The Phone Call

We were hours away from getting Josh Boone the help he needed. He took his own life instead.

· Post War

The transfer was scheduled for today. Josh Boone was hours away from getting the mental health support he needed after serving as an IDF sniper in this war.

I got the call to cancel it instead.

Josh took his own life before we could help.

He came from Boise, Idaho. The only Jewish kid in his high school. He spent his childhood fighting for his identity in rural America, then came to Israel and had to prove his Jewish heritage just to serve. He became an IDF sniper, served on the front lines, and survived combat that would break most people.

He survived the war. He didn't survive coming home from it.

Listen to him describe his journey from being the "sheep dog from Idaho" to a guardian of the Jewish people. Listen to how his faith guided him through impossible situations. Listen to a soldier who found his purpose in defending Israel.

Then understand that purpose wasn't enough to carry him through what came after.

The news covers the physical battles. Rockets intercepted, tunnels destroyed, hostages we're still trying to bring home. The psychological battles happen in silence. In soldiers' homes. In the gap between who they were on the front lines and who they're supposed to be at family dinner.

Josh's story is one among many we're seeing now. Reservists who survived Gaza but can't survive the return to civilian life. Fathers who found clarity in combat and confusion at home. Soldiers carrying wounds that don't show up on medical reports and don't qualify for the support systems designed around visible injuries.

The infrastructure exists for physical rehabilitation. Prosthetics, surgeries, physical therapy, disability payments. The mental health support lags behind. Soldiers wait months for appointments. They navigate bureaucratic systems while managing PTSD symptoms that make basic tasks overwhelming. They face therapists trained in peacetime frameworks who don't understand the specific trauma of this war.

Some manage the transition. They redirect military purpose toward civilian life, rebuild careers, reconnect with families. Others struggle in silence. They show up to appointments, say the right things, meet the minimum requirements for continued support. Then they go home and face the same emptiness that no amount of therapy sessions seem to touch.

Josh needed immediate help. We raised money to get it for him. Private therapy, specialized PTSD treatment, whatever it took to bridge the gap between where he was and where he needed to be. The funds were ready. The transfer was scheduled.

We were hours too late.

I'm converting Josh's campaign now. The money meant to help him will help soldiers who are still here, still fighting the war after the war. We're focusing on immediate intervention for reservists showing signs of severe PTSD, depression, or suicidal ideation. No waiting lists. No bureaucratic delays. Direct funding for mental health support before another family gets a call that comes too late.

The need was already urgent. Now it's personal.

Every soldier who returns from this war carries something home with them. Some carry pride in their service, gratitude for survival, relief at reuniting with family. Others carry psychological wounds that compound with each deployment, each return to civilian life that feels increasingly foreign, each moment of trying to explain to people who weren't there what it was like to be there.

We can't save everyone. We couldn't save Josh. But we can fund immediate mental health intervention for soldiers currently in crisis. We can bypass the waiting lists and bureaucratic systems that delay care when hours matter. We can provide specialized trauma therapy from professionals who understand combat PTSD specifically.

The campaign Josh needed is now a campaign in his memory. Every dollar goes toward getting soldiers help before the call comes to cancel the transfer. Before another Idaho kid who found his purpose defending Israel loses the battle at home.

Watch his interview. Hear his voice. Understand what we lost when we lost him. Then help us make sure his story pushes us to act faster, respond more urgently, and get soldiers the support they need before it's too late.

The war everyone sees continues. The war most people don't see claims casualties too. Josh Boone survived combat. He deserved to survive coming home from it.

We're working to make sure other soldiers do.