Alone in uniform: Israel’s overlooked sabra lone soldiers come from broken or Haredi homes

Ask most Israelis about lone soldiers, and they’ll describe idealistic young Jews from abroad, proudly serving in the Israel Defense Forces without their families nearby. What they might not realize is that about half of lone soldiers are actually born and raised in Israel, and many are going through their army service alone for very different, often painful, reasons.

The term “lone soldiers” refers to IDF service members who lack familial support. While it is often associated with young immigrants who arrive in Israel alone, it also includes Israeli-born soldiers who are orphaned, estranged from their families, or whose families have relocated abroad.

Today, Israel is home to an estimated 7,000 lone soldiers. About 50% are immigrants, while the rest are native-born Israelis, many of whom come from broken homes or ultra-Orthodox backgrounds where military service is discouraged or condemned.

Shlomi, a released lone soldier, is the son of ultra-Orthodox parents and one of 13 siblings. At age 14, he made the decision to leave his family home due to challenges he faced during his childhood.

“I bounced from place to place until I was eventually arrested and sent to prison, and afterward to a rehabilitation center,” Shlomi recalled, explaining that it was during rehab that his desire to enlist in the IDF began to take shape.

“The social worker at the draft office gave me the status of ‘lone soldier’ — both of us fully aware that I had no one behind me to support me through the service,” he said.

Shlomi described his military service as filled with challenges that most soldiers never have to face.

“One of the first difficult moments came at the completion ceremony for my training,” he said. “That’s when it hits you — almost everyone has family there… And you’re standing alone, looking right and left, asking yourself: Why? I worked so hard. Don’t I deserve for someone to see that?”

‘It’s just you, God, and the crushing silence that no one is there to break’

For Shlomi, the rest of his service was marked by a deep and constant sense of isolation.

“The real challenge hits when you step off the bus, walk into your house, and realize no one is waiting for you with a hot meal. No one is doing your laundry. No one is asking you questions or showing any interest,” he said.

“It’s just you, God, and the crushing silence that no one is there to break.”

Noam Daniel shared a similar trajectory. He grew up in the ultra-Orthodox city of Beitar Illit in what he described as a good, supportive family — until he began questioning his place in that world during his teenage years.

“These were questions I carried with me through all of yeshiva,” he said. “With time, I realized it wasn’t my place. I slowly left religion — a long and difficult process — and eventually left home too.”

After several turbulent years, Daniel connected with a nonprofit and began his enlistment process, ultimately serving in the IDF as a lone soldier.

‘Just when I finally felt I had a home again, October 7 took it all away’

“The hardest time for me came in the middle of my service,” he recalled. “I had to move, start over, and after months of effort, I found an apartment with two close friends.” One of those friends was Noam Elimelech Rojtenbarg, who was killed in Hamas’s October 7, 2023, onslaught on southern Israel.

“Just when I finally felt I had a home again, October 7 took it all away,” Daniel said.

Daniel was forced to relocate again while simultaneously managing the demands of war and loss.

“I couldn’t leave my unit to get my life together,” he said. “It was incredibly difficult.”

When the support runs out

Throughout their service, the IDF provides lone soldiers with a wide array of benefits, ranging from monthly stipends to subsidized rent. However, this assistance only goes so far.

Itzik Oz, a member of the Lone Soldiers Department in Israel’s Kibbutz Movement — which supports soldiers without families by providing housing across various kibbutzim nationwide — told The Times of Israel that many lone soldiers face challenges that extend well beyond their military service.

Oz noted that one of the most overlooked gaps in support comes in the months before enlistment.

“Most [Israeli-born soldiers] finish school around June, but their enlistment date might only be in November or December, and they have nowhere to go,” he said, adding that kibbutzim are not equipped to house at-risk youth during this period due to limited funding.

“There is simply no one who will finance it,” he said.

Similarly, Oz noted that most government benefits for lone soldiers end once their military service concludes, creating yet another gap in support.

“There are no feasible plans for what happens after the army,” he said. “The result is that you see lone soldiers who, six months before finishing their service, their head is in a different place — they’re no longer thinking about the army.”

‘There are no feasible plans for what happens after the army’

One of those soldiers is “Oshri,” a lone soldier currently in active duty who requested anonymity. He grew up in a crime-ridden neighborhood in central Israel and was placed in state boarding schools by the Welfare Ministry from the age of five until he finished high school at 18.

“It’s difficult to separate your military service and your private life,” he said. “I don’t want to worry all day about money, money, money — no, I shouldn’t be thinking about these things. I should be thinking about my duties.”

But for Oshri, the struggles tied to his lone soldier status were impossible to ignore.

He began his service in a combat unit but was reassigned to a noncombat position after sustaining an injury during basic training — a change that also came with a significant pay cut.

“About two weeks ago, we planned an evening for the platoon,” he recalled. “Everyone put a certain amount of money down, and I didn’t have anything to contribute — my commander paid for me because he understands my situation.”

After discharge, soldiers like Oshri are left to navigate civilian life alone.

“It’s like they’re just tossed aside,” Oz said.

‘I ended up living in my car or friends’ storage rooms’

Shlomi experienced that reality firsthand. He was living in housing provided by the Kibbutz Movement, which gave him one month to move out after his release from the army.

“That isn’t enough time to adjust. I ended up living in my car or friends’ storage rooms,” he recalled. “People need to understand that reentry takes time. For at least three or four months, these soldiers who gave so much still need assistance.”

A tale of two lone soldiers

“Israeli-born lone soldiers often come from broken homes, many times leaving the ultra-Orthodox community or experiencing poverty,” Oz said. “Sometimes they have families, sometimes they have siblings — but they don’t have a good relationship with them.”

On the other hand, immigrant lone soldiers often maintain relationships with their families despite the physical distance, sometimes relying on them for emotional and even financial support.

“I don’t want to compare lone soldiers from abroad to native-born Israelis without family support — but people need to realize there’s a huge difference,” Shlomi said.

‘Being a lone soldier from Israel may sound easier, but it’s sometimes much harder’

Oshri agreed, adding, “I think we need to distinguish between different types of lone soldiers… Some soldiers need [state-funded services] more than others.”

“Being a lone soldier from Israel may sound easier, but it’s sometimes much harder,” Daniel explained. “There’s the knowledge that you have family in Israel — but you’re disconnected from them, purely because of the life choices you made and your desire to move forward.”

Currently, the IDF makes no official distinction between the different types of lone soldiers or the unique challenges each group faces.

According to Oz, the stories that tend to capture public attention are those of lone soldiers who immigrate to Israel, as they tap into the deeply rooted ideal of the Zionist pioneer.

“Israel was founded by lone soldiers,” Oz note. “Everyone was a lone soldier [back then].”

By contrast, he said, “You only hear about Israeli-born lone soldiers when they have difficult stories.”

And those stories can be harrowing. Oz has heard it all, from a soldier whose parents were both serving prison sentences to another whose father murdered his mother — not exactly the kind of narratives that land someone a spot on a morning talk show.

And yet, despite the immense hardships they face, these at-risk youth often show a remarkable determination to serve their country.

Some ultimately pay the highest price. The Kfir Brigade’s Netzah Yehuda Battalion — which is mostly made up of soldiers from ultra-Orthodox backgrounds, some with lone soldier status — has lost several fighters since Hamas’s October 7 attack.

On July 8, the battalion lost four soldiers in a roadside bombing, along with another from the Gaza Division’s Northern Brigade.

“They [Israeli-born lone soldiers] don’t come from families that value the prestige of military combat,” Oz said. “Of all people, these are the ones that want to give back to society — they go against the grain.”