Linoy “Luna” Olenik’s story is one of resilience, tragedy, and the power to turn personal pain into a mission for change. On August 6, 2006, a day marked by tragedy at the Kfar Giladi cemetery, Linoy’s life took a dramatic turn. She witnessed the loss of 12 soldiers, an event that not only altered her life but also set her on a path of advocacy for others grappling with the unseen wounds of war.
The Day That Changed Everything: The Kfar Giladi Disaster
On August 6, 2006, reserve soldiers from the Northern Paratroopers Brigade gathered in a parking lot near the Kibbutz Kfar Giladi cemetery, preparing to head into Lebanon. Among them was Linoy Olenik, a Battalion Liaison Officer who was tasked with organizing soldiers’ rosters and ensuring everything ran smoothly.
In a twist of fate, Linoy was asked to drive some soldiers to a nearby prayer group. Before she left, Yossi Kashkash, a beloved comrade nicknamed “Everyone’s Dad,” asked her for a hug. She complied, not fully understanding why. Moments after she drove away, a Katyusha rocket struck the exact spot where Yossi and 11 other soldiers stood. The attack, now known as the “Kfar Giladi Disaster,” claimed their lives and wounded 31 others.
Reflecting on that moment, Linoy recalls the horror of identifying the bodies of her comrades and witnessing firsthand the devastation left behind. “It wasn’t an easy experience,” she says. Yet, her duties didn’t stop there. She soon found herself visiting hospitals, informing families, and trying to support her Battalion as they entered Lebanon for combat.
The Struggle with Post-Trauma: Signs She Couldn’t Ignore
Three years after the Kfar Giladi disaster, Linoy was invited on a healing trip to the Netherlands. It was here, while sailing along the serene canals, that she had a revelation: she had been suffering from post-trauma all along.
“I thought there was something wrong with me for being so obsessed with death and the wounded,” she says. But the physical symptoms—vomiting, itching, sweating, and lack of sleep—were not isolated occurrences. They were signs of deeper emotional and psychological wounds from the war.
Linoy decided to confront her trauma head-on. “I started writing letters to those I was angry with,” she explains, venting frustrations she had bottled up for years. Soon after, she applied for disability recognition from the Ministry of Defense, a move she had long resisted despite working on behalf of other wounded soldiers.
A New Chapter: Turning Pain into Purpose
Despite the dark times, Linoy never allowed her trauma to define her completely. After the disaster, she continued her reserves duty and even helped bring the battalion back to operational status. At the same time, she pursued a law degree, focusing on helping disabled veterans get the support they deserved.
Linoy’s firsthand experiences uniquely positioned her to advocate for others dealing with physical and emotional injuries. “I help them benefit financially from their medical condition,” she says. “I know how it feels when a veteran tries to commit suicide and is accused of faking it.”
Over time, Linoy became a powerful advocate for wounded veterans, offering legal advice and guiding them through the often-complex process of disability claims. Her work even earned her a commendation for her actions during and after the Kfar Giladi disaster.
Coping with PTSD: Linoy’s Personal Battle
In her personal life, Linoy’s journey with PTSD has been a constant challenge. She has dealt with everything from medication to suicide attempts and even struggled with the idea of hospitalization. Fortunately, with the support of her husband Omer, a fellow veteran she met during her service, she has found ways to manage the symptoms.
The couple now has three children, but Linoy’s struggles didn’t disappear overnight. Her firstborn learned to recognize her mother’s episodes, and Linoy faced several miscarriages, likely exacerbated by her mental state. Despite the difficulties, she’s created a loving family and built a successful law firm that now has three branches.
“I’m not the same person I was before the war,” Linoy admits, “but I’m no longer angry with myself, and I’ve learned to live with the guilt.”
Helping Others: Linoy’s Ongoing Mission
Today, Linoy’s law firm focuses on representing clients with disabilities before institutions like the National Insurance Institute and the Ministry of Defense. Her unique blend of professional expertise and personal experience allows her to connect deeply with those she helps. “I lecture at associations for people with chronic illnesses, and when I tell them I’m an IDF disabled veteran, they can’t believe it because my disability is invisible.”
She refers to her PTSD as a “transparent disability”—something you can’t see but that profoundly affects day-to-day life. “A mentally ill person can’t just ‘learn to live’ with the uncertainty of when the next attack will come,” she emphasizes.
In addition to her legal work, Linoy has been involved with the Zahal Disabled Veterans Organization, volunteering her time to assist veterans in her hometown of Ra’anana. She’s also participated in rehabilitative trips, including a ski delegation to Geneva organized by the Beit Halochem Friends Association.
Linoy Olenik’s story is one of perseverance and growth. From the horrors of the Kfar Giladi disaster to her struggle with PTSD and her eventual transformation into a champion for disabled veterans, her life serves as an inspiration to anyone who has faced trauma and sought to turn it into something positive. Her journey is a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there is hope for healing and a chance to make a difference.