Israel's mountain guardians: The IDF reservists watching Hezbollah

Hermon mountain is shrouded in clouds. It’s mid-March and the highest mountain in Israel, which sits atop the northeastern Golan like a colossus, is still cold and windy. The wind was biting when we arrived, but it had the advantage of blowing away some of the clouds, so for an hour we could see far into Israel and down into the Hula Valley, where it meets up with Lebanon.

This is the landscape of the frontier. Today the frontier is even more important because of the tensions with Hezbollah and, to a wider extent, the threats Iran poses via Syria.

To get to the Hermon, I drove up from Jerusalem. As I ascended the Golan Heights, via the bridge over the Jordan named after the “daughters of Jacob,” there were sirens in the Hula Valley warning of rocket fire. Israel has been evacuating the northern border since October, but the rocket fire continues to pound communities that have to sit under the northern threat.

I traversed the Golan, coming to the Druze villages and towns that sit at the bottom of the Hermon. Majdal Shams is usually full of tourists this time of year. They would usually be transitioning from ski season to spring. Today, the tourists are gone because of the war tensions.

From Majdal Shams, the road to the mountain snakes up along the sides of the Hermon. You cross through a gate warning that this is a military zone. Eventually you also cross through the deserted kiosks that would usually be where people pay NIS 40 to go skiing, or in the summer to see the mountain.

Now this is the realm of the mountain gods – and of the IDF.

An Iron Dome battery is visible in the distance. The ski center is also deserted, the giant parking lot empty except for a few cars and a line of white tracked vehicles used to navigate snow – when there is snow. An army truck with a group of reservists is present. The men are sucking down a few cigarettes and talking, their Tavor rifles slung over their shoulders.

These men are reservists who were called up on Oct. 7 to guard the northern border. They have done their tour of duty, having been deployed in the hot spots in October and November. Then they got some home rest, and now they have been sent to this land of ice and snow.

The men of this unit, which we can’t specify for security reasons, are veterans of the Golani infantry. Many served a decade ago. Now they are part of the 188th Armored Brigade’s sector. The brigade is part of the IDF’s 36th armored division, which saw action after Oct. 7 when it was sent down to the Gaza Strip.

The 188th helped to drive across the Strip, cutting off Gaza City from southern Gaza, and taking the port of Gaza together with the elite Shayetet naval commandos. The 188th also fought in other areas such as Zaytun, and the central camps such as Bureij. Then it was redeployed to the North in January, along with other parts of the 36th. Only the 7th Armored Brigade, which is also part of the 36th, was left in Gaza, to fight in Khan Yunis.

The armored brigade got a bit of rest and was sent to guard the mountains in the North, sending companies of tanks to Mount Dov. Its sector includes the Hermon, but you don’t send tanks up to mountains like this.

WARFARE IN these mountains and snow has a long and glorious history. Israel controlled the Hermon after the 1967 war and had a fort on the top of the peak. In 1973, the Syrians conquered the fort in a tough battle. Israel then retook the mountain.

Today, Israeli troops patrol at 2,200 meters in the biting cold, while the Syrians control the higher parts of the mountain, which reaches a maximum elevation of 2,800 meters. Israel has a special alpine unit for fighting up here. It is unique terrain and requires special capabilities. However, this winter has been relatively warm, and most of the snow is now melted. The troops caution against too much optimism about the weather. It can change in an instant, and a storm is expected to arrive mid-week.

Maj. Adiel is the commanding officer here. He’s tall and has a trim athletic build. At 40 years old, he’s older than most of the men here. He was drafted in 2003 during the Second Intifada and went to the elite Egoz unit. That unit specialized in warfare in the terrain of northern Israel and Lebanon. It used to be part of Golani; now it’s part of the commando brigade and spearheading operations in Khan Yunis under the 98th Division.

The major served in the Second Lebanon War and knows Hezbollah as an enemy for many years. He fought in battles such as Bint Jbeil and other places in 2006. He left the army in 2007 and went to reserves. He has done the commander’s course and now runs this company. He shows us around the Hermon. A short drive takes us up to the top of the ski slopes, which are barren now, like a wasteland on Mars.

We can see the Golan spread out below us, the wind turbines that have recently been built, and we can see deep into Israel and Lebanon. This is the area below us in Israel that Hezbollah has targeted with thousands of rockets since Oct. 7. Israeli commanders and politicians have vowed to eventually deal with Hezbollah’s threats, but so far the North remains under threat, and communities are evacuated.

MAJOR ADIEL was awakened on Oct. 7 like most of Israel, to the sound of the rocket fire from Gaza and the sirens. Staying with his brothers near Ashkelon, he had a plan to go jogging that morning after 6 a.m.  Instead of running for fun, however, he found himself running to go back to the army, along with his brothers.

