I was at a party for wounded soldiers. Yoni’s sister showed me a short video on his phone that had been filmed and edited by Hamas. The 30-second clip showed a terrorist sniper lying down and taking aim, before the image cut to three Israeli soldiers standing by a house. The film cut back to the sniper, who shot his rifle, then back to the three Israeli soldiers. The middle soldier collapsed. “That was the moment I’d been shot in the leg,” Yoni [not his real name] explained.
“I felt a massive pain,” he continued, “and the bullet went right through me. It’s unbelievable that Hamas shot me twice at the same time — once through the leg, and once with their camera to make this video of the whole event. Welcome to modern warfare.”
I was giving Yoni a reflexology treatment at the time. The lower part of his right thigh was bandaged, and there was a small circle of dried blood on the front of the bandage, covering where the bullet had torn through his leg. While it was shocking to see, I focused on the healing treatment, giving a friendly and supportive energy.
The event for injured soldiers took place on a warm summer’s night. Most locations and names can’t be mentioned for security reasons, but we were in central Israel. There were 60 young wounded soldiers with their friends, all-you-can-eat shawarma, salad and beer, and 15 volunteer therapists providing a range of alternative treatments for whoever was interested.
All of the therapists had brought their treatment tables since they lived locally; I had flown in from Los Angeles (via England) and improvised a massage table using comfy pool furniture, pillows and cushions. The huge house and garden was an elegant compound, hidden from the street behind nondescript walls, and wouldn’t have felt out of place in Beverly Hills. As we did our healing work in the therapy area, you might imagine there would be calming music to sooth the spirit. Instead there was Mizrachi karaoke music blasting at full volume. One aspect of Zen philosophy is going with the flow, so we did. In this case the flow had hard bass beats and vaguely tuneful vocals. But guests were happy, which is the important part.
Why this and why now?
For months, I had been asking the question; “what skilled work can I do that will help support Israel?” I was stumped.
The journey to my volunteer trip had begun many months earlier, soon after Oct. 7, when I was trying to find a personal way to help Israel. Friends had used their special skills — the comedian Avi Liberman had toured army bases, musician Yehuda Solomon of Moshav was regularly performing concerts, but my Hebrew wasn’t good enough to perform plays that anyone would understand.
Friends had used their special skills — the comedian Avi Liberman had toured army bases, musician Yehuda Solomon of Moshav was regularly performing concerts, but my Hebrew wasn’t good enough to perform plays that anyone would understand.
I’d always felt guilty about not serving the IDF at the age of 21 after graduation, but a series of events led to the unique solution I was looking for. During the last few years I had received a lot of alternative medicine while recovering from brain surgeries following an accident, and I had learned various trauma-release and healing modalities including deep-tissue massage bodywork, cranio-sacral therapy, reflexology, acupressure and more (but not Reiki!)
In recent times I had been giving my father a lot of reflexology and other treatments to help manage the lung disease he is suffering from, and I began to regularly hear the fatherly advice, “Marcus, you have to do this professionally.” So I got certified, got insured and began seeing clients. It was going well, and it suddenly occurred to me that the next step was to book a flight, get to Israel, and get to volunteering.
Landing at Ben Gurion Airport was the first shock. The passengers on the El Al plane from London were almost all Israelis, since no other airline was flying to Israel at the time. The “Foreign Passports” section at Israeli customs was completely empty. This meant that there was no line, but not for a good reason.
My first day was to see soldiers in a rehabilitation unit. I treated four injured soldiers at the rehab unit, and primarily kept the work to reflexology and craniosacral therapy. Amos had an eye injury that was due to flying shrapnel while in Khan Younis. Nir suffered arm and back pains after an RPG exploded near him while in Gaza City. Zohar is a young soldier who was serving as a paramedic in Gaza and was currently confined to a rehab unit while recovering from leg surgeries. We did short sessions of 30 minutes each, and it was humbling being in their presence, especially because some of them had literally taken a bullet of behalf of the Jewish people.
