End of Imun Tzafon

The rain, the cold, the mud. It's now all a thing of the past. I find that in the army combat soldiers quickly forget all the exertion they've been through once they get some rest. And lately, we've gotten that rest. The past weeks weren't that difficult.

After our regilah, we returned to our base in the Golan for a few final weeks of winter training. Here are some of the things we did. The first week we got back was a week of misdarim, where we mostly work on our equipment and shoot a bit. The next week we did a joint exercise with tanks. This was very exciting as it was our first exercise in close combat with tanks. Before it began, I was able to get into one of the tanks and see what it was like inside. All I can say is thank G-d that I am not in tanks. This was the Merkava 2 and I couldn't believe how tiny it was. I was feeling clausterphobic within minutes, and they sometimes spend days inside. Suddenly walking kilometers with heavy bags isn't so bad! At least we get to breathe fresh air. In the past, tanks that worked with us only shot their machine guns. This time they shot their cannons, a mere 100 meters from us. Then we climbed a really tall and steep hill to finish the exercise. Because we were secondary in this week, meaning it was the tanks week to train and we were just there to help, it wasn't as exerting as our training usually is. We also worked a bit on urban warfare.

The next week was test week. Tzanchanim wanted to put all the plugot against each other to see who is best. It consisted of an exercise at night, a walk through the night, a short urban combat exercise in the morning and a few kilometers of walking with stretchers. Nothing too serious. We actually won in our category against the other Palchod plugot. We were informed of this at the Tzanchanim conference that happens every few years. They brought the entire brigade to a concert hall for some speeches and a great concert by Rami Kleinstein, a famous Israeli singer. The army magazine even dedicated an entire issue to the brigade which they handed out there.

Although we closed that Shabbat on base, everyone left on Sunday afternoon for the army vacation village in Ashkelon. Six of us though were stuck guarding for an extra day when Nachal decided at the last minute not to take over command for the base. Thanks a lot! Eventually we made it though and enjoyed a few relaxing days of sports, a pool, a run on the beach, and some serious relaxation. We were supposed to go home that Thursday early morning but in preparation for Land Day, we were kept on a different base for a night and left for home early afternoon on Friday. Thanks a bunch Arabs! Then instead of returning with everyone else late Sunday afternoon to Eliyakim for training before kav, I and three others reporting to a different base in the morning for a week of cleaning and kashering all the utensils for our gdud. It was hard work but it was kind of fun. We joined everyone else on Wednesday night and went home on Thursday afternoon for Pesach.

Release Date: June 1!!!!

Targad

Targad stands for Targil Gdud, or battalion exercise, which according to our unit is an opportunity to test us and our readiness for war. For us, it is the most dreaded week of the year. Allow me to describe it. After getting back to base on Sunday, we quickly got our equipment together for a check with the General of Tzanchanim. Some more preparations later and we went to sleep for a good 8 hours knowing that we wouldn't be sleeping that much the next few days. And boy were we right! We loaded buses early afternoon on Monday that drove us to the Jordan Valley. Once night fell we started walking with our heavy bags. And walking. And walking. And walking. It seemed to go on forever but as the sun came up we arrived at our destination: 30 kilometers from where we started! Then without resting we did an exercise. Guess what we did next? Walked of course! Another exercise during the day and night and some more walking during the night and we arrived to where we would be sleeping. Remember we had been awake more than 48 hours by now. We slept for about 5 hours and then waited for our next transport. This time instead of walking we used Black Hawks to fly up to the Golan Heights. Since we were the last to fly, the pilots landed us quite close to where we needed to be the next morning (the rest walked). It would have been nicer to walk. Here we were on top of a hill in the middle of the night in the winter without much warm clothing. It was freezing! I won't get into too many details, but two words explain it: body warmth. Before morning we walked not far to our next exercise, this time with the participation of tanks. I actually knew someone in one of the tanks. More walking and another exercise took us into the night, now Thursday night, and just a few kilometers separated us from our finish line. I would say in total we walked about 50-60 kilometers. Upon arriving on Friday morning there was a bit of a ceremony with the General and some food to eat. The Targad was extremely difficult, but we're already at the point where it doesn't bother us. We've been through it all and a few kilometers doesn't hurt too much. It's always worth the huge feeling of accomplishment at the end. Next, we took buses to the base and spent Shabbat there, most of the time sleeping. On Saturday night we ended our time as a Plugah and split up in two. My machlakah went to the Palchod and the rest went to Plugat Mivtzait. My new Plugah is made up of older guys as well so we will probably get all the work. We'll see. The next day, Sunday,  we cleaned the base, gave in our guns, and loaded buses home for a full week. I mostly rested but one day I went snowboarding on Mount Hermon. Now I'm heading back to base for my next week. Let's hope it's an easy one.

