Some people are born with a name that seems to predict their story. Such was the case with Staff Sergeant Orr Blumovitz z”l. His father chose the name “Orr” after a character in Joseph Heller’s novel Catch-22—a clever and resourceful soldier. For Orr, it wasn’t just a name—it captured his very essence. From a young age, he was drawn to books and words, with an insatiable thirst for knowledge.
Military history, in particular, captivated him. He grew into a young man whose two greatest passions—tanks and books—might have seemed worlds apart, yet together they shaped the remarkable person he became.
These loves accompanied him throughout his life, right up until his death in Gaza, during an attack on an armored military vehicle. But before that, he lived a life full of meaning.
When Orr was still in elementary school, his cousin from the United States recommended a new book to him: Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. When they met again two weeks later, she asked if he had started reading it. Orr, of course, had already finished the entire series. It was the first time he read a Harry Potter book—but certainly not the last. The series became one of his favorites, and he returned to it many times.
A few years ago, Orr’s family traveled to Italy to visit a special Harry Potter exhibition. Naturally, Orr became their guide. “He was absolutely over the moon,” recalls his mother, Roni. “He moved from exhibit to exhibit, explaining to us what each display was about, from which book and which chapter. He really brought the whole experience to life for us,” she says.
Orr devoured books at an astonishing pace and read anything he could get his hands on—but military history remained his greatest passion. “What fascinated him most was the military,” his mother shares. “Every Independence Day, he would ask us to visit the Armored Corps Memorial Site. He would climb onto the tanks, examine their construction, and study every detail. We have photos of him as a little boy, standing on a tank, wearing the communication headset, inspecting every part.”
Orr’s love of military history was nurtured at home: both of his grandfathers and his father had fought in Israel’s wars.
When Orr was in elementary school, one of his grandfathers—who fought in the Battle of Ammunition Hill during the Six-Day War—gave him a hefty book detailing the history of the war, along with a hand-drawn map showing the course of the battle. Orr read the book cover to cover and carefully kept the map, preserving his grandfather’s handwritten notes.
Beyond Israel’s wars, Orr developed a deep fascination with World War II history. He was especially intrigued by Hitler’s failed ambition to build a “super-tank” – the Landkreuzer P. 1000 “Ratte”. “He studied that tank down to the bolts,” says Roni.
One day, when Orr was in fifth grade, he came home from school deeply upset. “I remember it so clearly,” his mother says. “He was really angry. When I asked him what had happened, he said he was furious that at school they only focused on the Holocaust of the Jewish people. He said it was wrong that no one talked about the millions of others who were also murdered. He felt it was discriminatory—and that the whole story needed to be told, not just part of it.”
At the end of that school year, the family traveled to France. Orr suggested that, alongside visiting Paris, they also visit Normandy, the site of the D-Day landings. “He was still a little kid, very short,” Roni recalls. “We stood by the sea, near the museum where abandoned Allied vehicles were displayed. Orr stood there explaining everything to us, describing the vehicles and their history. He completely took charge of the visit—he was our guide.”
When they returned to Israel, Orr decided to share what he had learned with his classmates. He and his father worked for hours preparing a presentation about the Normandy landings. When he presented it to his class, the students were captivated.
The years passed. Orr grew into a teenager, and his enlistment drew near.
Despite not having the highest medical profile (Profile 97), Orr was determined to serve in a combat unit. “One time, we were talking about his enlistment and his struggle to serve in a combat role,” Roni recalls. “And he said to us: ‘What do you expect? One grandfather was in the Palmach (the elite fighting force of the pre-state Haganah underground), the other was wounded in the Six-Day War. My father served in a combat unit. Did you really think I was going to do anything else in the army?’”
Orr’s persistence paid off. In the end, he was drafted into the IDF’s Combat Engineering Corps.
Orr also channeled his deep knowledge of history and military affairs into advocacy for Israel. At around the age of 15, he joined a massive international chat group focused on military strategy. It wasn’t long before he was promoted to administrator—one of just 30 admins selected from more than 36,000 users. Orr was the only administrator under the age of 20.
His family only discovered the extent of his involvement after his death. “The day after Orr was killed, I got a message from someone who said he had known Orr through the group, and that many people from the community wanted to come to the funeral,” recalls his mother, Roni. “At the time, we were in the thick of preparing the funeral, and I didn’t really grasp what he meant. During the shiva, it became clear—some of them actually came to the funeral, and others watched it by satellite broadcast or through recordings that were shared with the group.”
The chat group included members from all over the world—Iranians, Iraqis, French, Americans—and they all wanted to convey to Orr’s family how much they had admired and loved him, his knowledge, and his kindness.
Later, the family held a Zoom call with some of the group members. One of them, an American army officer, asked to speak. “He told us that Orr had changed his life. You could hear the emotion in his voice,” says Roni. “He said Orr had taught him about sports, history, the military—and most of all, about life itself. He told us he hoped his own soldiers would grow to be like Orr: not only brave on the battlefield, but wise, sensitive, knowledgeable, and willing to listen and teach others.”
