The Shrem family’s life was forever altered on July 14, when Shlomo "Shlomi" Shrem, a 20-year-old soldier in the IDF, tragically fell while serving in Gaza. For his mother, Hindy Shrem, the loss of her beloved son has left an irreplaceable void, but she is determined to ensure that his legacy of love, humility, and selflessness lives on.
Shlomi was born on September 13, 2004, in Jerusalem, a day that Hindy describes as the beginning of something extraordinary. “From the moment he was born, I knew he was special,” Hindy told The Jerusalem Post, her voice filled with a quiet reverence in the loss her family suffered less than two months prior. “He was a soul that came down to earth with a purpose.”
Growing up in the town of Efrat, Shlomi’s spiritual journey began early. He was a diligent student, deeply immersed in Torah studies, and he found his calling at Yeshivat Atzmona, a place that aligned with his desire for religious purity.
“He wanted to remain as close to God as possible,” Hindy reflected. “He always believed that his service in the army was part of that mission – to protect the Land of Israel and its people.”
Shlomi’s commitment to others was evident from an early age. “He was always looking out for others – his brothers, his friends, even complete strangers,” Hindy said. As a young child, he took responsibility for his family, helping around the house and volunteering in various community projects. “He was humble, always giving, never expecting anything in return,” she said. “He wrote us letters explaining his desire to be closer to God and to help others.”
In his short life, Shlomi became a role model to many. His friends would often describe him as someone who exuded positivity and kindness.
“He had this energy about him,” Hindy recalled. “Every time he came home from the army, it felt like a holiday. He’d walk in with that big smile, throw his bag down, and ask, ‘What can I do to help?’”
Shlomi’s connection with his younger brother Lahav, who has special needs, was particularly profound. The two were inseparable, and Shlomi made a special effort to ensure Lahav felt loved and supported.
“The day before Shlomi fell, it was Lahav’s birthday,” Hindy said, her eyes welling with tears. “We sent Shlomi a video on Lahav’s birthday, and we saved a piece of [birthday] cake for him when he got home. That never happened.”
The final days: A promise unkept
On the morning of July 14, 2024, Shlomi and his mother exchanged their usual messages.
“Every day, no matter how busy he was, we communicated,” Hindy said. “He always made sure to let me know he was okay, even if it was just a quick message or a WhatsApp.”
That day, Shlomi was part of a tank unit tasked with a dangerous mission in Gaza. He and his comrades performed bravely, taking out enemy positions, but tragedy struck after an explosion caused a devastating fire. “They tried to extinguish the flames, but it was impossible,” Hindy recounted. “Shlomi died right away. His [commander] was 80% burned, and managed to survive. But in his tank of four, he was the only one to survive.”
Shlomi stayed physically intact. His peyot (sidelocks) and tzitzit remained preserved, as if untouched by the fire completely.
The knock on the door came shortly after Hindy had sent a text asking for reassurance. “I had this overwhelming feeling that something was wrong,” she said. “I knew in my heart, but I couldn’t admit it to myself. When the knock came, I knew it was the worst news a mother could hear.”
Shlomi’s death left a profound hole in the hearts of his family, but it also illuminated the remarkable life he lived.
“He was everything to us,” Hindy said. “He was our leader, our protector. He was the one who made sure we were all okay.”
His older sister, Maytal, always felt that Shlomi was really her older brother, and now feels the absence of her protector deeply. “Shlomi was her security,” Hindy shared. “She feels lost without him, like half of her world is gone.”
Shlomi’s brothers, Matan, 16, and Lahav, 11, have also been deeply affected by his death. Matan, trying to find a way to cope, holds on to the belief that the Messiah will bring Shlomi back. “He keeps telling me it’s temporary,” Hindy said. “But we all miss him so much, and we don’t know how to move on without him.”
Despite the pain, the Shrem family is determined to honor Shlomi’s memory in meaningful ways. “He wanted to serve God and Israel, and that’s exactly what he did,” Hindy said. “We’re going to make sure his legacy lives on. We’re going to dedicate a corner in Atzmona, the place where he felt closest to God, and we’re creating a memorial for him.”
What sets Shlomi apart in Hindy’s mind is the way he lived with such clarity and purpose. “He was so sure of who he was and what he wanted,” she said. “He never wavered in his faith. Even in the army, he was always a light for others. His fellow soldiers would say, ‘You could always count on Shlomi. He was there for you, no matter what.’”