Warrior

Eleven months ago I donned my uniform for the very first time. It was a clean olive drab uniform with a green beret. Since then, through sweat, blood, and tears, I've added some things to the uniform. A unit tag, a gun, a beret corps pin, wings, a red beret and now finally a warrior pin. Although training was over when I got my red beret, we continued in our "maslul" until yesterday. Maslul is a path or a route, and once you are finished you get put in another plugah in the battalion with the older guys. Last night the tekes for finishing maslul took place at Beit Lid, the administrative base of Tzanchanim, and we got our warrior pins. This is the final tekes and the final addition to my uniform. It's sort of sad that this is the last tekes, but for me it also means I am nearing the end of my service. My discharge date is June 1 so the end is near.

The view of the Hermon from our base

Like I mentioned, we are now stationed in the cold north and spending a lot of time in the shetach. So far we have spent 2 weeks there but it didn't quite go as planned. The first time we went out it started raining hard so we went into the tents. But predictably, the tents had holes in them and let water in. People started to get really wet and cold until the staff decided to pack everything up and go sleep on a nearby base to regroup and sleep. The next days we slept there and went into the shetach to do our stuff. Luckily some days the weather was decent and it didn't rain. These two weeks weren't particularly hard but next week definitely will be. The first two were more chilled and next week will be operational. Between them though we had a sof maslul trip, which was more like an education week and at the end a tekes. Normally the trip is a fun week. In the past they have gone kayaking. For some reason this year was different. We mostly visited religious sites of other religions. One of the more interesting places was a Druze village where we visited the memorial of a high ranking Druze general who was killed. Amazingly enough, but also sadly for us, Druze enlist a higher percentage of young men into the army than Jews do, 80% versus 70%. I won't start ranting about politics, but it is the Haredim and the leftist secular Jews we have to thank for that low number.

Next week is the Targad. It will likely be the hardest week any of us have experienced so far in the army. We've heard the first thing we are going to do is walk 22km with our heavy bags. That's really scary! Usually we do about 10. 22 is just crazy. Somehow though we'll make it through like we always do.

Some of the lone soldiers

My Mem-Pay 

During the trip

How NOT to Jump Out of a Plane

A lot has happened since my last post. About two weeks ago we handed over responsibility of Shechem to our rivals Golani. From there we drove to our new base near the Syrian border in the Golan. It's a very new base, only 1-2 years old so the conditions are great: rooms for 6, new heaters, and clean. The heaters are very necessary as the temperature dips to around freezing, occasionally even bringing snow (The Israelis went crazy when they saw snow, some seeing it for the first time). Being Canadian, I thought the cold wouldn't bother me but it does. In addition to the cold there is the rain. Sometimes it rains for days. We are very close to Mount Hermon, but I've only seen it twice because of the heavy and constant fog.

