Three tragedies: Sgt. Or Mizrahi OBM fell after his brother was killed and his mother died
Despite two great tragedies that marked his life, Sgt. Or Mizrahi chose to enlist as a combat soldier in the Nahal Brigade reconnaissance unit. Tragically, Or fell on the Black Saturday of October 7, leaving behind his father Avi and his sister Stav.
Or Mizrahi grew up in Petah Tikva. His mother, Michal, died of cancer when he was a baby aged one year and four months. His father cared devotedly for him, his sister and his brother Shahar. He studied at Neve Oz Elementary School in Petah Tikva, continued to Ort Aerospace Middle School in Lod, and returned to Petah Tikva to study at the multidisciplinary Amal Alef High School.
Or stood out as a happy, kind-hearted boy with a warm smile, full of light and love. He was described as very sociable, someone who loved people and was generous to a fault. On the outside he appeared somewhat tough, but inside he was sensitive and considerate. He always thought of those around him and cared for their well-being before thinking of himself.
“I really enjoyed raising him,” his father Avi recalls. “He was a special child who brought light and love into our home. A happy kid, soccer, friends, girls, boys. Happy in every way and he lacked nothing. He was a kid who knew how to stand his ground, everything he wanted he achieved in his own ways. That was my satisfaction, that all my children would have everything they needed and lack nothing. The only thing missing was that they did not have a mother.”
His sister Stav adds: “He was always the baby of the house, we were always teasing him. We loved him so much, like he was really our baby. People loved him because of his mischievousness.”
‘Or was a fighter by nature’
Over the years, Or developed a shared hobby with his brother Shahar, whom he admired deeply: off-road motorcycle riding. The second tragedy in the family occurred on March 2, 2020, when Or and Shahar went out riding. Near the moshav of Beit Yehoshua in the Sharon region, when Or stopped for a moment due to a problem with his motorcycle, he saw his brother continue riding and get run over by a passing train. The tragedy that unfolded before his eyes cast a shadow over Or’s life.
“It was before the army,” his father Avi recounts. “He went on an extreme trip with his brother on off-road motorcycles, and his brother Shahar was killed in a train accident. Or was there, he saw the scene, which was especially hard for a boy around 17 and a half. There was a stage when he debated whether to go to the army or not so as not to leave me alone. I told him, ‘Or, listen, do what is good for you and I am with you.’ He went through the tests, did everything, and they took him to the Nahal reconnaissance unit. As a father, I was behind him, the main thing was that he would be well.”
His sister Stav adds: “When Shahar was killed we said, ‘OK, what do we have? It is just me and him.’ So our role was to look after Dad so he would not be alone and would always have someone with him. Or was a fighter by nature, just as he fought with the life he had, which was difficult. He really wanted it deep inside.”
‘Dad called me screaming’
October 7, 2023 was supposed to be an enjoyable Saturday for Or, who was preparing for another family visit to his base. His girlfriend Osnat promised to bring him the patties he loved, and his sister Stav prepared a chocolate cake and chocolate balls. “When we bring food it is not only for him but for the whole battalion,” Avi says. “At 6:30 he called and said, ‘Dad, how are you, what’s up, rockets have started.’ Then my daughter spoke with him. Some strange vehicle arrived, he had to check what was going on, and then he told her, ‘I am going to die.’ On Sunday morning two officers arrived. The moment they came in I already understood and did not even ask them. I burst out screaming.”
“My dad called me screaming for his life and shouted at me, ‘Or is dead. Or is dead. Or is dead,’ and hung up the phone,” Stav recounts of that bitter day. “I did not know what I was doing, I screamed at home, got into the car and just drove at 200 kilometers per hour to my dad’s house. I do not know how I got there. I see officers, I see all the neighbors, I see everyone crying, my dad screaming.”
On Or’s mobile phone, found at the base riddled with bullet holes, a two-and-a-half-minute video was discovered. Or first filmed the sky glowing with rockets and interceptions, then placed the phone beside him. The screen is dark, but everything can be heard in the video: the gunfire as he shot at the terrorists, the cry “Mom, they are shooting at me,” and a loud explosion, after which the video cuts off. Or killed at least two terrorists before he was shot. “He was a hero,” his sister said.
‘It does not leave us’
Since Or’s death, Avi and his daughter Stav have been trying to support one another. “It runs through our heads every day,” Avi says. “It does not leave us. You are wounded inside, no one knows, we do not share. It is hard. There are days when you get up, see the pictures and start crying. Do you know what is happening here? The pain is immense. There is no comfort here. Just living with it.” “How much can one take? I lost a mother and two brothers,” Stav says. “I was left here alone, just me and Dad, and I did not believe it, and to this day I do not believe he is not here.”
Sgt. Or Mizrahi was laid to rest at the military cemetery in Petah Tikva. He was 21 when he fell.
May his memory be a blessing.

Sergeant
Or Mizrahi OBM