By 11 in the morning, he was packed and heading north, where he received his Tavor rifle and gear and got ready for the chance that Hezbollah would enter the war and invade, much as Hamas had done. They waited over the next few nights, tense, waiting for the Hezbollah assault. Instead, they faced sporadic fire and some infiltration attempts.

After months on the front in the North, the men got some time off for about a month and were called back recently. “Now we are guarding this, which is the most challenging in terms of weather and geography,” he says. He shows us around the base, which is built into the mountain like a fort. It’s all concrete and a warren of passageways. There is a dining hall and areas for cheese and meat. The rooms are simple, but the area is warm compared to the harsh wind outside. There is a bookcase with The Firm by John Grisham and Master and the Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov.

The men are cognizant of the history of 1973 and the battles fought here in the past. Because the weather changes quickly, it’s essential to know the enemy and also defend against any type of threat, from infiltrations to drone and rocket threats. The snow may melt quickly, providing the enemy different ways to approach, for instance.

“In the end, to hold on to the Hermon is essential; to control this area. It’s the first time in 16 years that I did reserve duty up here,” he said. “Now with the snow melting, we can see this area and the view, and you can see to Tiberias, the whole Jordan and Golan, and the whole country. You understand why it’s called the ‘eyes of the country’: it’s not just seeing into the enemy states but also our country,” he says. Whoever controls the Hermon, controls threats to Israel from here.

AFTER A quick walk through the dining hall and down some pathways, we come to a room and sit. First-Sgt. Leor describes his experience with the unit. He is from Teaneck, New Jersey. An observant Jewish warrior, he drafted in 2014 to Golani and completed his service like the other men, and he is now back as a reservist.

When the Hamas attack occurred on Oct. 7, Leor was in Jerusalem with his wife and children. His wife was nine months pregnant.

“There was panic in the country,” he recalls. Rockets were fired at Jerusalem after eight in the morning. He checked his phone after Shabbat and found out about the extent of the attack. “People who grew up here have a sense of there being a Yom Kippur War” type of situation, he recalls. The next day, his wife gave birth to a son.

Leor is now here on the Hermon, and he describes the intensity of the situation, along with the complex weather conditions. “We know we are in the middle of a war. It may not be the Gaza front, [but] there is tension and we feel serious responsibility on our shoulders. We make sure the northern border is safe,” he says. Like the others, he feels a connection to the Yom Kippur War and the history here.

He says that the training the men have been through prepares them for all eventualities. “We received some unique training from those who specialize in that, the Alpinist troops, who prepared us to deal with the conditions and the climate, the cold and wind, and altitude. We feel the altitude in our breathing, for instance,” he says. Indeed, at 2,000 meters, there is less air up here. It’s not Everest, but the body must adjust.

“We are from all over the country and different religious and political beliefs,” he says of the unit. “You get to meet different people from across the spectrum; you get to experience that outside of the bubble at home. The country might feel divided, but here you can grow together and learn from each other. Each person has their own personal Oct. 7 story. Some were on trips abroad; each has different circumstances that led to their experience where they ended up.” Now the men have grown together as a group. Some had served together before, but around two-thirds have gotten to know each other only since the war began.

We walk back through the warren of concrete passageways and through the dining hall until eventually we reach an exit to the freezing cold. The wind is worse than before, howling like the sound of a jet engine. Tucked into an alcove, a few men smoke and there is old exercise equipment. Nearby are two grills and a HESCO box. In the distance, a man in green camo comes lumbering along, back from some faraway post or pillbox. He’s First Sergeant Noam, and he sports a “Hamas Hunting Club” patch on his tactical vest, which fits snuggly over his ceramic body armor.

Like the others, he was called up on Oct. 7, released back home in December and then brought back to guard this Mordor-like mountain wilderness. When he first came up north for reserve duty, he joined the other 300,000 Israelis going to their units. Many were sent to the North. The men sat watch on the border in places near Yuval and Kiryat Shmona, and near Kfar Giladi. It was a difficult period because of the intense pressure to guard the border, gear had to be hastily gathered. Men needed more of everything in those days. Tactical vests, plates, even food.

They faced off against the Hezbollah and Hamas attempts to infiltrate from the north. There were drone attacks. Dozens of mortars fell on their position. A drone even struck nearby. “It was crazy that no one got hurt,” he said.

In contrast to the chaos of the first month on the line, this fort in the Hermon has more comforts. There are normal places to sleep inside the bunkers; no more thin mattresses or crashing in random places in the cold or on the floors of civilian buildings along the border. Logistics are now humming, and the base proves it. There are mountains of fruits and avocados and other items to eat.

The men here are prepared. But they are also a cog in a larger system of the big army. Some are hungry for a possible war with Hezbollah, to finally strike back at the terrorist group that has taken pot shots at Israel with thousands of attacks in five months; the terrorist group that has killed and wounded people in the North and forced thousands of Israelis from their homes. 