The Life Story of Gil Banks

SEEK DISCOMFORT

“I will conquer peaks and run to the ends of the earth, yet in the end, I will always return home.
in life, or beyond.”

Gil never sought the easy road. He rose to greatness in the face of hardship. When adversity struck – Gil radiated strength. A warrior of excellence, a champion of the IDF’s marksmanship competition, and above all, an unwavering brother-in-arms who was always there for his team.

This book offers a deeply personal and moving glimpse into the life of Gil Banks – through my own eyes. It is a story of friendship, courage, and inspiration, and above all, a testament to the man Gil was – and to the lessons each of us can carry from his life.

Gil Banks, son of Sheli and Steven, and beloved brother to Gabi, Lior, and Tali, was a great soul within a young body. Born in Scotland, he immigrated with his family to Israel in 2009 — a child filled with curiosity, courage, and sensitivity. To Gil, the world was possibility itself: a challenge to embrace, and a dream waiting to be made real.

In the ranks of the IDF’s elite Duvdevan Unit, Gil endured trials that only the few and the bravest could withstand. He was not born a warrior – he forged himself into one, through an unwavering choice each day to rise, persevere, and never yield. Even in the midst of battle, his heart remained open – to his comrades, to the fleeting moments of life, and to the humanity of those before him. His legacy is one of courage, resilience, and an enduring spirit that continues to inspire.

Even before his release from the army, Gil was already dreaming, planning, and building. He feared nothing, sought no permission, and dared to carve his own path. With eyes that sparkled and a smile that never faded, he touched the hearts of all who crossed his way. In him shone true warmth, unwavering friendship, and a humility beyond measure.

Today, we continue to tell his story, for the story of Gil will never end. It has simply become an inspiration, a way of life, and a compass for us all.

Highlights from the Book

Introduction

In the race of life, we charge forward – an endless sprint, always accelerating, never stopping. Yet sometimes, within the run itself, the heart whispers to pause for a moment. To look around. To understand what truly matters. And each time, I return to the same conclusion: true friends and family are the most precious treasures of all.
This book is my pause. My chance to stop and remember, to reflect, to feel, and to give thanks. To return to everything I experienced by your side, Gil, over the past six years.
“I will conquer peaks, I will run to the ends of the earth, but in the end, I will always return home. In life, or beyond.”
Dearest Gil, if only I could say thank you one more time. Thank you for the values you taught me. Thank you for the challenges you helped me overcome. Thank you for being a true friend – in the highs and in the lows. Thank you for the moments of euphoria and the rolling laughter we shared.
It is said that when someone passes on, their values and passions are carried within those closest to them. I dearly hope that is true, for you had so many. Gil, you were – and will always be – the greatest friend and the finest soul I have ever known. I continue to learn from you every single day. Thank you.

Continuing the path and moving on to the ‘dream unit’

After about half a year of basic training and advanced training, we reached the next stage: unit training. Three weeks in the Judean Desert, before beginning the specialized course. This stage was considered one of the toughest – a kind of basic training all over again, only many times harder.
During unit training, among other things, we slept in reconnaissance tents, woke up each morning to bone-chilling cold, had zero time for ourselves, and spent every hour of the day in missions, drills, crawls, and relentless exercises without pause. I arrived at this stage straight from the medics’ course, just moments before it began. Of course, no one was going to escape this ‘fun.’
If we thought regular basic training was going to be tough, unit training was a thousand times harder! In truth, each day we walked with our heads down, counting the minutes. Every drill felt like an eternity, and naturally, they took away our watches so that time itself would feel frozen. Only one of us was allowed a watch – and of course, it was Gil. He was chosen to be the team’s timekeeper. His job was to shout out to the entire team how much time remained to complete each mission…

“One more minute…” “Thirty more seconds…” “Five more seconds…” “Time!”
When Gil shouted “Time,” we had to drop everything the moment the mission ended and return to stand in formation. Naturally, every time we failed to meet the deadline, we were punished collectively – and so, when Gil forgot to call out the times, we were furious with him.
After a few punishments and disciplinary actions, Gil became a flawless timekeeper, reporting every passing minute of the day. The task left such a mark on him that for months after unit training, Gil would shout out times in his sleep in the middle of the night. We always laughed about it – though sometimes it was maddening to be jolted awake at 3 a.m. by someone shouting, “Twenty seconds left!”
In any case, the period of unit training was among the hardest of our lives. Everything that could go wrong, did – adding more and more difficulty to the ordeal. Naturally, it was the peak of winter, and every day we were drenched by heavy rains that soaked us to the bone. And just when one of us managed to dry off a little in the biting cold, someone up above made sure to send another downpour, adding yet more chill and wetness to the experience.