So we arrived at our new base on a Wednesday night, settled in, and by Friday morning we were already heading home despite the snow. Instead of returning to the north on Sunday, we instead headed to jump school for a refresher on jump techniques. Why? Because for the first time in 15 years, the entire Tzanchanim Brigade would be jumping together. That's about 1200 paratroopers!! Not only was the size of the event remarkable, the whole exercise would be operational. I'll explain soon what that means. After a few hours of rolling in the sand, we slept through a four hour bus ride back to the north. The jump wasn't until Tuesday night, so on Monday all we did was prepare bags, which for jumping, aren't so simple. Well before sunrise on Tuesday morning we drove down to Nevatim Air Force Base where the Hercules planes were waiting for us. The general feeling amongst the troops was probably a mix of fear and annoyance of having to go through yet another jump. Most didn't even want to jump. I enjoy it though so I was looking forward. Because the exercise was operational, the jump would be at night with all of our equipment on us. Our vests we wore under our parachutes, but our guns and backpacks were tied up in a bag that hangs from the harness and straps to our leg (so that it doesn't fly up during the jump). Some people were carrying up to 60kg in their bags! The jumping order was such that we were in the 19/20 plane so we waited a while before getting our equipment on and being checked. Instead of being with my regular guys, I had been volunteered to jump with the medical team attached to the plugah in order to help them carry some of the equipment. I don't remember exactly what time the plane rolled up but it must have been close to 21:00. Shortly thereafter we were led into the plane where we were stuffed in like sardines. I was the second person to walk onto the plane on my side of the plane, so I would be the second last person to leave. The crew does a few procedures, and the plane takes off a few minutes later. As soon as we we had reached the jumping height of 400m or 1200 feet we all stood up and got ready for the checks. The whole process was extremely rushed as it was an operational jump and we would all be jumping at the same go. In fact, I don't think they even had us do our own checks (but they did theirs). After a couple minutes of standing the weight of the bag was starting to get burdensome and I was dying to just jump. As the plane neared the drop zone, the doors were opened and the red light went on. Then green. Kfotz! Kfotz! 24 people after that it was me. I quickly hopped to the door after the guy in front of me and jumped. 21! 22! Ouch! 23! And it was open. The descent went well and so did the landing. But my eye hurt a little bit once I landed. I put my hand to it and felt a little blood. What I think happened was that I didn't put my head down on the exit, and during a little accidental spin, the parachute opened in my face and the strap caught some of my eyebrow. In the end it wasn't anything more than a cut and a bruise, but because it was nighttime and I didn't have a mirror,   I had no idea what it looked like. So if you ever find yourself jumping out of a plane, keep your head down! Again, because it was operational, the gathering point was not lit up. Well it was, but only to people who have night vision. I do not have so I had to find people on the ground who did have and walk back with them to that point. I found someone from my medical team and together we walked for hours back to the point through sand dunes. The two parachutes together weigh 20kg, the backpack 30kg, and all the other stuff like vest and gun add up to a total of probably close to my weight. That trip from the landing to the meeting point... I just wanted to die. But eventually we made it. Just in time for the next hike, which lasted through the night! (Again on sand dunes). The next day we rested nearby ready to set up a sort of field hospital while the rest of the brigade did exercises. A few hours later we were back on our feet and except for a stop for dinner, walked through the night towards our final destination. We arrived at an Arab town about an hour before dawn. This is not a real Arab village though. It is only a replica. But it feels eerily real. Even the mosques project prayers. When we got there, we were some of the last to come, so there was major gunfire coming from inside the village. Once the sun came up we headed in and set up a hospital in a captured building and started accepting wounded. This went on for 4-5 hours as the village is quite large. Eventually though it did end and the whole brigade gathered for a little ceremony and a well-deserved proper meal. Then came the real reward: a 5 hour bus ride. It may seem odd, but if you're not a combat soldier you won't understand. Rarely do we just get to sit and sleep. We did stop on the way though and while my friend and I were buying food, the most unusual thing happened. As we were in line to buy our food, still dirty and sweaty from the Tarchat, the man in front of us suddenly grabs the food, swipes it with his purchases and buys it. We had no idea what to say. He did it so quickly that we couldn't even protest.  Thank you whoever you are!

