Guided by Staff Sergeant A., we tread the somber paths of Kfar Aza. His tactical attire and sidearm contrast sharply with his slight limp, a subtle reminder of past wounds. He pauses before the charred ruins of Nitzan Libshtein’s home. A memorial sign adorns the entrance, bearing the portrait of a middle-aged man and the inscription: “Here fell a hero of Israel, Omri Michaeli, who defended the residents of Kfar Aza with his body on 10/7/23. May his memory be blessed.” Below, the Duvdevan unit’s number is etched into the stone.
Staff Sergeant A. engaged in fierce combat in Kfar Aza for 16 hours before a friendly fire incident left him wounded. This episode underscores the chaotic nature of the battlefield, where terrorists disguised themselves as either IDF soldiers or harmless civilians, leading to tragic misidentifications. Both the military and civilians directly involved assert that the actions taken were appropriate under the circumstances. The unfortunate outcome was the result of an unforeseen confluence of events that could have resulted in even greater tragedy.
Nadav and his partner Hadar lived near Amit Soussana, a former hostage, and opposite the homes of the late Yotam Haim and Alon Shimriz, whose residences were also invaded by terrorists. “They shouted in Arabic, banged on the door of the safe room, and I prayed, thinking, ‘Is this it? Is this how my life ends? I’m not ready yet,'” Hadar shares. “We heard them shooting, destroying, and looting. But Nadav held the handle firmly, and after 20 minutes, it suddenly became quiet. They probably decided to move on.”
At 5 AM, following the sound of IDF soldiers through loudspeakers, they left the safe room. “We saw the Duvdevan jeep and ran toward them,” Nadav recounts as we meet with him, A., and his parents at their home entryway, in a gathering facilitated by Yedioth Ahronoth. “The driver instructed us to board the vehicle from the rear. Exiting my house armed, I initially tucked the gun into my pants’ waistband. However, as we dashed towards the jeep, I removed it to prevent it from falling. Approaching the vehicle, the two soldiers positioned above spotted my weapon and mistook me for a terrorist. One delivered a forceful kick to my chest, sending me reeling backward, just as gunfire erupted. In hindsight, it turned out that this guy here saved my life,” Nadav acknowledges, giving A. a supportive pat on the shoulder.
A. shares his perspective: “Our unit, Duvdevan, isn’t accustomed to such intricate combat scenarios, especially within a kibbutz crowded with Israeli civilians and facing threats from all directions—explosives, anti-tank devices, and more, making the combat extremely challenging. At one point, our driver identified two civilians, Nadav and Hadar, and instructed us to open the door for them. As Nadav began boarding, we noticed his firearm. Given the reports we’d encountered that day about a terrorist disguising as a civilian to approach soldiers for help before attacking, we were on high alert. Considering he could be a threat, I chose to kick him as I was too close to use my firearm.”
“My son is a Taekwondo black belt,” comments his father, a former officer in the elite Sayeret Matkal unit.
A.: “My friend managed to fire a shot, but because I kicked Nadav, the bullet hit me in the leg instead of his chest.”
Hadar: “I told them, ‘We are civilians, we are together, save us!'”
A.: “We took them to the gas station, and from there I was evacuated to the hospital.”
How is the friend who shot you?
A.: “He’s awesome. I admire him. He continued to fight in Gaza and the West Bank and is fighting even now.”
“We hold no anger at him,” says A.’s mother, a professor of pediatric medicine. “We love him and embrace him. For us, he is part of the family. He plays an important role in our son’s recovery, and our son plays an important role in his recovery.”
Barak Chekotai also plays a part in A.’s recovery. Barak was a fighter in Duvdevan in the 90s, and these days his book “Writing on Water”—a riveting thriller based on the tumultuous operations of the unit during his time—is being published. As part of his work with the Duvdevan veterans association, Barak accompanies eight war wounded, including A. One of these wounded is B., whose regular team in Duvdevan was attached in reserve to the 551st Brigade. He was wounded twice in combat in the northern Gaza Strip. The first time was when a Hamas drone dropped a grenade on his team. B. was hit by shrapnel in the neck but refused evacuation. The more severe incident occurred on November 10, when an explosive device was detonated during the exposure of a tunnel shaft. He sustained grave injuries, resulting in the loss of a leg.
“I was 68 days in Sha’are Zedek Medical Center and since then I’ve been here, in rehabilitation at Sheba Medical Center. I’ve undergone 19 surgeries, one of them by an American military doctor who treated hundreds of soldiers wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
Following an initial visit, while he was unconscious and on a ventilator, Barak and he have maintained ongoing communication. “His parents didn’t leave the hospital for weeks,” Barak recounts. “One day his mother showed me an email she received from her boss. He hinted that if she didn’t return to work, he wouldn’t be able to keep her employed. I made a few phone calls, and the matter was resolved.”
After relocating from Ukraine at twelve, B. returned during the conflict to evacuate his grandmother and aunt from the beleaguered city of Mariupol. Prior to his injury, he was an avid mountain climber, a hobby he plans to resume. “I’ve agreed with Barak that we’ll go climb Kilimanjaro together.”
Staff Sergeant A. is looking forward to his future. “I want to return to being a fighter in Duvdevan, but the doctors aren’t keen on the idea.”
Maybe you could serve in an administrative role.
A.: “I either fight or I don’t serve.”