End of Service

Although we had become very close friends during our service, I still did not realize how deeply our lives would become intertwined. As his discharge approached, Gil began regularly bringing a laptop to base and immersing himself in the world of e-commerce. He had always dreamed of starting an online business, and he often spoke about how, before the army, he sold underwear on eBay and made quite a bit of money from it.
At that time, all of us talked about getting rich quickly and what each of us would do after the army. Gil, however, remained true to his dream. At every spare moment, he studied e-commerce, and his determination gave us all a sense of motivation. That’s how it is – the closer you get to the end of service, the more your mind drifts outward, thinking about the life waiting on the other side.
I remember entire nights when we waited before an operation, staring at Gil’s screen together. We searched for products that could easily be improved, or those with high demand but little supply (which meant people were likely not finding what they were looking for, and the market had space for new sellers). I was a young man, thirsty to build something of my own. I always saw myself as someone who would one day open his own business.

I stuck to Gil, and together we began exploring and learning about the subject.
Thus, in the final months of our service, every spare moment between training and operations was spent together – learning, sharing ideas, and imagining the day after. Each of us dreamed of launching a ‘private label’ on Amazon. In practice, this meant developing a product with your own branding, shipping it to Amazon’s warehouses in the United States, and selling it through their platform – with Amazon handling the traffic, logistics, and returns. It sounded simple, but it was anything but.

The End

It was not easy for me to write this book. To reveal my most intimate moments and my greatest failures. But I felt I owed it to everyone – to all those who supported us during that time, to all who believed in us, and above all, to Gil himself. I wrote this book so that Gil’s story would continue to live, even when memories begin to fade.
Though it is I who tell the story, countless conversations after the accident revealed how deeply Gil touched everyone. Each in their own way, with their own story. Through his journey, Gil gave me the motivation to embark on my own. At that time, we had even planned to meet in Argentina. But after Gil was killed, I canceled South America. I changed direction and set out to travel across Europe, and from there to the Far East.
I found much silence. Much time to think about our story. One day, in a remote country in Asia, the idea suddenly struck me: to write this book. And from then on, in every free hour, I would go to a café and write – pouring onto the page everything I had experienced with Gil. It simply helped me cope.

In time, I came to understand that I had to turn this into a book. This book may tell only 10% of my journey with Gil – but even that 10%, I believe, can bring inspiration and motivation to anyone who reads it.
Thank you, Gil. You were a true friend. You taught me, and everyone around you, some of life’s greatest lessons. I am proud to have had the privilege of knowing you. I promise that your values will remain with me, with your family, and with all your friends – for life.
Thank you, Gil Banks.

Family Photos

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Brotherhood of the Team

I first met Gil in the army, when I was assigned to the Duvdevan Unit. I regret not knowing him earlier, because from the moment I met him, my life changed. At first, I never imagined how quickly our bond would grow, or how deeply meaningful it would become for me. But over time, Gil became not only a good friend, but a true brother. Even today, with Gil no longer among us, I continue to draw strength from him. I hope that through reading this book, you too will feel his presence and take something from him into your own journey.
That’s how life is – you never know what a single moment might bring. Only when you look back does everything begin to connect. Although we were “one of the crew during our time in the army,” I hardly knew the Gil from before his enlistment. But here are a few things I did learn about him over time: before the army, Gil was already selling ‘Calvin Klein’ underwear on eBay and making quite a bit of money from it. He had found Chinese suppliers who sold cheaply, created a sales page on eBay at a higher price, and every time an order came in, he would simply purchase the product from the supplier and have it shipped directly to the customer.

