As sirens sound again across Israel amid escalating Iranian attacks, the country is confronting not only a new battlefield but old psychological wounds. In a stable in central Israel, Danny, is getting some healing.
On October 7, Danny (not his real name) said he was called up from home. Within days, he said, his unit was evacuating bodies from Kibbutz Kissufim under live fire. He spent six months in the war, moving between combat zones in Gaza and evacuating severely wounded soldiers. "We were shot at while evacuating the dead," he recalled. "I saw the wounded arrive in pieces. These are things I will never forget."
Since coming home, he says he is constantly on edge — sensitive to noise, tense, struggling to resume normal life. Once a week, he comes to work with a large dark horse named King. "There’s something that waits for me here," he said. "It’s the one day I can relax and leave the chaos behind. There’s something waiting for me here."
His story is one of many emerging from a country that is facing a mental-health crisis with many of its troops suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. A recent rescue mission in Lebanon in 1993 and died weeks later from his injuries. For years, she said, she felt she had never fully honored his memory. "When he was alive and serving in the army, he always said to me, ‘Do something and help the injured soldiers,’" she recalled. "So I put everything together and felt this was the right thing to do — to start a charity called Brothers of Jonathan and help people in the way I know best, which is with the horse."
Since launching in late 2023, the program has delivered more than a thousand therapy sessions and now operates with a growing waiting list. From the outset, Shkedi said her goal was not only treatment but prevention. "Right from the beginning, I was interested in prevention — if we can get to people early, maybe we can prevent symptoms of trauma from turning into chronic PTSD," she said. "We need to save this generation."
Many participants arrive in what she describes as "survival mode," stuck in cycles of fear, anxiety and hypervigilance. But she warns that another psychological wound is emerging alongside classic PTSD symptoms.
"There will be a high level of moral injury — shame and guilt — alongside fear, anxiety and depression," Shkedi said. "When that combines with PTSD, it is very shattering for a person."
In the stable, she says, something shifts.
"Traumatized people need a safe place. Sometimes home is not a safe place," she explained. "When they come to the horses, they attach easily. The environment becomes safe for them — and they start to feel safer inside."
The therapy is structured and trauma-informed. Participants learn first to regulate themselves alongside the horse and eventually to guide and care for the animal.
"We don’t get rid of trauma. Trauma has happened," Shkedi said. "Our job is to build resilience and post-traumatic growth — to help people move from co-regulation to self-regulation."
For some, she said, the bond has been lifesaving.
"We have had people who were struggling with suicidal thoughts. The fact that they can attach themselves to the horse has really helped them."
Looking ahead, Shkedi hopes to expand. "The dream is to have a place in Israel where people can come 24/7," she said. "A place that says: you are safe here."
As the war continues and more soldiers rotate home, she believes the psychological toll is only beginning to surface.
"We are not just here for people to ride a horse," she said. "We are here to help them move forward."