Heartbreaking tribute: Remembering Fallen Soldier Moshe Shmuel Noll z”l
Moshe Shmuel Noll, a 21-year-old from Beit Shemesh, fell in northern Gaza after a life marked by extraordinary perseverance. From struggling to read to embodying joy and faith, his story, shared by his rabbis at his moving funeral, reveals the profound spirit behind the soldier’s sacrifice.
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Rabbi Aryeh Copperman wrote a beautiful tribute about fallen IDF soldier Moshe Shmuel Noll, who fell on Monday defending our homeland and our people:
“Today I attended the funeral of Moshe Shmuel Noll, may God avenge his blood. It was a deeply painful and sorrowful funeral. To see his elderly parents walking behind the coffin of their ‘mozhinik,’ to hear the heart-wrenching scream that tore through the silence —‘Moishi! Moishi!’ — not a single eye remained dry.
There were two eulogies that especially moved me.
The first was from his rabbi at the Kfar Zeitim Yeshiva. He described Moshe as a continuation of Rabbi Akiva in our generation. At first, it sounded like an exaggeration, of course — but then he began to tell his story, and even from the little he shared, your heart broke.
A boy with unimaginable learning difficulties, who did not know how to read or write until he arrived at yeshiva (!), and yet he never gave up. He made tremendous efforts to learn how to read.
The rabbi said that Moishi would come to his house every few weeks to borrow children’s books to practice reading — and he wasn’t ashamed of it.
He told a heartbreaking story:
One time, he asked Moishi how he prayed if he couldn’t read. Moishi answered that he prays the way his kindergarten teacher taught him — that’s what he knows, and that’s what he prays even now.
The rabbi asked if he wanted to learn how to pray, and Moishi was overjoyed at the idea. So each week they learned one section of the prayers together, starting with the Morning Blessings, and all that following week, Moishi would repeat it over and over until he memorized it.
They continued this for a full year, and by the end of the year, he could recite the full prayer service.
Despite all the challenges, the rabbi said, Moishi was always smiling and cheerful to everyone.
He once asked him: “How do you manage to be happy all the time?” Moishi answered: “I already struggle enough with my challenges — why should I add the difficulty of sadness on top of that?”
At the end, the rabbi told another amazing story. At the end of the school year, the students held a party at his house. After the party, they left, and the house was left messy. The rabbi sent a message expressing disappointment.
A few hours later — a knock on the door. It was Moishi.
“The moment I read your message, I left home in Beit Shemesh, took the bus, and here I am — to clean up and set things right.”
They cleaned together for over an hour. Then the rabbi offered that Moishi sleep at his house. But Moishi declined, saying he had forgotten his tefillin. So he left and took a series of buses —three hours back to Beit Shemesh in the middle of the night so that he could daven Shacharit properly.
The rabbi concluded: “You walked in the path of Rabbi Akiva in life — and even more so in your death, sanctifying God's Name.”
The second eulogy was from the rabbi of the Beit Shemesh community, Rabbi Kalman Shapira, the Piaseczno Rebbe.
He spoke beautifully and emotionally, quoting from Eish Kodesh, crying as he referred to “this holy mountain.”
He shared that Moishi’s mother asked for him to be buried on Mount Herzl specifically. He said she knows why she wanted that —because from there, all the holy ones will rise first in the resurrection of the dead.
He then described Moshe’s soul ascending to Heaven, the gates opening, hosts of angels escorting him to the entrance of Gan Eden, to the exalted place prepared for him.
And then, with a thunderous cry, he called out:
“Moishi, don’t go in! Don’t agree to enter Gan Eden! If you go in, you’ll forget us!
Please tell them you won’t go in until God answers your prayers and ours — that the redemption should finally come! Moishi, I knew you well — you’re a strong soul. Don’t go in!”
And the entire crowd burst into tears.
I left that funeral with heavy thoughts about this exceptional young man.
A boy who endured so much.
Who, in his life, was likely overlooked.
Who takes a 20-year-old boy seriously if he can’t read?
How tragic that only after his untimely death was his extraordinary story revealed. For me, this funeral delivered perhaps the most powerful ethical lesson I have ever heard.
May these words serve as a merit for the holy soul of Moshe Shmuel ben David Betzalel, may God avenge his blood.