Kav

I must admit that coming back to the army after a month of vacation was most definitely not easy. Everyone serving in the army would kill to get a month off. (By the way, I've heard that if you do kill, you get a week off to recover.) I don't regret going home at all, but imagine going from total freedom back to a very controlled environment of the army. It takes some getting used to.
That being said, what I was used to before I left was training, where every second is controlled by your commanders. No free time. Kav is different though. Very different. It literally means "line", probably referring to the borders. We are situated in the west bank, right next to a big bustling Arab city, Shechem or Nablus in english. It's population is about 125 000 people. We are on a base with some other units, but mostly we, 202, are responsible for protecting the Jewish citizens who live in the surrounding towns. For example, the town of Itamar where the Fogel family was murdered is in our jurisdiction. There are a lot of rock throwing incidents on the roads in the area as well. We also have a few checkpoints to manage. So far I haven't had much experience with any of the patrols or checkpoints because I've only been here for a week. Although I must say, because of the nature of some of the missions, I won't be able to disclose details.
As opposed to the training base where we had literally no free time, here we have plenty. If you're not guarding or cleaning, you're resting until the commander tells you that something is going on. Whereas on my old base I would not have dreamed of reading books, now I have had time to read Steve Jobs' biography. We don't get that much more sleep, usually about 6-7 hours, but you rest during the day, so you don't need that much sleep. Instead of following the commanders to meals and waiting forever in line, here we just go on our own. Basically we are treated a lot more like adults now, and it makes such a big difference to the morale of the soldiers. Our schedule for days in and out is most of the time 11 in, 3 out, and one time doing 17/4. When I flew back I came back right at the beginning of my kitah's 17, so next week we will get out on Thursday and come back on Monday morning. I remember when we did 19 days of training and 2 out. It was hell. Here it's fun. (But I'm still looking forward to the weekend, of course).
The conditions on this base are quite bad compared to my training base. Currently, there are only two rooms for three kitot, because there is usually one away at any one time. So at times it gets very cramped. It is absolutely freezing here at night so there is a heater. The bathrooms and showers are trailers but there is always hot water available. Whereas on our old base we were only allowed to eat at certain times, here we are free to eat as we wish. The same goes for cellphones. They are now always on us.
Most of the guarding I have been doing has been on base, which takes place usually in a tower by the fence or at the front gate. Lately though I have guarded on the main  highway that runs north-south through the west bank. Usually guarding means staring at some hills and Arab villages. You'd be lucky if you were entertained by an animal walking through a field. On the highway though, you're watching over citizens at a hitchhiking spot or stopping Arab vehicles from driving near the Jewish towns. It's a lot more personal. The first time I guarded there I didn't take my eyes off the hitchhikers for the whole two hours in total fear that something would happen. I still don't fully understand how people are able to live around here or wait by the side of the road while mostly Arab cars pass them. Aren't they scared? So far nothing has happened. Occasionally an Arab will walk around and we will tell them to get in a taxi as it is forbidden for them to walk around in that area. At first I was nervous to deal with them, thinking they would be used to dealing with soldiers. But after some time I realized that they know very well who is in charge and obey our commands. Only about two or three times did I get yelled at by passerby. In all cases, they were school buses full of kids. It goes to show you what they're teaching in their schools. I like to try to get a feel for who they are, so I often stare into the cars as they drive by. Almost all of the people stare back with pure hatred in their eyes, which is sometimes all you can see.
It's not always boring though. In the last month we have caught a bunch of people. In the more serious cases they were caught trying to transport pipe bombs and Molotov cocktails from Shechem into our territory.  Luckily the IDF's intelligence branch is second to none and knows everything.
After 19 days on base, we got a much needed 4 day rest. Most of it I spent with a guy from my kitah who lives in Jerusalem. But the best part was when we got together as a kitah and made ourselves a BBQ and relaxed in a hot tub. We have obviously become extremely close friends but our bond is deeper than that. It's not something that happens often outside the army. It's about knowing that the soldiers with you have responsibility for your life and you for theirs. And if we don't work or just get along well in easy times, we have no chance of working well when we really need to. We are like a family now, especially for me, being a chayal boded.
While I was away in Toronto  our commanders were changed. My personal mefaked stayed with us but the two other ones are new. And they are amazing guys. Now commanders are much closer to us and these two are more chilled because they weren't with us during training. My mem mem is also new. He was in Maglan, a hard core special forces unit that nobody knows anything about. But he is also fairly chilled. Though he raised the fitness level quite a bit. Last week we ran 10km.
Occasionally we go on walking  patrols in the surrounding  Arab villages. More or less, we are just reminding them who runs the show. Usually nothing happens but sometimes flash-bang grenades are thrown.
On Shabbat Chanukah I volunteered to go to Itamar to guard there. But when we arrived, it was definitely not Itamar. They dropped us off in the middle of a group of  houses on some hill in the middle of nowhere. We were led to a couple of trailers where we would be living and told when and what to guard. It looked like it was going to be extremely relaxed. A few hours later we got the bad news. We were being split up and half would be sent to another settlement, including me. We ended up doing 4on/8off except for Shabbat where they sent us another guy. The weather there is very windy and cold during the day.At night, the cold is almost unbearable because of the wind. Plus, it rained a lot of the time. Needless to say, at times it was very uncomfortable. Luckily there was a Chabad there so we ate with them for the meals. As much as the guarding hours were annoying, the time in between was a pleasure. We cooked up a storm and did as we pleased (there wasn't a commander with us). After a few days there we were switched by other people and came back to the base.
That's more or less what goes on on kav. Guarding and more guarding. In a week and a half we will be moving up north to the Golan for 3 months of training. It is known to be extremely difficult. On the bright side though, I only have about 4 months left in the army!