Hindy’s voice shook as she recalled the stories shared by Shlomi’s comrades in arms. “They told me that when Shlomi prayed, it was as if he was speaking directly to God. He had such a deep connection, even in the toughest times. He was always smiling, even when he was tired, even when things were hard. He never complained.”
Shlomi’s selflessness extended beyond his immediate family. He had a natural ability to make everyone around him feel loved and valued. “He was always the one who collected everyone,” Hindy remembered. “Whether it was family time or spending time with his friends, Shlomi made sure everyone was together, happy, and included.”
In his school’s 12th grade tradition of each student writing about themselves and their experiences, Shlomi wrote a heartfelt passage, a poem. Being the last of the students on the list, due to his name’s point in the alphabetical order, he noted that much of his message was preceded by his classmates in their WhatsApp messages. He chose to talk about what he was going through at the time.
“In fact, a year of preparation cannot in any way be called ‘stopping life for a moment,’ ‘time for myself,’ etc. We learn mainly how to be great people. Great in Torah, great in the army, great in life, great everywhere. To transform from a private person into a person of mission. A mission for the sake of the Torah and for the sake of the entire nation. Anyone who doesn’t come to kitchen duty or weekly cleaning is not a human being,” he wrote passionately.
He continued, “We have a huge responsibility for the future of the people of Israel, each of us in what we do in our lives.”
“From a personal perspective, I am beginning to understand more about why I live,” he wrote. “Why the soul returns to me every morning anew instead of deciding to stay above. We do not necessarily live to enjoy ourselves. Slowly, I am beginning to understand the divine will that exists in the world, that this world has an aspiration and a final goal that each of us is an inseparable part of.”
He emphasized his lifelong need to learn, and grow. “I have not yet found a clear answer to my role here, but I know that it exists, and it begins first of all with approaching the work of God and the labor of Torah, through which only the soul is purified and the soul can burst forth and reveal the destiny of each of us,” he emphasized.
His mother said that, through everything, he wanted to be closer to God. “I have an absolute commitment to the Creator and to doing His will alone, and there is no room for our small, private desires, because we, as individuals, cannot be the center of the world.
“Right now, I have a huge desire for my heart to finally open to Torah. I want it to become the center of my life, and to simply accept upon myself the yoke of the true Kingdom of Heaven, in the simplest sense of the term.”
He then quoted a song he loved to sing by Motty Steinmetz, titled “Yehei Ra’ava”: “May it be Your will to open my heart to the Torah.”
THOUGH THE Shrem family are devastated by their loss, they hold on to the light that Shlomi brought into their lives.
“I know he would want us to be strong, to keep going,” his loving mother said. “He always believed that we’re close to the redemption, that we’re almost there. I believe him. I have to. I’ll hold on to that hope.”
For his mother, the days are a mixture of deep sadness and a desire to continue living in a way that would make Shlomi proud. “It’s hard to imagine life without him,” she said. “But I know he wouldn’t want me to give up. He gave everything for his country and his family. He wanted us to be happy, to keep moving forward.”
Among his letters saved, his family noted a passage that he had written in his final days, ahead of the incident. “You don’t need to worry. I’m in good hands, God willing,” he wrote. “Everyone has many thoughts about many things that could happen, including me, but in the end there is One who directs reality in the best way, no matter what people think.”
As Hindy and her family face the unimaginable pain of living without their beloved Shlomi, they find solace in the belief that his spirit continues to guide them. “He was always there for us, and I know he still is,” Hindy said, her voice steady but filled with sorrow. “I just have to trust that he’s watching over us, and that one day we’ll be together again.”
Shlomi Shrem may have left this world far too soon, but the impact he made on those around him will never be forgotten. His memory will live on in the hearts of his family, friends, and everyone who had the privilege of knowing him. In their grief, they find comfort in knowing that Shlomi’s light, his unwavering faith, and his love for others will continue to be a source of inspiration long after his death.
The family had been excited about a planned trip to Eilat, which Shlomi had shared his excitement for, and where he had looked forward to spending quality time with the people he cherished most.
“Instead of going on our trip, we sat shiva,” Hindy said.
In the coming weeks, the family will take the trip to honor his memory, and take his neshama (soul) with them.