The events of Oct. 7 indisputably represent a huge failure on the part of the Israeli security establishment. Yet, the more we learn about the events of that day, the more we understand the extent of the further crises that were averted. Recent findings show that close to 6,000 Gazan terrorists poured into Israel in various waves, in contrast to the previously understood number of 3,000. They breached the border fence in 119 places, double the figure usually cited as 60 sites. Among them were thousands of highly trained Nukhba terrorists who invaded with maps of locations all across Israel that they planned to attack.
An unthinkable number of Israelis were murdered on that dark day, yet even more Hamas terrorists were neutralized. For every southern kibbutz and army base that was breached, others remained protected and secure. These statistics are no consolation for those who were lost and for the atrocities that so many endured. But they do attest to the inconceivably heroic actions of many individual Israelis on a day when our national institutions failed. As we reach the first anniversary of Oct. 7, the question of where to place our commemorative emphasis remains to be fully resolved.
A newly published anthology titled One Day in October: Forty Heroes, Forty Stories, edited by Yair Agmon and Oriya Mevorach and translated by Sara Daniel, addresses this complicated mixture of tragedy and triumph. Its 40 first-person narratives are the culmination of dozens of interviews with individuals associated with Oct. 7, including those who fought or rescued others and survived, as well as family members and friends of those who were killed.
When One Day in October was first published by Koren Press in Hebrew, it sold tens of thousands of copies and topped the Israeli bestseller list. Now English-speaking audiences will have the opportunity to encounter this volume as well, which offers a particular model for how we think about Oct. 7 – one that emphasizes agency over powerlessness, ingenuity over failure, and, most significantly, hope over despair.
The dramatic stories of Israeli heroes on October 7
Some of the stories in One Day in October may already be known to those outside of Israel.
Among the more famous accounts is that of Rami Davidyan, the farmer from Patish who ferried hundreds of Supernova festival survivors to safety in his own car, at one point even convincing a group of six armed terrorists to hand over a girl they had captured. And Nasreen Yousef, an Arabic-speaking Druze woman, cleverly managed to extract valuable intelligence from Hamas commanders as they prepared to invade her community. Noam and Yishai Slotki, two brothers from Beersheba, raced to defend Kibbutz Alumim on Oct. 7 and fell together, side by side, each leaving behind a young wife and child. One officer who came across their bodies in the field told their parents: “I don’t know if heaven has a scent. But if it has one, it’s the scent of these two holy men.”
One Day in October also contains fascinating insights into unique and perhaps lesser-known personalities who, together, represent the spectrum of Israeli society and each of whom rose to greatness that day. Yehonatan “Barnash” Tzor was a “wild stallion” of a man, a former member of the Hilltop Youth who struggled in conventional settings until he found his place in an elite commando unit. On Simchat Torah morning, he frantically drove at 200 km. an hour from his home in northern Samaria straight into a terrorist battle. He was killed within minutes of arrival, but on his way he managed to communicate instructions to fellow commanders that allowed them to mobilize more effectively that morning. One of those commanders was Or Ben-Yehuda, a mother of four and rare female leader of an infantry battalion. Upon instructions from Barnash, Ben-Yehuda led a dozen soldiers to defend the Sufa outpost and kibbutz against hundreds of heavily armed terrorists with machine guns and RPGs, saving the lives of 30 soldiers who were barricaded inside and preventing the kibbutz from being overrun. Ben-Yehuda never imagined she would leave the battle alive. In the book, she reflects on her thoughts at the time:
“ ... I accepted death, I came to terms with death... I remember looking up and apologizing to my children; in my heart, I begged them to forgive me – they’re so little and so cute… I saw this was really the end. And then I said to myself, ‘Okay, if this actually is the end, then I’ll end it well. I’ll die standing tall. I’ll do the very best I can, and I’ll fight until my last drop of blood.’”
SOME OF the stories in One Day in October feel almost cinematic in their tales of dramatic heroism and last-minute, miraculous turnarounds. The extreme bravery that was on display could rival any Hollywood movie. However, there are also accounts of less conventional heroes, such as Tali Hadad, a retired kindergarten teacher with chronic health issues, who ran into a gun battle in Ofakim wearing pajamas in order to rescue the wounded, who ultimately included her own son. Hadad describes a moment during the fighting when she found herself raising her hands in the middle of the street, as if in victory. She said, “...I’m not all that religious – my faith in God is simple, normal – but I felt like I was in some kind of trance... that someone was controlling me, and I was doing something supernatural.”
Another unconventional hero is Shlomo Ron. A soft-spoken, theater-loving 85-year-old kibbutznik, Ron hid his wife, daughter, and grandchildren in their safe room and stayed seated outside to act as a decoy that led the invading terrorists to believe he was alone. His niece reflected: “I think a lot about Shlomo’s courage and how he died as a hero, but not in the usual way. He was a soft hero, a gentle hero... He didn’t have a gun, nothing... Yet he still had this courage, the courage to sacrifice himself for others.”
IT IS impossible to do justice to the wide range of narratives presented in One Day in October. Beyond the vivid, first-person accounts, each chapter tries, as best as possible, to touch on the cultural and spiritual forces that produce such individuals and fellow heroes they interacted with along the way. The accounts are edited in a way that makes them pithy and readable. Throughout, the stories emphasize agency and autonomy. They depict heroes who for the most part raced into battle with their eyes wide open, understanding what they were risking and what was at stake for their country and nation.
Even the tale of Shay Ashram, one of the doomed female surveillance soldiers at the Nahal Oz outpost whose warnings about the impending Hamas threat went unheeded, highlights her bravery and that of her fellow observers:
“Those girls, they were murdered in cold blood. They didn’t have a single rifle, not even a gun. They couldn’t save anyone, definitely not themselves. And even so, even though they were murdered unarmed, those girls are heroes. They’re heroes because they spoke up, and they made their reports, and they shouted, and they gave warning. And even though no one – no one! – took them seriously, they never stopped insisting on the truth.”
IN THE editors’ preface titled “Why This Book,” Agmon makes a personal confession about the deep depression into which he sank after Oct. 7: “For long weeks I remained home in Tel Aviv, listless with shame and frustration, paralyzed by existential fear.” Agmon describes how working on this book lifted him up: “I fell in love with the people I met through these stories, with their hearts, and with their values... these heroes don’t know it, but they saved my life too.”
The first-person narratives of One Day in October are not literary masterpieces. They are not works of art, and while they reference Jewish ideas and Jewish texts, they are not operating on multiple levels of understanding. They are straightforward stories told by ordinary people, “salt of the earth” one would say. Yet the cumulative effect of reading such stories is something far from ordinary.
The heroes of Oct. 7 saved thousands of lives – a salvation whose scale we will never fully understand. Beyond that, tales of their courage cemented a sense of national resilience and commitment to persevere that continues to underlie Israel’s successes today.
Many haunting associations have been drawn between the events of Oct. 7 and the Holocaust, and indeed there are ripples that are impossible to ignore. Yet the differences between the two events decidedly outweigh the similarities. This is not only due to historical circumstances but also because of the fierce bravery of regular people who held tight to their convictions and to each other. Their legacy is not one to merely mourn but also to celebrate with gratitude and pride.
Sarah Rindner Blum is a writer and educator who made aliyah five years ago. More of her writing can be found at bookofbooksblog.com/
- ONE DAY IN OCTOBER: FORTY HEROES, FORTY STORIES
- By Yair Agmon and Oriya Mevorach
- Maggid Books
- 400 pages; $18