Forged in fire: How 3 IDF heroines found an unlikely sisterhood on the battlefield

Until just a few months ago, Naomi, Shani, and Nastia, all from the 926th Rescue Battalion, were complete strangers. Each had served as a combat soldier in different units during their mandatory service, their lives unlinked. But a reserve call-up during the war brought them together, revealing a shared thread from the horrors of October 7, 2023—the Nova music festival massacre. They had survived that “Black Shabbat” separately, unaware of each other, only to discover their intertwined stories in the crucible of combat duty.

Each woman faced the terrorist attack alone, relying on instinct and training to escape. Nastia, a platoon commander, rescued her friends from the Nova festival, leading them to safety. Shani, a seasoned medic, treated the wounded she encountered along the way, all while under enemy fire. Naomi navigated through an agricultural field turned battlefield, guiding others to refuge. Weeks later, they returned to fight, donning their uniforms once more. It was in the reserves that they met, their individual tales of survival forging an unbreakable bond.

“We didn’t think for a second about not showing up,” says Nastia, her voice steady with conviction. “My soldiers are my family—the force that drives me. I’m responsible for them.” Naomi echoes this sentiment, reflecting on the early days of the war: “Being a warrior is in your character; there’s no denying it,” she says, a faint smile breaking through. “It’s alive in each of us, kicking from within, bursting out when it’s needed. Nothing truly prepares you for acting in a sea of uncertainty. We were thrown into a battlefield, but each of us proved that resourcefulness, even in the extreme, is stronger than we are.”

“Your Heart Keeps Pounding, But You Have to Keep Going”

That horrific morning, as Hamas monsters unleashed their assault, the three women tapped into skills honed during their service to survive and save others. “One thing I remembered from navigation training was to always rely on the sun,” Naomi recalls. “In the middle of a field turned war zone, I pointed my friends east—‘Run toward the sunrise; even if we reach the Dead Sea, just get us to safety.’”

Shani, confronted by the carnage along her escape route, felt the weight of the moment: “You can’t prepare for being in the danger zone yourself. I realized I had to pull it together and act. Amid the chaos, another paramedic friend and I provided first aid to the wounded.” Nastia, too, relives those surreal minutes: “While fleeing, I replayed training scenarios in my head, planning every step, anticipating an ambush from another direction. I’d trained for this since the day I enlisted. If I’d only guessed I had these traits—staying calm under pressure, functioning at my peak in a crisis—now I know for sure.”

“Every possible scenario ran through my mind—where they might come from next,” Nastia continues, describing the scene. “I mapped out a route, kept driving without stopping, took sharp turns, weaved between cars. A bullet grazed my right shoulder, a minor wound—but none of that mattered then. All I cared about was getting out and saving everyone with me.”

Bullets whistled overhead, terrorist vehicles loomed in the distance, and hours spent hiding in thorny bushes tested their resolve. Yet they remained warriors—leading friends and strangers alike to safety amid the pandemonium. “Your heart doesn’t stop racing,” they say, “but you have to keep functioning.”

“Healing Means Protecting Home”

Days later, they reported to the 926th Battalion, a unit tasked with rescue missions across Israel. “People looking from the outside always think, ‘Why didn’t you stay home to deal with the trauma?’” Shani shares. “But we knew from the start that part of healing is defending our home. It reinforces that we didn’t go through this for nothing. We’re here for a reason—to stand strong and ensure no disaster like this happens again.”

Our conversation takes place just as the battalion’s soldiers wrap up their second frontline deployment of the war, this time in the West Bank. Naomi, who was still in active duty on October 7, has since joined the reserves, cementing the trio’s remarkable connection.

When they learned other women in their unit shared similar experiences, they sought each other out. Long conversations followed—painful memories spilled out, and a bond formed that no outsider could fully grasp. “You’d think we’d known each other for years,” they say. “Our souls linked quickly. When someone next to you understands everything you’re feeling with just a glance, it changes everything. You feel stronger.”

A Bond Beyond Words

Amid the pain, there is also laughter—inside jokes only they catch, a lightness born of shared survival. What stands out is strength. They smile together, ache for each other’s losses, and marvel at new details they uncover about one another. In those moments, their meaning becomes clear: the true sisterhood of warriors they spoke of at the outset.

They survived the Nova massacre apart, strangers in a nightmare. In the reserves, they found each other, their stories stitching together a tapestry of courage and resilience. For Nastia, Shani, and Naomi, this is more than survival—it’s a testament to their unbreakable spirit as women who fight, heal, and stand as one.