The Ultimate Freedom

Over the last few months, the army has physically turned me into a soldier. But the most important difference between the IDF and all other armies in the world, is that the IDF is the most moral army in the world. This past week was all about educating us about our identities, why we are fighting, who we are fighting against, and what kind of moral issues we might have to deal with.
The best part of the week was definitely being off the base. This was the closest to freedom we would get in the army without going home. On Sunday I had a yom siddurim so I went to see my parents one last time until they fly back to Toronto. Then I joined my plugah in Ramot Shapira, a guest house in Beit Meir about 20 minutes from Jerusalem.
The first day, Monday, was about our, or their identities as Israelis and as Jews. We answered questions and discussed some issues like "Who is an Israeli?", which isn't as simple a question as it sounds. My favorite part of this day was hearing everyone's reasons for why they are in the army because I and the other lone soldiers have the strongest reasons. Yes, there is conscription, but it's so easy to get out of the army these days. Plus it's Tzanchanim so everyone here wants to give more.
We talked about our machlacka and how much we think we know about each other versus how much we actually know. I learned some extremely vital pieces of information about people this week.
One of the more heated discussions was that on Nohal Shachen. In Operation Cast Lead, two Givati soldiers were found guilty of using an Arab boy they found on the street to open a bag in which they suspected there was a bomb. It is illegal in the army now but hasn't always been. Very interesting dilemma. On one hand, we must protect our own soldiers. On the other hand, we are incredibly moral and don't ever put innocent civilians in danger.
Another hot topic was the disengagement. Not whether it should have happened or not. I think it was a total disaster. But if you were commanded to pull somebody out of their house, would you do it or not? Before we talked about it, my opinion was that I would never do it. I still would try my very hardest to get out of it, but the fact is that we are part of an army. If everyone has their own opinion about things and lets their emotions get involved, the army simply wouldn't function properly.
On Thursday we left the guest house and headed to Castel, a very strategic hill near Jerusalem that we conquered in 1948 and discussed what happened there. From there we went to Yad Vashem which is really the reason why we are doing what we are doing. Had you asked anyone in the Holocaust if they thought there would be a Jewish army within a few years, they would have called you crazy. But it is because of the Holocaust that we have a state and an army. Never again will it happen. Although it may not always seem like freedom, it is the ultimate freedom to be serving in the IDF.