Daveed is a Druze Arab who suffered from leg injuries and neuropathy (loss of feeling) as a result of getting injured last year on the Lebanon border. He has had over 20 operations and wanted to return home to be with his wife and children in one of Israel’s Arab villages. Meeting Daveed was especially moving since he was a non-Jew who had sustained lifelong injuries while serving the Jewish State. I was painfully aware of how little time we were able to spend together, since there was so much healing to be done. And yet, something is better than nothing. As Ethics of the Fathers says, “it’s not your responsibility to complete the task, but nor can you refrain from getting started” (2:16).
Daveed was especially moving since he was a non-Jew who had sustained lifelong injuries while serving the Jewish State. I was painfully aware of how little time we were able to spend together, since there was so much healing to be done.
The Metaplim
While there aren’t easy ways for volunteers to visit IDF bases, there are many opportunities to help our soldiers who need healing. The “HaMetaplim/Therapists” WhatsApp group has a cornucopia of possibilities. A typical post will begin along the lines of “Call for Therapists” before listing the which treatments are needed, e.g. all styles of bodywork treatment, Chinese medicine, or psychotherapy, where the event is taking place, and which army brigade will be visiting. Once you confirm, you are then added to another WhatsApp group for that specific event.
The event I attended took place at a Beverly Hills-style house for wounded soldiers, where the chayalim and their friends wandered between the shawarma station, karaoke, open bar, and the therapy tables. In addition to Yoni and his sister, with their gruesome video of his being shot by Hamas, I met Avi, who was injured in Gaza city when a wall fell on his back, requiring him to have metal poles inserted into both his legs. Then there was Yitzi, who was wheelchair-bound since a bomb had exploded near where he was stationed in Khan Younis, injuring his right leg. After that, a couple of their civilian friends politely came up to me with requests along the lines of “I have a bad back from a car accident two years ago…I wasn’t injured in battle, so technically I shouldn’t be asking tonight…” but I welcomed them onto the treatment table to bring some healing anyway.
One person who especially moved me was a 19-year-old guy called Yosef — except of course that’s not actually his name — and he was there with two of his childhood friends. They were all in great spirits.
Yosef had been injured during the first few months of basic training by carrying equipment that was too heavy for him, and had spent the subsequent year in hospital trying to heal his legs and back. He was there with a couple of friends who translated between us, since Yosef’s spoken English is as good as my Hebrew. He found the session so helpful that the friend asked if I could go and visit Yosef in the rehab hospital where he was staying for a few days each week, and “how much would it cost?” I explained that I was in Israel to volunteer, and payment was out of the question.
Givati at the water park
There are various events taking place in Israel for soldiers who are on leave, and I went along to a fun day at the Yamit 2000 water park in Holon, just south of Tel Aviv. Around 250 young soldiers from the Givati brigade were there to enjoy a day of rest, relaxation, rehabilitation and fun. There were five large inflatable signs with the emblem and name of each of their army units, and every one of the mixed-gender group was in their swim suits, enjoying the water park, a plentiful lunch, and having the opportunity to enjoy therapy sessions with any one of the 20 volunteer therapists who were spread between a couple of indoor rooms.
While a lot of therapists were doing longer sessions, I tried to do a series of 15-20 minute treatment sessions which would allow as many people to benefit as possible. The atmosphere was light and happy, and in lieu of bringing my own treatment table, I improvised once again, using a couple of yoga mats on the floor. On that day I primarily focused on reflexology and some shoulder/back treatments. My immediate neighbors were an acupuncturist, a chiropractor, and a woman who was meditating while waving some smoking sage over her client.
At one point I ended up teaching a small group of guys some basic shoulder relaxation-release massage techniques, along with a basic reflexology sequence that they could share with one another to bring some healing when needed. I hope it will be useful if they get some rest time while taking a break from fighting on the front lines (or at least once they return home after being discharged and spend time with their girlfriends).
Who will live?
Ironically, the part which hit me hardest was seeing the fun they were having at lunch. There was a large outdoor covered area where over 200 people, still in swimsuits, were enjoying themselves. They were eating burgers, fries, salads, sodas, cotton candy and more. Some of the guys were due to be back in Gaza before the end of the week, and I wondered how many of the 200 young soldiers would return home in full health, and how many will not make it? The Rosh Hashanah unitaneh tokef liturgy suddenly rang around my head; “who will live and who will die?” I prayed that all of them will live, return home in full health, and get to enjoy long and wonderful lives.