A Red Beret At Last

Every lone soldier in Tzahal is entitled to take a month break once a year. The first of these trips is paid for by a sponsor who donated money to the FIDF. So for that reason, I am writing this post from my hometown of Toronto where I am spending the month with my family and friends. <br></p>
<p>Two months ago, not only was I excited about going home, but things on our training base were winding down. We started to give back the equipment that belonged to the base and clean our plugah building so it would be spotless for the November draft. Everyone who had not yet completed the killer obstacle course, including me, was given another chance, which this time was successful. Because of the holiday of Sukkot, we didn't spend much time on base in the final weeks of our training. We also spent about a day and a half on another base to learn about some of the types of missions we would be doing after training. It wasn't  really that useful. All of that stuff could have been done on our own base. I imagine a lot of it will be on-the-job training. <br></p>
<p>Where do you go after training? As you know, I have been a part of the 202nd Airborne Battalion. But until you finish the training, you're not 100% part of the battalion. A few weeks before the final masa, some people traded their guns from the base for the guns owned by 202. Guys who had regular guns didn't trade. Only sharpshooters, grenade launchers, and machine gunners traded. I had a regular M-16 and expected to hold onto my gun until the switch later. But then something totally unexpected happened. Remember the sharpshooter training, where two guys in my kitah got the job and I didn't? Well now it was their turn to be disappointed because I became the one and only sharpshooter in the kitah, until at least, some more guns come in. My commander even told me that I had had excellent shooting results in that week of training. This whole thing was a nice surprise not only because I enjoy being a sharpshooter, but because it allows me to walk around with a really cool gun. I know it sounds a bit barbaric, but in the IDF soldiers show off by having enhanced parts and accessories on their guns. In army slang, that's called wassach.<br></p>
<p>Now that we had finished everything we had to do in training, it was time for the most dreaded but also the most rewarding event of all: the masa kumta. This would be our last march. I remember at the very beginning of basic training we had our first masa of 4km. Man was it hard!! 45 minutes long!! Compare that to the masa kumta which is 15 hours long. Sure, the pace is lowered, but not by much. We set out from our base in buses towards the Beit Shemesh area. I'm not exactly sure where we started from but it was in that area. Our destination? Ammunition Hill in Jerusalem. In a car, that route is about 35 kilometers. Our masa was 60 so we took a major detour. The terrain of the route was very hilly, either on a road, a walking trail, or rocky hiking trails. Jerusalem is built on a mountain of sorts so their were a lot of ascents. We usually took breaks every hour for 10 minutes but we were forbidden from sitting. If we did, there was a chance our muscles would seize up. Not long into the hike my right achilles tendon started to hurt. It felt like my boot was digging into it every step I took. I tried to push through the pain for a few hours, but there was no way I could continue like this for 10 more hours! I took my boot off and tied an extra sock I brought around it to separate the boot from my foot. It didn't totally ease the pain, but it would get me through the masa. Because I was now limping, I guess I favored my left foot and sprained it. It still hurts to walk on it.</p>
<p>Everyone took lots of snacks to help pass the time but it was mostly pretty boring. They also put out meals for us to eat along the way. At least we weren't on the base. After about 10 hours of walking and limping we caught a glimpse of the lights of Jerusalem. I couldn't believe it! There were still another few hours of walking, but it was within reach. We were almost there. Just as the sun was peeking from the horizon, we opened the stretchers and loaded them up with the water packs we carry. We are used to carrying people on them, so this was quite easy in comparison. The sun was coming up and it was starting to warm up. We were freezing so that helped. Finally we reached the city and got a few minutes to rest. But it wasn't over yet. Everyone who had done this masa gathered and we walked (or limped) another kilometer or two through the city to Ammunition Hill. This was the best part of the whole march. Most of the cars that passed us honked in support. As we neared the finish line, a lot of parents were there waiting for their sons, including mine. It was such a relief to see them and I'm sure they were even more relieved to see that I had survived.
<p>Soon after arriving, our company commander gave us a speech telling us how proud he was. Then we did some extremely important stretches and put our vests on a truck heading to our new base. The rest of the day we got off so we davened and caught some shut-eye. But there was much more important stuff happening in Israel that day. Gilad Schalit was freed!! There was a point where he was still in Egypt and even with the pictures, it was so hard for me to believe that this day had come. I am often asked as a soldier what I think of the trade, but like most Israeli citizens and Jews, I am split. Obviously though I am thrilled that we have him back. We'll easily catch the terrorists they freed.

