In the Hebrew language, “nevut” signifies navigation, an apt metaphor for an organization deeply committed to guiding Israel Defense Forces (IDF) chayalim bodedim (lone soldiers) through their challenging transitions from military service to civilian life. Established in 2017 by Rabbi Ari Abramowitz, Nevut has become a pivotal force in addressing the unique needs of these brave lone soldiers, young men and women who left the comfort of their homes and families to protect Israel and defend the Jewish nation.
Abramowitz, a veteran of the Netzach Yehuda Battalion, recognized the void in support systems for IDF lone soldiers once their service concluded. Inspired by his own experiences and the stories of many like him, he founded Nevut to provide a continuum of care that extends beyond the battlefield. Nevut’s expanded mission is akin to a highway off-ramp, offering a suite of services, preparing these heroes for the eventual return and reintegration into civilian life in a stable and controllable manner.
Nevut’s approach is comprehensive, offering psychological support, career counseling and community integration. The organization emphasizes the importance of mental health with programs designed to educate about trauma, PTSD and resilience. Career advancement services ensure that soldiers have the tools necessary for successful employment transitions, while community and connection programs foster a supportive network among veterans. Together, these services, among others, ease veteran integration with society.
I was born and bred in the heart of Far Rockaway, New York. From a young age, I was always drawn to helping others and deep down knew that one day, I too, would join the venerable IDF. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I wanted to join the IDF, not just to help, but to “help the helpers.” After finishing high school, I went to Israel for a gap year and subsequently drafted into the IDF.
My service began in the elite unit Rimon, and 18 months later, I graduated as a special forces combat medic. For the following two years I served all over Israel, standing guard, protecting the country, while ensuring that Israelis could sleep peacefully at night. Nearly three-and-a-half years after drafting I returned to civilian life. Yet civilian life for an ex-combat soldier always comes with the additional 20-year responsibility of miluim, reserve duty. It is there where I currently serve as an active duty reservist in the 55th Brigade, the same unit that liberated Jerusalem in 1967.
Initially, my transition back to civilian life was fraught with challenges, including physical, mental and emotional pain. Physically, it took me just over half a year to fully recover from the strenuous lifestyle I had maintained. Yet mentally, it was a longer journey. The army, as all armies do, forge swords. When forging a sword, one uses heat and a lot of pressure to form the blade, exposing the base materials to their extremes, finding out what their properties and characteristics are. I was not any different, and the strains of my training forced me to confront some deeply disturbing truths about myself. The process of coming to terms with these truths took much longer to confront, but I was determined not to let my past control my future. Through this process, I came to love myself, notwithstanding the scars of my past. Much like Damascus steel, I came to appreciate the inimitable process of my design.
Another reason for the prolonged recovery of my psyche is that one of the more underrated aspects a soldier benefits from when putting on the uniform, regardless of their role or position, is the sense of joining a larger group aimed at a higher purpose. This brought me a lot of pride, meaning and direction to myself, and allowed me to make sacrifices, and even those as extreme as facing dismemberment or death seem trivial in its face. Losing this identity and creating a new one was one of the many struggles in my “coming back home” journey. This challenge is emblematic of just some of the plethora of struggles faced by many lone soldiers, regardless of where or when they served, as they attempt to reintegrate into society.
Just before Pesach this year, I spoke to a small crowd at a fundraiser for Nevut. It was there, for the first time, I began to recount just some of my journey over the past six months. Having finished my service in late 2018, I thought I had put the army-civilian transition behind me. I had finished college, met the love of my life, and was scheduled to get married on Oct. 18, 2023. Yet on Oct. 7, amid the chaos of war, together with my unit, I found myself responsible for clearing Kfar Aza and the surrounding area, eliminating terrorists and hoping to rescue anyone who was still trapped in the area.
Several sleepless days later, my unit was tasked with discerning whether residents of Kfar Aza had been kidnapped or executed in cold blood. This harrowing experience meant that we went house to house checking for signs of life, finding only death and silence in and around the homes we searched. This example is just one among the countless other nightmarish experiences that combat brings forth and is shared by many fellow reservists and veterans, which further underscores the necessity of a support system for soldiers reentering civilian life.
The intensity of these experiences, from the adrenaline of missions to the quietude of the occasional off day at home, highlighted the stark contrasts and extremes soldiers must navigate. Even now, my personal battle did not end upon being released (once again) from the IDF; it merely changed battlefields. Over the years, through Nevut, I found a community that understood and shared these profound challenges. The organization helps me, and many others, find our middle paths through tailored support ranging from therapy to career guidance, all provided among a robust community of like-minded veterans.
The Nevut team includes some impressive team members, many with firsthand experience and all specializing in working with veterans. Under the stewardship of individuals like social worker Shmuel Feigenbaum, who served in the Engineer Corps of the air force and experienced the impacts of service firsthand, Nevut has flourished. Dr. Eric Pollak, longtime advisor to Nevut, as well as Dr. Miryam Sperka, a distinguished clinical psychologist specializing in running clinical trials for PTSD among veterans, spearhead an innovative healing program at Nevut to profoundly address the needs of the Nevut veteran population. Their collective efforts, along with many others, are grounded in personal experience and professional expertise, and have been crucial in driving Nevut’s growth and impact.
Fundraising and adapting to evolving needs are persistent challenges for Nevut. However, the organization has celebrated numerous triumphs, such as significant fundraising milestones and successful reintegration stories of many soldiers it has supported. These successes, including mine own personal one, are a testament to the community’s commitment to its warriors.
Avi David is an active duty reservist in the 55th Brigade.
