusalem are not called fallen.
. . . There are no fallen . . . only those who cleave to Hashem.
Tzvika was a social worker working in a hostel in Rosh HaAyin for individuals with mental health problems and addictions. Working there for two and a half years, he touched the hearts of so many patients and colleagues that after he was killed, the facility was renamed in his honor and is now called “Beit Lavi Hostel.”
“Family was important to him,” says Talia, “and before Shabbat candle-lighting in our home, Tzvika made sure to have quiet time to spend with our children. His goal was to be a better person every day, and we try to follow in his footsteps.”
“You should not worry about me,” Tzvika told his mother, Miriam, in her last conversation with him. “It’s not about me; it’s about our country. We will get through this.”
After he was injured, he was transferred to the Assuta Medical Center in Ashdod, where he was sedated and ventilated for three weeks until Chanukah, when he passed away. “After he was injured, we prayed and felt the comfort of prayers for his recovery from people all over the world,” says Talia. “However, on Chanukah [the doctors told us], we needed to say goodbye. As our family stood around Tzvika, we sang the songs from seudah shelishit that he loved. I had the zechut to say Shema in his last moments.” Talia feels a deep sense of gratitude to Hashem that she had time to say goodbye, giving her a sense of closure.
Talia, the wife of Tzvika Lavi, says her late husband used to make sure to have quiet time before Shabbat candle-lighting to spend with his children. Seen here, Talia holding one of her and Tzvika’s three children.
“At first, when he was injured and lying in the hospital, I envisioned his recovery and told myself he would be okay. Once he died, I realized that the ‘okay’ would be a different sort of okay. Yet I knew it would be good,” she says.
Talia says their community is building a synagogue in Tzvika’s memory.
The eldest of four siblings, Tzvika was born after his parents went through many years of fertility treatments. The Puah Institute, which is based in Israel and helps couples with fertility problems, is naming a new psychology program in Tzvika’s honor for those going through treatments.
“There are no fallen soldiers”
Like Amichai and Tzvika, many young Religious Zionists who serve in the IDF are infused with a love of Torah, the Land of Israel and the Jewish people. In fact, a significant number of them go on to become career officers who devote many years of their lives to exemplary military service. “Approximately fifty percent of our alumni have served as IDF officers in fighting units and elite commando units,” says Lior Shtul, CEO, Bnei David. Many distinguished fallen soldiers are among Bnei David alumni, including Emmanuel Moreno, a member of Sayeret Matkal, an elite IDF unit, who was killed in the 2006 Lebanon War and has been compared to Bar Kochba.
How does the yeshivah view the enormous sacrifice—more than twenty precious alumni since October 7? This is the price we have to pay, they maintain. “The Land of Israel is acquired through tribulations,” explains Rabbi Yigal Levinstein, one of the founders and co-directors of Bnei David, in a video on the yeshivah website. “This tribulation [the latest war] is of love, not punishment. This is a process of growth. We grow from adversity.”
In the Religious Zionist worldview, soldiers who die al kiddush Hashem are not just viewed as military heroes—they are spiritual heroes.
Friends and fellow soldiers mourn the loss of Master Sergeant Tzvika Lavi, one of Israel’s fallen defenders. Photo: Yonatan Sindel/Flash90
When we talk about soldiers who give their lives, we use the word “nofel,” one who has fallen. But, says Rabbi Levenstein, this is incorrect. Those who put their lives on the line for the Jewish people are elevated to the highest levels. “Those who fall for the city of Jerusalem are not called fallen. Those who fight for Jerusalem are cleaving to Hashem. There are no fallen . . . only those who cleave to Hashem.”
Captain Ori Shani
Hundreds of bereaved families in Israel feel strongly about the need to attain victory in the current war and eliminate Hamas. They feel their loved ones went to battle with a goal, and they want that goal fulfilled.
One of the major voices representing these families is the HaGevurah Forum, which represents bereaved families of soldiers, led by Rabbi Yehoshua Shani of Kiryat Arba, chairman of the Forum and himself a bereaved parent, father of Captain Ori Shani.
A platoon commander in the 51st Battalion of the Golani Brigade, Captain Shani, twenty-two years old, was killed in a battle near Kibbutz Kissufim on October 7. “His men embodied the best and he loved them,” remembers Rabbi Shani. “He worked them very hard so they would develop their bodies, their minds and their skills. They were ready for war and fought valiantly.”
We are living in a generation in which responsibility for the security of the State of Israel and her citizens is a supreme value . . . We are writing the most meaningful moments in the history of our people and the whole world.
He and his team were heralded for their incredible bravery, and they are credited with saving the lives of many and neutralizing more than thirty-five terrorists in the aftermath of the Simchat Torah attack. They fought relentlessly until they were surrounded; they were running out of ammunition and were nearly without water.
“After three hours of fighting, the men were exhausted. To boost their spirits, even with terrorists still around, Ori took a selfie with his soldiers,” says his father. After they killed numerous terrorists, he led his soldiers into the Kissufim base to replenish their ammunition, when he was fatally struck by shrapnel. Posthumously, he was promoted from the rank of lieutenant to captain.
As an officer in an elite unit, Ori had a goal not only to bring his men to the highest level of training, but also to help deepen their understanding of Zionism, their faith and their love of Eretz Yisrael. He used to spend Friday afternoons with his wife Miriam and young son traveling all across Israel before Shabbat to the homes of the men in his unit to establish a deep personal connection with them.
After his death, Miriam brought his parents a folder in which Ori would write down his goals, dreams and views on the national situation. “His writings help us cope and give us strength,” says Rabbi Shani.
Ori had been a lover of books and was especially interested in military history. In his memory, Rabbi Shani and his wife, Shulamit, are establishing a children’s library at Nof Harim elementary school in Modi’in, which their grandchildren attend.
Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook once wrote: “Great wars quicken the footsteps of Mashiach and advance the redemption of Israel. Because uprooting tyrants and the triumph of good over evil prepare the world for the great light of Israel.”
This belief continues to give many bereaved families the strength to carry on.
“We paid a big price,” says Rabbi Shani. “We lost our youngest son. But because of our son and the other soldiers fighting evil, we will have a better world.”
Sarah Hershenson, a resident of Netanya, made aliyah with her family in 1991 from New Jersey. Her feature stories and critical reviews appear in the Jerusalem Post and other English-language publications.