Staff-Sergeant Agam Naim becomes first female IDF soldier to fall in Gaza combat

IDF St.-Sgt. Agam Naim became the first female IDF soldier to fall in combat in the Gaza Strip after she, along with three other soldiers, was killed in a building explosion on Tuesday.

Naim was a 20-year-old paramedic from Kibbutz Mishmarot. On Thursday, she was supposed to complete six months of service in Gaza, go on regular leave, and begin instructing a paramedics course at Bahad 10, the medical corps school.

She had already renewed her passport, intending to take a short vacation abroad with friends for a break from the months of fighting.

“Her parents were very afraid of her service. She came for advice, and there was a big family conversation when she was sent to Gaza,” her aunt, Muriel, whose home in Mishmarot is next to Agam’s, told Walla. “In the end, we told her to follow her heart, and she said something I’ll never forget. She said that she wouldn’t be able to look into the eyes of the mothers of her comrades in her unit if they were going to Gaza and she wasn’t there to take care of them.”

“She had been home over the weekend because she was ill and only returned on Monday. The unit doctor told her she didn’t have to enter because she was finishing her assignment on Thursday.”

“Nevertheless, she insisted, saying she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to her comrades. We spoke to her on Monday before she entered. She called from the staging area, saying she loved us and everything was fine but that she would be unreachable as she would turn off her phone until Thursday. We told her we loved her and to take care of herself. And that was it.”

Agam was born in Karkur to parents from the Ben-Lulu family, who are longtime residents of Karkur, and the Naim family, who are longtime residents of Pardess Hanna.

When she was in sixth grade, the family moved to Kibbutz Mishmarot, a few kilometers away. She leaves behind her parents, Dorit and, Yoram, (who everyone calls Dudi), and two older sisters, Yuval and Peleg.

Agam was the youngest child, the stunning one, who had an inner happiness that radiated to everyone around her. She was independent, always knew what she wanted, how to handle herself in any situation, raised herself in many ways, and was beloved everywhere.

She had many friends and excelled at everything she did, everything coming easily to her. Before her military service, she spent a year at a post-hospitalization boarding school for boys with the Kama organization at Kibbutz Harduf, which she loved deeply.

A history of excellence

“She completed the paramedic course with flying colors, earning a score of 97, an exceptional achievement, and we were all so proud. As a ‘reward,’ her commanders sent her to the 401st Brigade in Gaza, where she had been attached for the past six months.”

“We asked every day if the country’s leaders were worth the price its citizens are paying,” said her aunt Muriel.

“The horrible thing is that we send the kids, knowing the price isn’t worth it. That’s the worst part. Now, there are more bereaved parents who must cope with this terrible price and live with it for the rest of their lives, knowing they let her go for something they maybe no longer believe in.”

Just two months ago, Agam’s mother posted on Facebook, sharing her feelings of loss of control and panic attacks that came without warning upon learning that her daughter was entering Gaza as part of her military role.

She also shared the fear she felt when she learned about another paramedic who had been wounded in Gaza a few months earlier and the terror she experienced until Agam called and reassured her that she was okay.

“Agam received invitations to the paramedics course, and we were so happy. Maybe she’ll become a doctor one day, wouldn’t that be great? She finished the course with honors, and we were informed she was assigned to the armored corps. Two days after the course ended, she was already in Gaza with the engineering corps. We stopped breathing, stopped sleeping. Life changed. Suddenly, I discovered panic attacks that came without warning. At home, it was easier, but one day, it happened at the kindergarten. Agami called and said she was going in, and I wasn’t ready. She was supposed to enter a few days later.”

“Slowly, slowly, I got used to the new situation, telling myself engineering is okay; they go in to clear areas of bombs after others have cleared the terrorists. I heard the news – an anti-tank missile fired at a Namer; eight engineering corps soldiers were killed. Agami was home that day; those were her platoon comrades. The pain was immense, terrifying. Another day, I got a call: ‘Have you heard from Agam?’ No, why? ‘A paramedic was injured.’ Again, I stopped breathing, seeing black, trying to find out more. Another call came – no, the injured paramedic was from Jenin. No relief. That day, we didn’t know where she was. We found out later she was with Givati.”

In her final post, Agam’s mother reflected on the fear of her daughter returning to normal life after witnessing the horrors of war, writing, “Just this week, she treated wounded soldiers, some of them severely injured. It’s been a challenging period, with no proper sleep or rest. What kind of child will I get back at the end of this war? I hope that soon my daughter will return home safe in body and mind, that the war will end, and that we’ll return to normal life, God willing. My Agami, I’m so proud of you, my beloved, waiting for you.”