And Basic Drags On

There are a lot of very frustrating things about the army. Let me give you an example. Last week was Shavuot and my machlakah is going to Chevron. However, because I'm not Israeli (yet), I am keeping 2 days of chag. So I didn't go with them. I was told a couple days before that I would likely be going home. But instead, it was decided to keep me here. I and a few other Americans did absolutely nothing on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and we went home on Friday for Shabbat. Does that make any sense at all? Not only that, but there was no minyan here for us the second day. We tried speaking to everybody about it but to no avail. Even some of the mefakdim agreed with us. Finally we got the reason: everyone else is staying, so you have to stay. That makes sense, but we aren't like everybody else. We need that second day. But no. That's not how the army works. So frustrating!!!
Now I'll try to sum up what I've been doing the last month or two because I have a bit of time. I don't remember the exact order of events but its something like this.
Luckily, after Shavua Sada'ut, or what I called hell week, we were able to rest a bit during our extended weekend. We were let out for Shabbat, Sunday we had a culture day, Monday was Yom Hazikaron, and Tuesday was Yom Haatzmaut. Yom Hazikaron is always a very solemn and special day, but never like this past one. It is the promise of Tzanchanim to send a current Tzanchan to stand at every single grave of any Tzanchan during the tekes. I personally stood at a grave and felt a deep connection to a fellow Tzanchan. It was also extremely important because this particular Tzanchan died in the 50s and I was the only person standing by his grave. That night, things take a total 180 and turn happy. Every year that Israel survives is a complete miracle and it can really be seen in the way we celebrate. My parents and I went to the center of town in Jerusalem where there were a bunch of different concerts, huge crowds of people and of course that string that the kids spray at everyone. We also walked over to Kikar Safra where there was folk dancing. Who knew that macho Israeli men enjoy folk dancing? And then of course, like all Israelis, during the daytime, we made a BBQ. Classic. Then sooner than it should have been we were back on the base. At least all we did was learn first aid. Mostly we listened to classes and practiced bandaging up our friends. After successfully completing the course, we now carry around an "Israeli Bandage" and a rubber rope type thing that stops blood flow to a limb.
Remember when I complained about cleaning and picking weeds? Well ever since the army started actually being like the army, these menial work weeks are actually kind of a relief. You either get put in the kitchen, on guard duty, or clean and stuff. The kitchen is pretty fun because even though I don't think its allowed, you often sneak some food. My friend and I even made ourselves some pasta.
The next week was a shetach (wilderness) week. But unlike sadaut, this was a much easier week. We took the same heavy bags but also our sleeping bags, which would at least provide a little comfort. Luckily, instead of carrying that ridiculous bag, I was the radio guy. Kind of funny that the non-Hebrew speaker is chosen but maybe that's a sign that my Hebrew has improved. This week was called Tzemed and it was the first time we would be using live ammunition outside a proper shooting range. Tzemed means pair and this week was all about learning how to conquer a hill with a partner. I can't say the exact movements, but we learned when to provide cover fire, when to run, what to say, when to throw a grenade, and finally when to make the last move the terrorists will ever see. In reality, two people, or even a whole class would never risk taking a hill, but we learned the basics then. In the future we will start conquering land with more people and with more of a variety of weapons.
Sometime after that week was the week where we did our masa for the Hashba'a or swearing in. It was 7+1 kilometers. The +1 means that that kilometer was done carrying a stretcher. After we finished, the staff lit a huge fire sign of my battalion. We were finally starting to feel a sense of belonging. Especially because we received tags with the Tzanchanim logo to put on our shoulders. On the day of the Hashba'a we had a culture day. This one was special because we retraced the steps of our heroes who fought gloriously through the narrow streets of Jerusalem. And of course it was the Tzanchanim who captured it. We walked through Sha'ar Arayot, the gate of the old city where they broke through the walls until we reached the Kotel where we would be sworn in. Before it began there was a light dinner for lone soldiers which was nice. And do you know the tunnel to the left of the Kotel? Well as we were getting in formation, like every year, each battalion started singing their cheers. But it definitely wasn't singing. It was absolutely deafening that tunnel. But the pride really showed. And of course competition between the battalions. At 8:00 pm sharp we started marching to the square. I saw the ceremony last year but it was totally different participating in it. You just get this feeling of pride that can't be found anywhere besides in Tzahal. Here you are about to embark on a journey that could lead you to fight for the lives of your people. It's a bit frightening but also inspiring. Of course the most exciting part of the ceremony was definitely receiving our Tanachs and guns. From then on, the guns were ours to take with us and protect everywhere we go. Then we swore in, sang Hatikva which still sends chills through my body, and that was it. By the way, thank you to all my friends who came to see it. Your support is appreciated beyond your understanding.
One of the next things we did was a week of shooting. Nothing too crazy but we became a lot more professional in that week. We shot a lot further and better and practiced shooting on moving targets. You might be asking how these targets move. Well at 200 meters there is a 4 meter deep reinforced concrete ditch that runs the width of the range. Half of us were in there with big targets moving back and forth or lifting up the targets. It was a lot of fun.
After that, another week of cleaning and stuff. Fine with me.
This past week was probably one of my favorite weeks but unfortunately it didn't end as quite as I had planned. Aside from our regular guns, most soldiers are given either a new gun or an additional weapon. There is a gun for sharpshooting, a gun with an attachment for shooting grenades, an anti-tank missile, a Matador missile, a light machine gun, and a heavy machine gun. I requested to be a sharpshooter and luckily it was given to me. So this past week I trained with an M4 with a Trijicon scope during the day and a Lior night vision scope at night. I've heard the Lior costs about $10 000 dollars and its believable because what it does is just the opposite. Shooting with the night scope makes you feel exactly like you are in a movie or playing a video game. Same thing with the day scope. So accurate and simple to use. We did a lot of shooting up to a distance of 300 meters, shooting on moving targets, shooting from uncomfortable positions, shooting after physical exertion and of course the famous static position. Each weapon has its own "thing". For example the machine gunners have to crawl with their guns to 300 meters. Sharpshooters have to stay in the kriyah position for over an hour. Kriyah is basically sitting on your heel while the knee of that leg is on the ground. The other leg is at a 90 degree angle facing the target with the foot flat on the ground. In the past we did it for 25 minutes but we knew this was going to take a lot longer. We had 5 bullets loaded and at any time they could say fire and we would have to shoot. So we always had to be in the sights. After about 10 minutes, my foot fell asleep. After 15, I couldn't feel it at all, although we were told that that was supposed to happen and be most comfortable. Its the weirdest feeling not being able to move a body part. After 30 minutes and 2 bullets, I thought it would help to adjust my position. BAD IDEA!!! OH THE PAIN!!! Seriously it killed. And we had another 40 minutes go. Great. When we finished the 5 bullets everyone let out a sigh. But the mefakdim had a little surprise for us. Instead of ending there, they told us to switch magazines. More time? No way. I was dying at this point. Everyone was. Luckily we only shot one bullet from the new magazine. Then we stood up. Or we tried to stand up. But one of my legs just didn't work for a few minutes. So odd.
When I said the week didn't go as planned, it means that in the end I had less hits than the people I was competing against and was not chosen to be a sharpshooter now. However, I am now a certified sharpshooter and will probably get the gun in the future.
There are so many details to fill in but these are the main events. I'll try to write some more in the next couple weeks as I spend 21 days on base, the longest ever for me so far.
3 weeks left of basic training and then my regila, a week break. Can't wait!!
Shabbat Shalom!

