OP-ED: October 7, two years on: the light of Ofek Rousso

Dotan Rousso writes, "Over 1,200 innocent people were killed. The world remembers the numbers, but behind every number was a life — full of dreams, laughter, and love."

Source: Wikimedia Commons

By Dotan Rousso

Two years have passed since that black Saturday, October 7, 2023 — the day that tore through Israel’s soul. In a few short hours, thousands of Hamas terrorists crossed the border, murdering entire families, burning homes, and taking hundreds hostage. Over 1,200 innocent people were killed. The world remembers the numbers, but behind every number was a life — full of dreams, laughter, and love.

For me, that number has a name: Ofek Rousso.
My nephew.
A son, a brother, a friend — and a hero.

Ofek was born on October 2, 2002, to my brother Yaniv and his wife, Faye. From an early age, it was clear he wasn’t an ordinary child. He had a quiet confidence, a shy smile, and eyes so blue they seemed to hold both gentleness and determination. He mastered the saxophone, drums, and guitar, won international karate competitions, and even became a professional skateboarder. Whatever he did, he pursued it with full devotion.

That was Ofek’s way — “all or all.”
Not half effort, not halfway belief. If he set his mind to something, he gave it everything he had.

As high school drew to a close, Ofek, like so many young Israelis, began preparing for military service. He knew exactly where he wanted to be: in Shayetet 13, Israel’s elite naval commando unit — widely considered the Israeli equivalent of the U.S. Navy SEALs. It is the most physically and mentally demanding unit in the Israeli Defense Forces, a place where only the strongest and most disciplined endure. Thousands apply each year; only a small handful ever make it to the end.

The Shayetet 13 training course spans about 18 months and pushes recruits beyond exhaustion — through sleepless nights, freezing dives, endless marches, and relentless physical and psychological tests. It begins with a brutal week-long selection known as Gibush, which only a fraction of candidates survive. Out of 27 in Ofek’s group, he alone completed it and advanced to the full course.

What followed was a grueling year and a half of discipline, courage, and endurance that only a handful of trainees ever complete out of the thousands who begin. Ofek was among that rare few who reached the finish line and earned the Shayetet 13 combat pin — a symbol of strength, perseverance, and quiet excellence.

In June 2023, he graduated as a naval commando fighter. His parents, sister, girlfriend, and grandparents stood proudly as he received his pin from the Minister of Defense and the Commander of the Israeli Navy. It was the proudest day of his life.

Just five days after celebrating his 21st birthday, fate intervened.
On October 7, 2023, as chaos erupted across Israel’s south, Ofek and his Commando team were urgently deployed to Kibbutz Be’eri — one of the epicentres of the massacre. What they encountered there defied comprehension. Moving from house to house, they rescued civilians, evacuated children, and fought heavily armed terrorists at close range. Vastly outnumbered, they held their ground and saved countless lives.

At around 2:00 a.m. on October 8, Ofek heard a call for help — an IDF officer had been critically wounded. Without hesitation, he ran into the line of fire to reach him. In that moment of pure courage and compassion, true to his nature, Ofek was struck by gunfire and killed instantly. The officer survived.

Two years have passed, but time has not dulled the ache — or the pride.
Ofek lived a complete and meaningful life, though it was heartbreakingly short. He embodied integrity, kindness, and quiet strength. He didn’t just serve his country; he lived by the conviction that doing what is right matters more than comfort or safety.

In an age where cynicism too often replaces conviction, Ofek’s story reminds us that true heroism lies not in words, but in actions — in showing up, giving your all, and believing that good is still worth fighting for.

We still speak his name, not as part of a tragedy, but as part of a legacy.
The light that shone in him on that battlefield in Be’eri did not fade. It continues to guide all who knew him — and all who understand what it means to live, and give, with all or all.

Comments: dotanrousso@yahoo.com