A simple yet brilliant dropshipping method – especially for a 17-year-old. And he pulled it off like a pro. Through this, he discovered his passion for the world of e-commerce. That was where the spark was lit. He decided that one day he would build his own private brand online – and as you will see later, he fulfilled that dream.
Beyond that, Gil told me he loved going out to bars like ‘Cinema’ in Ma’agan Michael, joining trivia nights, and playing poker with his neighborhood friends in Kiryat-Sara. That was Gil – full of curiosity, energy, and creativity. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Beni, a fellow team member, recalling an edge operation with Gil

“One of my strongest memories with Gil was during an operation we took part in together. It was in Deheisheh, a refugee camp south of Bethlehem, considered at the time to be one of the hottest and most dangerous targets. The speed at which the terrorists identified the forces, the tall rooftops piled with stones and Molotov cocktails prepared in advance, and the lack of fear the militants had in confronting soldiers face to face created an environment where it was almost impossible to operate.
In that case, we had a battalion-level mission – the arrest of a terrorist cell that had carried out a shooting on the Tunnel Road in Gush Etzion. We entered the camp. Gil and I, part of one of the closure teams, stood at a triangular junction where long, narrow alleys converged. The operation was delayed, most likely because the target had already been apprehended, but the Shin Bet coordinator decided to continue on to another house within the perimeter we had secured in order to leave a warning letter and speak with the family of another wanted man.
In operations like these, time is of utmost importance. Every minute is critical.
We stood at the junction while they brought the wanted man, and about fifteen minutes passed, perhaps more.

Stones began to rain down – at first not too significant, but gradually it intensified. The crowded houses above us were tall, and it was nearly impossible to pinpoint exactly where the stones were coming from. According to the reports over the radio, things were still being delayed, so Banks and I rotated positions on the interesting vantage point that overlooked the top of the junction. We saw that not far from us more and more rioters were gathering, trying to hurl stones into our alley.
At a certain point, as the stone-throwing grew heavier, we realized our position was no longer secure. The arrest target had already been captured, and at that moment the Shin Bet officer was handling the process, so we discussed the possibility of relocating. Over the radio, we heard that other teams were also facing escalating danger in their areas. In the end, however, we remained at the junction.
I don’t recall if we spotted it at the same moment, or if it was me who shouted “Banks, watch out!” – but Gil reacted instantly. We both leapt from our spot, he backward and I forward, just as a ball of fire spun toward us from the rooftop opposite. It hit the ground and ignited into a flame a meter and a half high. “Beni, are you okay?” “Are you okay, Banks?” we immediately asked one another.
The Molotov cocktail had flown just above my head, landing exactly where Gil had been standing. We both managed to move just in time, and so it erupted on the ground before us. We knew something significant had just happened. I cannot say what would have been if we hadn’t moved, but that great flame is seared into my memory – and, I believe, into Gil’s as well. From time to time, when we met again, we would speak about it as part of reminiscing. Yet it stood apart, as a memory with a special place – the most dangerous moment of our service.

Sharel, a teammate, on a unit exercise in the north, “Where’s the bazra?!”

“I remember the end of our service. We were all counting the days backward, convinced that in just a moment we would be ‘out.’ And suddenly, without warning, we were told: there’s a big exercise up north. Within two days, we found ourselves – just a few days before discharge – carrying heavy packs at night, in the north, in the middle of summer, sweating under the scorching heat.
When you’re a fighter, you love the operations. But exercises, especially the ones thrown at you right before release, really get you down. We were walking in two columns, heavy and exhausted, when I saw Gil walking beside us, smiling as if we were on a picnic, saying: ‘So, Shkalim, where’s the bazra?!’ Shekels, who was the team sergeant, looked at me with a puzzled face, not understanding what Gil was talking about.
Then Gil again, this time louder, almost excited: ‘Where’s that damned bazra? I can’t wait to get there!’ Only after a few moments did it hit us. Gil hadn’t meant ‘bazra’ at all – he was talking about the ‘bitzaron,’ the spot at the end of the march where you stop and rest. We burst out laughing. For the rest of the march, Shekels and I couldn’t wipe the smile off our faces.

