Staff Sgt. Bar Rozenshtein OBM Fell While Saving Civilians on Oct. 7: “Longing Cannot Be Healed”
Staff Sgt. Bar Rozenshtein, a Golani Brigade fighter, fell in a battle of heroism on Oct. 7, 2023. He was 20 at the time of his death. Bar was the eldest son of Pnina and Yossi, born in Rishon LeZion, and a brother to Rotem and Shaked.
1 / 10
All who knew him testify that he was a rare combination of exceptional intelligence, disarming shyness and absolute devotion to the values of comradeship and giving. The story of his life and his death is the journey of a boy who became a fighter and sacrificed his life for the State of Israel and its citizens.
From the tears of the beginning to a captivating charm
Bar’s early days did not hint at the calm and confidence that would later define him. His mother, Pnina, recalls the beginning: “Bar was born when I was only 24 and gave me a very hard time as a baby. He was a very, very fussy baby.” His father, Yossi, adds with a painful smile: “Fussy? No one could calm him down. To the point where he would lose his breath.” But, as was typical of Bar at every turning point in his life, the change came naturally and gently. “Within a few months, Bar’s crying eased, and he began to win everyone over with his charm and his smile, and he had this warm hug.”
During adolescence, Bar became more introverted, finding his world among computer screens and technology. Pnina describes him then as a thoughtful, quiet teenager: “He was more of a computer kid. Headphones on, two screens, and give me some quiet.” Noa, who later became his partner, remembers him that way from their childhood: “What I mostly remember about Bar as a kid is that he was very shy, introverted. Didn’t talk much, mostly just with the guys.”
He got A+ without studying for tests
Bar’s academic abilities were exceptional and a source of pride and amusement, to those around him. “He was insanely smart; we knew it from the start,” his father, Yossi, says. “He would go to school and always say, ‘I’m bored.’ He really was bored because everything they taught at school came easily to him.” His mother adds that he was one of those children who simply didn’t need the usual effort to succeed. “He was the kind of kid who finished everything in class, never had homework, didn’t need to study for tests, and everything was always a A+.”
His friend, Adam Zafrani, recalls their shared experiences in the gifted “Mofet” class, where Bar stood out for combining intelligence with a desire to live life beyond books. “Very quickly we realized we were the odd ones out, the special ones in the class. We were nerds, but we also had an ‘after.’” Adam describes their study routine, which became a tradition of successful procrastination: “After 20 minutes it’s like, ‘OK, let’s play one game,’ we stop, then continue. And the day before, we’d give it three or four hours and pray. Usually it worked out.”
“Always caring, the most containing, always there for you”
At home, Bar was far more than an older brother; he was an anchor. Although at first he feared that little Shaked would “take his place,” over the years the three became inseparable together with Rotem. “As he really matured, he became their mentor. Any problem, he would solve for them,” Yossi says.
Bar shared adventurous experiences with his sister Rotem and was the one who instilled confidence in his younger brother Shaked. Pnina recalls a family trip to Paris, when Shaked agreed to ride a frightening roller coaster on one condition: “Only if he sits next to Bar.” “It’s such a small example that says so much about their relationship,” she says. “There was something about Bar that all his friends always say, that when ‘Bar was there, everything was OK.’”
Noa, his partner, describes a deep relationship in which Bar was the steady rock. “The most caring, the most containing, the most there for you. Truly all the good things you want in a partner, that was Bar. He was my keeper of secrets, the person closest to me.” A friend adds to his uniqueness: “You consulted him about everything, he was always there for you. I don’t have another friend like that. Not everyone could be his friend, he chose them.”
Service and responsibility: 'Would I screw someone else over? No chance'
Bar served in the Golani Brigade and was known for his absolute sense of responsibility toward his comrades and his missions. Yossi recalls painfully their last conversation during the Sukkot leave, a conversation that reflected his devoted character. “I remember telling him, ‘Just stay until Saturday and come back on Sunday.’ And Bar answered, ‘Listen, Dad, if I stay, I’ll be screwing someone else over. No chance. There’s no such thing.’” That Wednesday, with one last hug and a smile, he left for base for the final time.
Oct. 7: Heroism on the way to Kissufim
On that black Saturday, Bar was at an outpost on “dawn alert.” When the attack began, he and his comrades encountered terrorists and took direct RPG fire at their David vehicle. After escaping and taking cover near a tree, Bar made a decision that reflected his entire essence as a fighter and as a person.
“Bar insisted on going to save the civilians in Kissufim,” Yossi says. “As they advanced on foot toward the kibbutz under heavy fire, during one of the bounds, Bar was hit by a bullet and fell.”
During those fateful hours, his mother, Pnina, felt that something terrible had happened even before the official notification arrived. She was at the Dead Sea as horrific news began to flow in. “Around 10:30 a.m., I felt like I had to get air away from everyone. I felt like someone was crushing my soul, truly as if I couldn’t breathe.” In hindsight, it turned out that this was the exact time of his death.
He was the listening ear
After his death, the family came to understand just how large a place Bar held in the lives of his friends and fellow soldiers. His friend Adam says through tears: “He truly was the listening ear, the word of advice you needed to get out, and he was that one person for so many. That’s special. I only gained from knowing him, truly.”
Noa, his partner, holds onto the last and most moving gift he gave her for her birthday, a jar containing 100 notes he called “the cure for longing.” “This isn’t longing like when you don’t see each other for a week,” she says. “This is real longing, something that can’t be healed.”
Pnina sums it up with the pride of a mother who is broken yet whole. “He was so heroic and so worthy. The fact that he insisted on defending civilians, when he could have returned to the outpost, and still chose to continue into Kissufim to protect civilians, the world cannot not know about him. The world cannot not hear about him, about what kind of child he was and what he could have given to the world.”
May his memory be a blessing.
Staff Sergeant
Bar Rozenshtein OBM