A few hours later the tekes started. We were obviously exhausted from the march so it wasn't very long, just 40 minutes. There were a couple speeches, a little music, we sang Hatikva and arrived at the main event: the distribution of the red berets. It's a hugely symbolic event when you trade your basic green beret for your unit's beret, especially when it is red. I'm pretty sure I saw our Mem - Pay( company commander)  shed a few tears as this went on. The whole tekes ended shortly thereafter.

You can find a video of the tekes in the video page of this blog.

In short, after the tekes I went back to our apartment with my family and cousins for a little dinner. Four days later, after Succot had ended, I went to pick up my plane tickets and to return all my army equipment to our new base in Shechem. After that, I packed a bag and within 24 hours I was on a plane heading home! I spent just over a month at home. I didn't do anything overly exciting but it was just amazing to see my family and friends after being in Israel for so long. The day before my flight home I received a frantic call from the airline telling me that my flight was cancelled. The next flight wouldn't be for another 5 days! So I got a bit of an extended break. Then I flew back to Israel and the next day I was on a new base in Shechem for kav.

War Week + Rosh Hashanah

Once again it has been a while since my last post. I'll try to summarize everything I've done since the jumps.

We jumped for the fifth and final time on a Sunday and in a very informal ceremony, we received our wings. From there we traveled to our base to get ready for War Week. Sounds kind of scary doesn't it? Well that's exactly how we all felt. We were really nervous. Instead of just a few weeks in the shetach, we were about to do 6 days, including Shabbat. Was this going to be Hell Week #2?

We spent Monday and Tuesday morning getting ready for the week ahead. Late afternoon on Tuesday we walked with all our gear to the area where we once flew in Black Hawks. That is how this week started as well. Once it was dark and it was our turn to fly, about 15 of us were led to a landing spot and within a few minutes, a Black Hawk touched down in a storm of dust in front of us. We ran towards it, jumped in and it took off. We only flew for about 5 minutes and then landed somewhere nobody recognized. Because this was war week, a war simulation, we just landed deep in enemy territory and had to meet up with the other groups and get out of the area before the enemy fires artillery to the place where the helicopter was spotted. If I remember correctly, we walked all night, about 10km to the place where we would do our exercise in the morning. We arrived at the place before first light, so we lay down in "ambush", which when you haven't slept all night, means resting your helmet on your gun and nodding off.  Not long after though we woke up, davened and did an exercise as a plugah. When we finished that, we walked about 2km to a shady area to sleep for the day. That is basically what we repeated for the next few days. Walk about 10km. Do a plugah exercise. Sleep, or attempt to fall asleep during the hot part of the day. Do a plugah exercise before dark and repeat it at night. And again and again. It was actually kind of boring, but the lack of sleep was starting to take a toll on us so we started counting down to Shabbat. On Thursday night we did an exercise alongside tanks, but they just shot their machine guns, not the cannons - a little disappointing. Once again we walked all night, but this time to capture the fake arab village from our rivals, the 890 battalion. Unfortunately we didn't use paintball, just empty rounds that make the noise of a bullet but don't shoot. It could have been very cool, but honestly it was a mess. There's no way of knowing who won.

