Freed Hostage Karina Ariev: "I threw a grenade that saved lives"

Karina Ariev, a 20-year-old IDF observer from Jerusalem, didn’t hesitate when Hamas terrorists lobbed grenades into the Nahal Oz shelter where she and her unit hid on October 7, 2023. With gunfire echoing and rockets raining down, she snatched one of the explosives mid-air and flung it back at her attackers—a split-second act of valor that bought her and her friends precious moments of life. “I only realized what I’d done later,” she said in a 60 Seconds interview with Liel Eli on the V1 app, her voice carrying the weight of 477 days in captivity. That morning, she saved lives. Then, she endured hell to tell the tale.

Ariev, a surveillance soldier in Unit 414, was stationed just 850 meters from Gaza when Hamas struck on Simchat Torah. At 7:00 a.m., she called her parents in Pisgat Ze’ev, sobbing amid the chaos: “She screamed she loves us, told us to keep living,” her mother recalled. By 7:40, she was gone—dragged into a jeep, bloodied and wounded, as shown in a chilling Hamas Telegram video. Of the 162 soldiers at Nahal Oz, 60 died, including 15 observers burned or shot in the war room and shelter. Seven, including Karina, were kidnapped. Her grenade throw was a flicker of defiance before the base fell.

For over 15 months, Karina endured Gaza’s depths—tunnels and crumbling buildings, saltwater rations, and the constant threat of airstrikes. Held by a senior Hamas operative, possibly as a human shield, she faced sexual harassment from captors, halting it only by threatening to tell their commander. “I didn’t think I’d make it out alive,” she admitted, scars crisscrossing her body as proof of her ordeal. She prayed in the dark, clinging to hope with peers like Daniella Gilboa, one of the five Nahal Oz observers freed with her on January 25, 2025, in a ceasefire swap for 200 Palestinian prisoners.

Karina bared her soul. “There were so many moments I broke down,” she said, her creative spirit—once expressed in painting and dance—now wrestling with trauma she fears fully facing. The grenade moment, captured in hindsight, stands out: a young woman, unarmed and untrained for combat, staring down death to protect her friends. Yet the cost lingers. “I still hear it all,” she said, her body a map of survival—scars from shrapnel, captivity’s toll, and a heart heavy for the 15 comrades lost.

Released in late January, Karina returned to a changed Israel. Hospitalized briefly, she demanded to rejoin the IDF—not as an observer, but in some capacity—though the army insisted on more recovery. Angry at being “abandoned” that day, she’s channeled her fury into advocacy. At a March 8 protest, she reportedly spoke in Arabic—possibly learned in captivity—pleading, “I know what you’re going through; we’re fighting to bring you back.” Her focus is laser-sharp: free the remaining hostages, including tank crew members from Nahal Oz she still names in her sleep. Revenge? “No,” she said softly. “Just bring them home and honor the fallen.”

Once a vibrant teen dreaming of psychology studies, she’s now a symbol of courage, from that grenade toss to her unyielding call for justice. As Purim nears, her voice cuts through the silence: a hero not resting until every captive walks free.