And Gil? He just kept walking, half to himself and half to us, mumbling: “Where’s the bazra… I just want to get to that bazra…”
A small moment of humor, right in the middle of great hardship. That was exactly Gil’s gift. He knew how to turn even the most frustrating moment – into a joke.

Beni, a teammate

“Beni recalls that after one of the operations, when everyone was already sprawled out on the couches, exhausted, he was looking for someone to help him carry something – in other words, a serious ‘kader’ while everyone else was asleep. Beni came to our lounge and saw only Gil. Gil looked at him and said, ‘Beni, please no, please don’t ask me.’
Gil knew that if Beni asked for help, no matter what, he would have to get up and help. No matter how tired or hungry he was, he would rise from the couch and go with him. And so, Beni took Gil out for yet another ‘kader.’”

Dotan, a teammate, on a midnight call-up

“Banks, who had been our timekeeper throughout the entire course, suddenly shouted with his unique accent. It was about three in the morning. A bit strange to be called up for a ‘Level 4 Krav Maga’ drill in the middle of the night, especially after we had already trained earlier that evening. But what could we do — a call-up is a call-up.
The whole team ran out, lined up outside the gym in combat formation, standing still, ready, braced for the hardship, waiting for the familiar sound of the gym door to open. We waited… and waited… Five minutes passed and nothing happened. The door didn’t open. No one dared to say a word because we weren’t allowed, and no one moved. We just kept waiting. That’s the discipline.
Ten minutes passed, fifteen, twenty… until finally someone brave enough asked: ‘Banks, who woke you up for the call-up?’ Gil replied: ‘Honestly… I don’t remember.’
We all burst out laughing, realizing that Banks had probably dreamed of a call-up and, still half-asleep, had woken the entire team. We returned to the barracks, and that night — at least for me — will forever remain a funny memory with Gil.”

Sharel, a teammate, from zero to one hundred

“I remember a time when we were waiting for an operation in one of the settlements in Samaria. We were fully geared up, on ‘one-minute readiness,’ waiting for the moment they would tell us to ‘go.’ During the wait, Gil sat with his laptop, searching for potential products he could develop after the army and sell on Amazon.
I remember how Saar and I sat next to him, throwing out ideas as if we were seasoned entrepreneurs. But the truth is, only Gil had the courage and the vision to take it seriously. He didn’t see it as just a game – for him, it was already the beginning of something big.
The goal was to identify a market with many ‘seekers,’ people eager to buy, but without enough sellers. In other words, products with high demand and low supply, waiting for a bold trader to provide the goods.
So there we were – dressed in combat gear, with a single laptop open between us, soldiers on duty, while Gil’s mind was already a step ahead. He knew exactly what he wanted to do the moment he was discharged, and he wasn’t waiting for an opportunity to appear. He planned, researched, and dreamed big.

We sat there searching for products until the moment we heard the word ‘go,’ and right then Gil closed the laptop and, without hesitation, rose to action. From zero to one hundred, in a matter of seconds. In his eyes, there was no contradiction between being a warrior and being an entrepreneur. It was all part of that same immense energy.״

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The Book

This book was written from my personal perspective, to share the way I came to know Gil, how I saw him over the years, and what I experienced by his side.
Woven into my personal story are also other voices friends who knew Gil in different situations, each bringing his own perspective: how he saw Gil, what he learned from him, and the mark Gil left on his life.
The purpose of this book is twofold: the first is to tell the story of how we met, a journey of deep friendship, shared growth, and unforgettable moments. The second is to show you what can be learned from Gil, about life, about relationships, about determination, and about simple joy. I believe that anyone who reads this book will be able to take something from the light Gil radiated onto those around him and weave it into their own everyday life.
Our journey began in 2015, when I enlisted and met Gil for the first time.
The journey ends in August 2022, seven years after our enlistment, on the cursed day when we were told that Gil had been killed. But the truth is that Gil never truly disappeared.
He continues to accompany us through the memories, the stories, and the lessons we learned from him. This is the book, and this is its purpose.

Thank you Gil.

You were a true friend.
You taught me, and everyone around you, great lessons for life.
I was not worthy to know you.
I promise that your friends will remember you, your family, and all your loved ones for the rest of their lives.