Shabbat was like finding an oasis in the desert. After all, we had been walking for days and would finally be able to sleep like we needed to. This was also the first time we were allowed to take off our vests. Needless to say, all we did was daven, eat, and sleep, a lot. And then on Saturday night we walked to a "mission", where part of the plugah blocked a road and we were supposed to ambush the terrorists. What was supposed to happen was that we would come down from a hill on one side and another machlacka would come from the other side and we would complete the mission. However, they came too early and killed them before we got down. So it didn't go as planned. We walked through the night again but we knew that soon the week would end. On Sunday morning we did another exercise and then we were given time to sleep. But the most unlikely thing happened. It poured for about a half hour. So no sleep. Then helicopters picked us up and we flew back to the place where we started the week. Although the base was visible, it was just a tease. But it wouldn't be long till the week would finally end. After we landed we walked away from the landing spot and rested for a while. Then once it started getting dark we walked to the arab village and did an exercise till the early morning and walked towards the base. Would we be going back there today was the question on everyone's mind. We waited for the light in ambush. The guy beside me actually got stung twice by a scorpion as we were waiting but he's fine. After resting until about noon, we put on all our gear and put on gas masks. This was how we would walk back to the base. As we were walking, gas grenades were thrown at us, but because of the wind and the large spaces between soldiers it didn't affect us. Soon we took off the masks and opened stretchers for the final walk to the base. This time I was on the stretcher. It was only about 3 kilometers to the base but it was the heat of the day. The feeling back on base was one of accomplishment. We had survived war week!!

There was supposed to be a really big festive meal for everyone, but we were called to Chevron to strengthen the area in light of the recent events surrounding the Palestinian state. That weekend was Rosh Hashanah- Wednesday night, Thursday, Friday, and Shabbat. We were disappointed that we weren't going home but we would be protecting small Jewish towns. You sort of walk around a bit, daven at the shul, but you eat the meals at their homes. We were on our way to a town but then the driver turned off the highway near the town and pulled into a base, the same base we were at for Shavuot. We were 5 people and 2 places to guard. In the end, a miluimnik (reserve soldier) helped us out and we guarded 3 on 6 off for those 3 days. Not the most fun. Davening was sometimes done individually as there was hardly a minyan on base and the food really sucked. Instead of hearing Unetaneh Tokef, I was hearing Allah a-u-akbar But often when things are looking pretty down, there is light at the end of the tunnel. For me, that light was a Day of Fun for chayalim bodedim.

As a general rule, when you are told the night before to wake up and stand for the commanders on the dress uniform, you know it's going to be a good day. This time though, we were told to wake up in civilian clothing. Almost unheard of in the army. We boarded buses while the sun was still just below the horizon and drove off to Dor Beach which is in the north. My expectations were high, but I had no idea just how incredible a day the FIDF (Friends of the IDF) had planned for us. This wasn't just a day at the beach. There was tons of great food being served all day. They gave out lots of little gifts like towels and bags. There were massages being given throughout the day. Koby Peretz, a famous Israeli singer gave us a memorable concert. This event was so amazing that even Miss Israel was there for the day. We could use this more often!! Thanks FIDF!!

As training was coming to an end, we had only two masaot left. The one to prepare you for the masa kumta and the masa kumta itself. The preparation one started at about 7pm and once again we did it on the base, which, if the walking doesn't kill you, the boredom will. The pace wasn't too fast and everything up to about 20-25 kilometers felt pretty normal. But after that, your feet just start to sting and there is nothing you can do about it. You just have to continue. A number of times throughout the masa I fell asleep. No, not during the breaks. While walking. That's possible?!? Apparently it is. Even the commanders were sleepwalking. You nod off, walk a few steps, suddenly wake up and try to continue walking while awake. Then it repeats. One time I started sleepwalking and the whole group stopped for a break while I just crashed right into the guy in front of me. This masa was literally neverending. It just went on and on. After 10.5 hours and 48 kilometers, it came to an end. At least we got gun straps with our logo on it at the end. Despite the pain and the major chaffing (sorry), we went to sleep for the day and at about  sundown we got on buses and limped home.    

Just one more to go!! (which at the time of writing this, I've already done)

Kfotz!!!

