Yesterday marked my 60th day of miluim after 15 days of basic training. That's 75 days of service to my country. 75 days helping Israel defend itself against those trying to destroy us.
It also means 75 days away from family. 60 days on the Gaza border with constant threats against our base. 60 days running supplies in and out of Gaza to the soldiers and bases that need them.
And I had it easy.
Many soldiers on my base have served 500, 600, even 700 days since the war started. They go long stretches before seeing their families. Each time they leave home, they have no idea when they'll return.
After 75 days, I've learned things I couldn't have understood before putting on the uniform. Here's what serving actually taught me.
Being in the Army Is a Privilege
Every Israeli male at 18 is required to draft. Women can volunteer. But requirement doesn't mean it's routine.
Kids in Israel train for years trying to get into specialty units so they can serve in combat. Getting into these units and wearing the uniform is a privilege. If you don't honor it and serve correctly, you'll be asked to leave.
I've watched people who thought they were doing the army a favor get shown the door. You don't fully understand this until you're serving, until the first time you sing Hatikva in uniform, until the first mission you're assigned. These moments carry weight that goes beyond obligation.
The Real Heroes Wear Skirts (and Pants)
Being in the army was easy for me. I wasn't in a combat role, but even so: three meals a day, same comfortable clothing every day, downtime with friends. The routine is simple. No errands. No kids to manage. No work calls to answer.
The wives at home, or in some cases the dads acting as both parents, face the harder battle. Every carpool, shopping trip, and meal needs to be planned and executed by one person with no help. They didn't sign up for this. They don't want this. But without these people holding down the fort at home, soldiers can't function with a clear mind.
Our Soldiers Are Heroes
Many keep going with miluim because the job isn't complete. They won't rest until all hostages are freed. They keep joining other units when released, helping bring remaining bodies home, ensuring Israel's long-term security.
Many work during downtime on base, pulling long hours to make sure both the army and home are taken care of. They focus on the mission. They put themselves in harm's way day after day, ready to make the ultimate sacrifice if needed.
The public speakers and influencers aren't the heroes. The people on the ground are.
Whiplash Is Real
Going back and forth between civilian and military life creates chaos. You're never fully present anywhere. Projects at home sit unfinished until the next time you return. Even when you're home, you're always ready to leave.
A few weeks ago on Succot, we were driving to a family trip with other families when I got called back to base within three hours. We turned around. Cancelled the family outing. I grabbed my gear and ran back, not knowing when I'd return.
This is the life of a soldier. It creates havoc with schedules, planning, expectations for family and kids. The mentality is hard to break. It creates real problems for soldiers when their service ends, making it difficult to slip back into a normal routine.
There Is a Place for Everyone
Whether you're 18, a 27-year-old who just made Aliyah, or 45 and never served before, the army needs you.
You never hear people saying they want to be a chef in the army or deliver supplies. But the army needs these people just as much as combat soldiers. Many don't qualify for combat due to medical or other reasons. They still serve. They serve proudly.
Fixing tanks and armored vehicles. Delivering gear and supplies to bases. Base Rabbi. Communications. Logistics. Fitness instructors. These roles matter just as much and are needed for the army to function.
Out of every eight soldiers, one serves in combat and seven provide support. That means only one out of every eight people will serve in an actual combat role. Others may enter war zones to help, but the army finds a role and place for everyone.
Donors Are Part of the Army Now
This war has fundamentally changed how the army works with donors. The army's policy used to be simple: no donations, no people on bases. During wartime, instead of getting stricter, the army opened its doors.
Food deliveries and BBQs on base happen almost daily. Donors come to tour war-torn areas and visit bases. Units accept equipment and supplies from private donors. Every unit set up a wish list and donation page. Every soldier reached out to family abroad.
Hundreds of thousands of bags of gear arrived: boots, helmets, ceramic plates, vests, scopes, winter gear. They were delivered to soldiers all over the country. The IDF views this as part of procurement now. This will be here to stay.
Donors of all amounts and types are part of the IDF, whether they know it or not.
The People Make the Army Work
The army is full of bureaucracy. Everything is political. Everything requires multiple levels of approval. Things move slowly. There's a lot of waiting.
But despite all that, the people are what make the army go. The motivation individuals have to complete their missions and support each other is the driving force behind the IDF's success.
When I was on base, a truck with five guys from my unit broke down in Gaza. It took six hours to get approval to extract them. But the entire time, others came asking if they could go in to get them. Fighting for approval. Asking everyone. Fighting for the opportunity to help.
That mentality, one for all, overrides all the bureaucracy. It's what allows us to succeed. To win.
What These 75 Days Actually Mean
I didn't write this to share stories. I wrote this because after 75 days, I understand something most people will never grasp from the outside: every soldier serving today is holding the line not just with their body, but with their family's sacrifice. Every wife managing alone. Every kid missing their parent. Every business left behind. Every plan cancelled.
The reserve soldiers serving 500, 600, 700 days aren't superhuman. They're ordinary people who understand that walking away means leaving their brothers and sisters exposed. They're fathers who know their kids need them home but also know those same kids need a country to grow up in.
When you donate gear, you're not helping soldiers. You're becoming part of the chain that lets them focus on the mission instead of worrying about equipment. When you support a miluim family, you're not giving charity. You're shouldering part of the burden so that soldier can keep going one more day, one more week, one more month.
This war changed how the army operates because it had to. The traditional walls came down because survival demanded it. Donors aren't outsiders anymore. They're part of the procurement system. They're part of the mission.
Every donation, every meal delivered, every piece of equipment sent, every family supported adds up to one thing: more soldiers who can keep serving with a clear mind. More families who can hold on a little longer. More strength to finish what we started.
The job isn't done. The hostages aren't all home. The threat hasn't disappeared. So the soldiers keep going. And we need you to keep going with them.
Support the families. Send the gear. Bring the smiles to the Chayalim.
Because when a father serves in the IDF, his entire family serves alongside him. And when we support them, we all serve together.