On October 7, 2023, while sirens were sounding across Israel, Orr’s family—living in Pardes Hanna, one of the few areas that remained relatively quiet—was not awakened by alarms. Instead, Roni was woken by a different sound:
“That morning, around seven or seven-thirty, I woke up because I heard Orr handling his weapon,” she says. “Normally he only did that before leaving the house or after coming home, so I immediately knew something was wrong.” When she asked him, he answered simply: “There’s a war.”
Orr had a special bond with his company commander. As soon as the war broke out, he was called to report to his unit.
He sat at his computer, going through the lists of soldiers, making sure everyone had received their call-up orders. By about ten in the morning, Orr was picked up for company training—and just a few days later, he was among the first troops to enter Gaza. He remained there for eight months, until he was killed in the attack on the armored vehicle.
The company commander assigned Orr to the company headquarters, where he took on multiple responsibilities—including serving as a medic, despite never having formally trained for the role.
“After he fell, we asked some of the soldiers why Orr had been given so many duties,” Roni says. “One of them told me, ‘You don’t understand. He was holding the company together. Even now, we can’t divide all the tasks he handled. There’s no one else who can replace him.’”
Orr’s connection with his commander was so strong that he was often brought him along to meetings with senior officers. At the end of each meeting, the commander would turn to him and ask for his opinion. Drawing on his vast knowledge, Orr would offer strategic insights and perspectives that others had not considered.
Like many soldiers, Orr used his military-issue notebooks not just for operational notes, but also to scribble personal thoughts. Most of those notebooks were lost with him in the explosion. But one notebook from the early months of the war was found after his death. “On each page, he would write a heading, and underneath, just a few lines—concise, but incredibly powerful,” Roni says.
One of the pages was titled After the War, under which Orr had written several poignant lines.
One of Orr’s favorite bands was Eifo HaYeled (“Where’s the Child?”), a popular Israeli rock group. After his death, his family reached out to the band’s lead singer, Hemi Rodner, who adapted Orr’s words into lyrics and composed a song titled After the War. The song will be released this year for Israeli Memorial Day, accompanied by a video based on Orr’s own drawings.
After the war
We always talk, we laugh
About what we’ll do after the war
Get drunk…
Go to the beach, party
Like it’s just a regular vacationThat moment when you plan
To pull yourself together
To eat healthy
To truly push yourself
But really—what guarantees you’ll make it back?We returned to Gaza
Three days outside
Purple rain
I miss Dad’s hummus,
But really—I miss everything
A row of graves, my generation
I know them all
I don’t know how to live with it,
But I get byThat moment when you plan
To pull yourself together
To eat healthy
To truly push yourself
But really—what guarantees you’ll make it back?
During the Swords of Iron War, while Orr’s company was stationed in Gaza, they had no access to the internet or cellphones. For years, every spring, Orr and his father had woken up at dawn to watch the NBA playoffs together.
Determined to keep the tradition alive, even from afar, Orr’s father found a new way: He would wake up to watch the games, write down detailed, play-by-play summaries—including full statistics for each player—and send them to Orr as letters. Orr would read them eagerly, savoring every word.
Orr’s love of reading didn’t fade during his military service—if anything, it deepened. He spent the long hours inside the armored vehicle – an IDF Nemera – reading. Together with a few friends from his company, Orr established a small “library” inside the vehicle—bringing books from home and swapping them among the soldiers. In the long stretches they spent stuck inside the Nemera, surrounded by enemy forces, the soldiers found rare moments of comfort between the pages of their books.
Orr was the driving force behind the library. Not only did he read more than anyone else, he also made it his mission to grow and nurture it. Each time he returned home, his mother Roni recalls, he would stop at a bookstore—searching for new titles to bring back to the field for their improvised library. One of the vehicle’s drivers once brought a copy of the thriller Orphan X by author Gregg Hurwitz. Orr loved it so much that he quickly devoured the entire series.
To the Blumovitz Family,
When we were in Gaza, I brought this book with me, and Orr was so excited about it.
Afterward, I went and bought the whole series.
This is the first book in the series.
Blumo, I love you and I will never forget you.
On June 14, 2024, the armored vehicle Orr was traveling in was hit by an anti-tank guided missile.
All eight soldiers aboard were killed in the blast.
Alongside Orr, they included: Captain Waseem Mahmoud, Sergeant Itay Amar, Sergeant Eliyahu Moshe Tsimbalist, Staff Sergeant Oz Yeshaya Gruber, Staff Sergeant Stanislav Kosterov, Sergeant Yakir Ya’akov Levy and Sergeant Shalom Menachem.
After Orr’s death, a library was named in his honor at the school where his mother taught.
Several years earlier, Roni had helped establish the library together with a student she had mentored.
Orr visited the library only once during his lifetime.
On one of his last visits home, Roni took him there and asked what he thought.
He looked around and said simply: “Beautiful.”
“For Orr, who rarely used big words,” says Roni, “that was an enormous compliment.”
Orr fell surrounded by everything he loved—everything he had dedicated his life to: tanks, soldiers, friends—and books. And perhaps it was no coincidence that the boy who spent his life eagerly learning about the history of the world was found with the scorched remains of one of his favorite books: Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind.