Rabbi Chaim Goldberg
When we think about the heroes of Oct. 7, we tend not to think about 42-year-old women. Nor do we think about lawyers with zero medical or military training.
But Efrat Nursi is all of the above, and she is part of an unsung group of heroes whose holy work extended long past Oct. 8 or 9: the IDF Rabbinate’s hevra kadisha, or burial society. In Jewish tradition, dignity of the deceased is a supreme value, and the IDF Rabbinate is assigned the sacred, yet difficult task of purifying fallen soldiers in preparation for burial.
Hundreds of fallen have been brought to Shura Base — home of the IDF Rabbinate — which is committed to 100% accuracy in identifying victims, in line with the policies set forth by the chief rabbi of the IDF, Rabbi Eyal Krim. Soldiers in the IDF Rabbinate’s identification and burial unit undergo extensive training — including on cutting-edge technologies — to be able to fulfill that mission.
If a female soldier dies while enlisted, she is given identical care as male victims. However, since female soldiers’ deaths were few and far between, volunteer women from the female victims’ local burial society were called upon when the need arose.
In the last fifteen years, more women are entering combat units in the army, thus raising the risk of more female deaths. Recognizing this new reality, a designated unit of women was established to assist in the identification process and burial preparation for female fallen soldiers, a hevra kadisha operating under the IDF Rabbinate. In 2010, Sharon Laufer, originally of Teaneck, New Jersey, recruited the first group of eight female volunteers. Each volunteer undergoes specialized training, identical to that of the male volunteers.
In an eerily prescient move, the IDF Rabbinate decided to formally draft these volunteers in July 2023 as reserve duty soldiers, with uniforms and all, enabling the IDF to issue them emergency draft orders in times of war.
Less than three months later, their expertise was needed beyond anyone’s worst nightmare.
During Hamas’ invasion on Oct. 7, 306 soldiers were killed, including dozens of female soldiers who literally protected the surrounding settlements with their bodies. Nursi described the chaos of the first hours of the war: “They called us in on the Sabbath morning (Oct. 7), and we arrived along with a team of men to start preparations for the burial of the many fallen soldiers, both male and female.”
She emphasized: “When a fallen female soldier arrives, only women handle the body. The medical team might include a male professional, such as a dentist, but as far as the tahara (purification process) is concerned, there can never be a situation where a man handles a fallen woman.”
Nursi noted that soldiers who die sanctifying God’s name in battle don’t require the typical purification, as Jewish tradition teaches “they’re already pure and holy.” As such, the primary work is preparation for burial.
In her regular life, Nursi is a lawyer who volunteers in the hevra kadisha in her town. Today, she is the head of the IDF Rabbinate’s women’s hevra kadisha. “We end up handling women we are connected to personally. Neighbors, friends of friends. Because I have a sense of mission, I manage to deal with the difficult sights. I manage to disconnect because I know why I’m there. I tell myself, ‘There’s another family whose doubts we’ve removed,’” Nursi said.
When asked how the terrible condition of some of the bodies complicated the identification process, Nursi preferred not to answer the question directly. “The identification task is very difficult because of the barbaric behavior of the terrorists,” she said, “and our aim is to complete it as quickly as possible, but with 100% certainty.”
“I don’t want to go into details, to preserve the honor of our holy female soldiers. But I’ll say that when I used to purify women who died tragically in car accidents, it doesn’t compare in any way to what we’re seeing now.” The cases were so complex that women of the IDF Rabbinate’s hevra kadisha were working to identify Oct. 7 victims for many months, into 2024.
I asked Nursi how she’s doing, but she replied that the question shouldn’t be directed at her. “We don’t need help,” she said, “only the families who have lost their dearest and the wounded who need prayers.” Other members of her team demur, illustrating the lasting effects on their mental well-being from handling mutilated and burnt victims, many of whom were subject to rape or sexual violence as well.
“You know how you enter this event, but you have no idea how you’ll come out of it,” said a fellow comrade. “Things arise unexpectedly when you return home. You open the refrigerator and smell the refrigerator of the bodies; you see your son lying down and remember the sights from work.”
In October, the women’s unit was working non-stop, seven days a week. “I personally was here all through the Sabbath,” said Nursi. “We received instructions from the chief military rabbi that elements of the identification work continues on Saturday (even for those who are Sabbath-observant). We work in shifts to try to ease the burden on the families as much as possible. That’s our mission — to treat them in the most respectful way possible.”
Many in her unit have been released from reserve duty, but nearly a full year later, Nursi and a few others in her unit still report to Shura multiple times a week. What emotions does she experience as we approach the one-year anniversary? “It’s difficult … I think about the fallen’s families, and it’s very difficult. I’ve been given this privilege to return something to those who sacrificed on our behalf.
“But mostly, it’s hard to say, because I don’t feel like it’s behind me. I’m still in it. I’ve been here since Oct. 7 — there are constantly new cases to take care of. One year … it’s simply insane.
“When they called us on Oct. 7 and even in the weeks afterward, no one imagined we’d be here now. When they first mentioned we’d be in the reserves during Chanukah, we were like ‘What?’ We’re not going to be here on Chanukah.
“A couple months later, when someone mentioned Passover, we were like ‘What?’ We’re not going to be here Passover. Yet here we are, with Rosh Hashanah and Simchat Torah (the Jewish holiday on which Hamas’ attack took place) around the corner.”
“Any thoughts on how to move forward from here?” I asked, and Nursi offered a prayer, “God willing, may we have strength, see light, and may I have no more work.”
But so long, tragically, as Nursi does have work, I pray that we appreciate how fortunate we are to have an army that aligns with Jewish values. That we appreciate those, such as Nursi and Laufer, who give of their soul to ensure dignity for the martyred. And I pray that we be worthy of their sacrifice.
Rabbi Chaim Goldberg is serving as an IDF reservist. In civilian life, he works as a psychologist for the Dead Sea Regional Council. He lives in Jerusalem with his wife and children.