Hell week

After a lengthy five day break from the army, I can't say that I was dying to get back to the base. I love serving in the army but there is nothing like the freedom of being at home. But it came time to go back, nonetheless a day later than everyone else because I was told to keep eight days of Pesach.
The week that I came back to was called Abach, or a shortform for atomic, biological, and chemical warfare. It was mostly classes about what happens when wars get unconventional. But the main event of the week was actually putting our gasmasks to use. I had heard about this and seen pictures of it before, so I was half nervous and half excited. Just outside the gate of the base there was a large tent set up. Pumping into this tent was a certain type of gas and each of us were supposed to put on the mask and walk in. So I walked in and was kind of disoriented for a second because it was dark and murky. Then the mefaked inside told me to remove the mask and say my ID number. Its hard to describe the exact feeling but from about your second breath you feel like a vice has tightened about your neck and acid has been poured in your eyes. I managed to quickly say my number but after that I just had to run out because I couldn't breathe. And then after a few long minutes, the burn dies down and things are more or less back to normal.
That Shabbat, my Plugah was on base and my machlacka had kitchen duty. It wasn't so much fun washing dishes but we were allowed to take as much food as we wanted.
And then hell week. Some thought it would start on Saturday night, but preparations took until Sunday evening when we set out. The first difficult thing was what we had to take with us. Each soldier had a partner with whom he would share the load. Except all of our stuff was in one gigantic bag. All in all, with my vest and my gun, it weighed about 40kg (88lb). I weigh about 65kg (143lb). That's about 61% body weight. So you can start to see why this week has its name. People almost fell backwards when putting it on. I remember that after a few  minutes my arm started to lose blood flow.
The first leg of our trip was our walk of a few kilometers outside the base to a camp with tents. By the time we got there, my back felt moments away from snapping and I couldn't wait to put it down. We slept in tents of four that night, but we felt as if this was a bit too comfortable to be our first week in the wilderness even though we were sleeping in full gear. I'd be surprised if I didn't wake up 20 times that night. The next morning after davening and doing some other stuff, we got our first taste of combat meals. Except you can't really taste the food. Basically, we were given a box of food and two loaves of bread to eat for every meal. Okay. Not so bad. First problem: we are 15 people plus our mefaked and this food is meant for 12 people. Second problem: our mefaked gave us 12 minutes to eat. Okay. I can eat fast. But third problem: there always had to be 5 people in a circle lying down guarding us while we ate. So you can see why eating wasn't so simple.

Basically, this week was about showing us what the wilderness, or the shetach, is like. But they made it really hard. For all three days, we walked the hills in the area (not so small), with our vests and these bags. While we were walking as a kitah, we were walking in certain formations based on what we learned in classes. Usually during the noon hours  there was a heat wave and we stopped walking and had classes. Not a lot happened during the 3 days. Just a lot of walking, some crawling on thorns, carrying stretchers and people, and a few war-type games. The crawling on thorns was probably my least favorite part of the week, but its only meant to make us stronger. As Major Eliraz Peretz, a soldier killed in action in Gaza once said, "With the complex of thorns and plants that have entered my body, you can make a pile a meter by a meter. But these are not just thorns, these are the thorns of Eretz Yisrael." 


By the last evening, I had given up hope. I had no energy left in me and if I was given the opportunity to quit, the thought might have risen up. It is impossible to describe to someone who hasn't been through it what it was like. But that night was the contest. Based on everything we had learned and practiced that week, each kitah in the plugah would be tested in a series of "missions" to find the best kitah, who would then go home on Thursday night instead of Friday. This contest only lasted a couple of hours, but boy was it hard with those bags. I thought we did very well even though we did not win.

We got back to the plugah just after 3am on Thursday morning. Arriving back to base was like checking into a five-star hotel. It didn't feel real at all. And then it became all too real. Just as people were starting to start showering, our commanders burst into our rooms and starting yelling at us that we had a minute to get downstairs in a vest with a gasmask on, and a stretcher ready. I couldn't believe it. I've never been more surprised in my life. So we ran a bit with the stretcher but other than that didn't do much. Ultimately, this was just done to show us that "It ain't over till it's over."

And that was what I call Hell Week. We made it through. Barely.

I apologize that I am so behind in my posts. Lately the army has gotten more and more difficult which therefore makes me more and more tired and less likely to sit down and write. Hopefully it will get easier soon because frankly I am having a very difficult time making it through. More on that to come.