I had visions of the war films and musicals, the night before soldiers are deployed to war. “Good Morning Vietnam,” “Full Metal Jacket,” or the words of “Miss Saigon’s” opening number “still at midnight the party goes on/ a goodbye party in hell.” Except this was far from hell; it was a beautiful sunny day on the outskirts of Tel Aviv.
On my final day of volunteering I paid the promised visit to see Yosef — the soldier who had been injured during basic training — at his rehab unit. We had lots of laughs, used Google translate on our respective phones to make the conversation easier, and it was a heartwarming experience. After giving an extended two-hour treatment, we said our goodbyes and I headed out.
Hostage Square
By this point I was physically and emotionally depleted after shlepping up and down Israel dragging a small suitcase, frequently mixing up bus stops and having to walk an extra kilometer to the next one, not to mention the work itself. I thought I’d take a quick stop to Tel Aviv and visit Hostage Square, just by the Museum of Art, where there are exhibits, flyers, meeting tents and memorials to the hostages held by Hamas. It was a tremendously heavy day, since six hostages had just been murdered — including Hersh Goldberg-Polin.
I walked through the art installation that recreated a portion of one of the Gaza terror tunnels. It was as chilling as you would expect. Nearby is the latest version of the empty Shabbat table first set up in October 2023 with an empty chair for each of the hostages. The table sat inside an elegant Sukkah and continues to have a heavy impact since as yet another festival as rolled by and we still have hostages in Gaza.
The table [with empty chairs] sat inside an elegant Sukkah and continues to have a heavy impact since as yet another festival as rolled by and we still have hostages in Gaza.
I visited a book stand and saw copies of “The Garden of Emunah,” which I already owned. Although I had no intention to buy it, the lady behind the stand said “this is in the merit of my son who is being held hostage in Gaza.” My heart sank, and I bought a copy. A girl nearby told me that her boyfriend was killed on Oct. 8 in a kibbutz near Gaza. The day just kept getting worse.
It was time to head to the train station and get back to where I was staying in Jerusalem, so I followed the Google Maps for the short 10-minute walk. I really was exhausted, albeit incomparable with the exhaustion of our soldiers on the frontline. Fortunately the station was just 10 minutes away. The only problem was that there were 300,000 people between me and the station, since I had inadvertently walked into the biggest anti-government rally in Israel’s history. On the following day, I joined the crowds on the streets of Jerusalem while Hersh Goldberg-Polin’s family drove by as part of his funeral procession. It was a momentous time to be in Israel, the very air we breathed felt heavy, and you could feel that this is a nation with PTSD.
To share or not to share?
This was the most meaningful trip of my life, but I was torn about whether or not to share these stories, and whether to share photos on social media, albeit with the soldiers’ faces completely hidden. The decision was to share — not to gain any personal credit since what I did was just a brief trip and drop in the ocean of Israel volunteerism — but to help publicize how Israel’s therapists are doing such a crucial job of supporting soldiers, and to inspire more therapists to visit Israel and offer services.
Israel needs volunteers
Right now, Israel needs volunteers, and there is a high chance that your skills — whatever they are — can be put to great use. If you have skills as a therapist, you are needed. If you want to pick fruit, you are needed. If you want to make sandwiches, fold blankets for soldiers, help families who have lost providers, or do any one of hundreds of tasks, you are needed.
Right now, Israel needs volunteers, and there is a high chance that your skills — whatever they are — can be put to great use. If you have skills as a therapist, you are needed. If you want to pick fruit, you are needed. If you want to make sandwiches, fold blankets for soldiers, help families who have lost providers, or do any one of hundreds of tasks, you are needed.
The “Swords of Iron” Facebook group is a great resource for all-things-volunteering in our nation’s homeland. If you are a therapist of any kind, and interested in finding out how to get connected with the Israeli therapy organizations, please reach out to me via Instagram @marcusjfreed or via www.freedhealing.com. My teacher Rabbi Sacks once said “Where what we want to do meets what needs to be done, that is where God wants us to be.”
Where does God want you to be?
The Israeli volunteer therapists ‘HaMetaplim’ WhatsApp group can be joined at www.hametaplim.org
Marcus J Freed – www.freedhealing.com and on Instagram @marcusjfreed.