'Save the children': Maj. Noy Shosh OBM did not live to meet his youngest daughter
On the 22nd of Tishrei (Hebrew calendar), the morning of Simchat Torah that became the darkest day in the country’s history, Maj. Noy Shosh, an officer in the Technology and Maintenance Corps, was killed while defending his home in Kibbutz Be’eri. He was 36 at the time of his death. He left behind a legacy of technical excellence, command humility and extraordinary human courage. Shosh is survived by his wife, Machol, their three children, his parents and two brothers. Seven months after his death, a fourth child was born to Noy and Machol. The baby girl was named Yahav, after the radio call sign Noy and Machol used during their military service at Kerem Shalom.
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'He knew everything'
From early childhood, Noy stood out for his curiosity and his connection to the practical world. His mother, Miri, remembers a bright, quiet child who became talkative in kindergarten. “I would sit with him doing puzzles and reading him stories, and he knew everything, he knew everything,” she says. “He simply didn’t talk much. And when he entered kindergarten, he never stopped talking.”
His father, Gabi, himself a technical professional, describes how Noy followed in the footsteps of his older brother. “Noy always wanted to imitate his brother. I’m a technical person, an aircraft mechanic in the army, and during Noy’s childhood we were involved with technical things, and they loved it and enjoyed helping,” he says. The value of hard work was instilled in him at a young age. “They did everything together,” Miri recalls. “They babysat, worked washing dishes until midnight. From a young age they understood the value of work and of other people.”
Parents presenting the ranks
Noy’s military path was natural and impressive. After seeing his brother Or in uniform, he decided to join him at the Ordnance Corps college. “Both of them excelled as mechanical engineering technicians in the automotive track,” Gabi recalls. Noy marked officers training as a central goal, and when he completed the officers course, the family’s excitement peaked. Noy’s grandfather, a fighter in Israel’s War of Independence, said to his son Gabi, “I’ve closed a circle, Grandpa.”
A particularly moving moment was etched in his parents’ memory from a rank-pinning ceremony on base. Noy’s commander surprised him and invited his mother to pin on his epaulets. “The commander said, ‘I’m not putting them on, your mother is,’” Miri recalls. Gabi adds with a smile tinged with sadness, “And years later, in the reserves, he was supposed to receive the rank of major. Twice I put the rank on his epaulet upside down from excitement.”
A love that grew in the battalion
In the army, Noy met Machol, the operations sergeant who became the love of his life. “She was always his right hand,” Miri says. “We saw that when he went away for weekends, he didn’t come home. That’s how the romance seems to have developed.” Their relationship was a model of partnership, and in 2018, their first daughter was born.
The news of the birth of his son, Netzer, arrived during a family trip. “We were traveling in the Golan Heights, suddenly there was a phone call, and then he told me, ‘I wanted to tell you that we have a son,’” Gabi recalls. For him, it was a personal victory. “My father lost his entire family in the Holocaust. Noy knew this was very, very important to me, because it was the continuation of the family.”
A commander at eye level
Noy’s friends and commanders describe a rare professional, “an insanely good professional,” who managed the garage in Be’eri and turned it into an efficient, profitable operation. But above all, he was a mensch. Gabi recalls a story that illustrates his humility. “We walk into the dining hall. Someone told him, ‘Officer, you go this way. The soldiers eat in the other room.’ Noy looked at him and said, ‘And where I’m going to eat, are the dishes porcelain? No.’ Then he said, ‘So I can eat with my soldiers.’”
His friends say soldiers would follow him anywhere. “He was a very, very quiet commander, always with a smile, always pleasant. He even managed to give all the instructions for mobilizing the soldiers from inside the safe room. That says a lot about him.”
The final battle: 'Save the children'
On October 7, Noy and his family were in the safe room of their home in Be’eri. Machol was in the advanced stages of pregnancy with their fourth child. A friend messaged him asking about the situation, and Noy replied with determination: “Only over my dead body.”
The worst happened around midday. “Between noon and 1 p.m. we received a voice message from Machol, she was whispering,” Gabi recounts through tears. “A bullet penetrated the safe room door and Noy was wounded. He held on and fought through the door, and then she did too.” In his final moments, Noy thought only of his family. “He told her, ‘Save the children,’ and she said goodbye to him, and the children said goodbye to him.” Machol and the children were rescued, but Noy was left behind. Gabi recalls the chilling coincidence: “Thirty years earlier, on Simchat Torah, my father died early in the morning. I started banging on the wall and shouting at my father not to take him. It didn’t help.”
A daughter born after his death
After his death, his daughter Yahav was born. For the family, Noy’s memory lives on everywhere. “The necklace, we got it from Machol, from his personal belongings. It never comes off me,” Miri says. His friends are working to commemorate him, and the battalion headquarters company will forever be named “Noy HQ Company.”
“Their father is terribly missed,” one of Noy’s friends says. “He defended his family until the very last moment. The fact that he went as a hero is, somehow, the only consolation.” His father, Gabi, sums up the family’s feelings: “I have so much pride. We always had something to be proud of.”
May his memory be a blessing.
Major
Noy Shosh OBM