I must begin by saying that it is impossible to properly describe the feeling of something like jumping from a plane but I'll do my best.
We gathered on the base at about 2 in the afternoon to prepare for our first jump. With just helmets in hand we walked to a building where all our parachutes are rigged. As a side point, one night we were taken to see how a parachute is folded. First of all, it takes about 30 minutes for some 18 year old girl I don't know to fold each parachute. They fold about 10 of these every day so I have no idea how they don't get bored and make mistakes. Watching a parachute being folded was probably the first time it sort of hit me that we were about to do what we were about to do. Its kind of like seeing your life being packed into a bag.
So we received our main chutes and reserves in a bag that carries both. Really heavy. Then we loaded buses to the air force base next door and unloaded right next to a runway of sorts. This is the same place that the Tzanchanim have always used to take off. In 1967, they were all geared up to be dropped into Egypt (I think) when they were told to take off their chutes and load buses. Destination? Jerusalem, where we captured the Kotel.
Although still hours before the plane was scheduled to take us, we set up all our gear according to the door we would be jumping from. After a break and a safety speech, we were told to strap in to our parachutes. Next we were all thoroughly checked and told to take off our helmets and sit down. It still didn't feel real to me. Until the plane rolled in. It sounded like a thunderstorm was coming in. Standard procedure is to wear earplugs next to it, important especially because it passes within meters from us. By now we are all standing on shaking legs watching as the rear ramp of the plane was lowered. Just as we had practiced, we shouted "Hey, Hop!!", turned towards the plane and waddled towards it (ever tried walking in a harness?) through the hot exhaust wind of the propellers . Our instructors then sat us down in zigzag formation, the ramp closed and the plane started to taxi.
After a few minutes we got to the runway and the plane revved its engines to lift off. According to paratrooper tradition, the plane will not take off unless everyone yells "Hey, Hop, Hey, Hop" continuously. We made it up. At 100 meters, which is the lowest possible height at which we could jump out, we raised the end of the yellow rope which was strapped to a wire that runs the length of the plane. Needless to say there was a lot of tension and anxiety in the plane. So first we said Tfilat Haderech L'tzanchan (I remember when I first saw it at the beginning of training and I thought it was a joke, but its not, and on the plane, believe me I've never prayed with more concentration), and then sang, including obviously the tzanchan song. A few minutes later, at 400 meters, the plane filled with fresh air and a howl as the side doors were open. If anybody wasn't shaking yet, they were now. As the plane neared the drop point the first cluster was told to stand and move towards the door. The red light turns on. Looking out of the plane, one can see the beach of the Mediterranean Sea. It should be only seconds now...GREEN!!! Kfotz!! Kfotz! Kfotz! The rest of us just feel the wire being pulled as the yellow rope opens the chute. The instructor looks outside to make sure nobody is left hanging out there (it once happened). Then the next group jumps. And then it's my group. We stand up and walk towards the door. I was the fourth last in my group. Red light....GREEN!! I look at the other door and see them shoving them out the door. After feeling a few tugs on the line from people leaving, I'm next. I toss my yellow rope down the wire, get into position at the door and next thing I know I'm outside in what feels like a tornado counting 21...22...23...and then all the confusion stops. I look up. The canopy opened normally. I think to myself, okay, what next? I'm forgetting some sort of check or something. Nope. I'm forgetting to enjoy. And then it hit me. Pure silence. Absolutely nothing. I imagine space is something like that. Soon after though it is broken by screams of joy by all. Everyone is just happy to be alive. I look around and see myself surrounded by a few parachutes in a long line of open canopies with a couple white reserve chutes opened. They say it takes about 40-50 seconds to reach the ground but I swear it took me 10 seconds until I had to identify my drifting direction. That happens at about 100 meters. I think I had a drift to my left or right, which makes for a simpler roll. At about 50 meters I start to hear people on the ground shouting "Raglayim tzmudot!!" which means legs together. At this point I start to feel the breathing pattern of the parachute. We don't fall at a constant speed. The parachute takes in air and fills up so you slow down, and then it lets out that air through the top hole which is when you fall faster. And over and over. The amount of force with which you hit the ground has a lot to do with when in the cycle you hit the ground. I brace for impact with legs together. Its hard to tell when exactly the ground will arrive so I wait and wait, and boom, I'm on the ground. After a few seconds of confusion I check that I'm uninjured. My parachute pulls me in the direction of the wind but I quickly get it under control and on the ground. Then the next feeling is hard to describe. The exhilaration has ended, but there is an ultimate high, and at the same time you're just feeling thankful that you're alive. Before folding up my parachute I take a few minutes to enjoy the moment and look up in wonder as the same plane drops the next cluster of tzanchanim. I ask myself: "I just did that? That's crazy!" But I loved every second of it. Except carrying the parachute to the collection point. Although once there everyone is hugging everyone, making sure that they are actually alive and not dreaming. Tension in the air is now replaced by a high.
Somehow though, the IDF always finds a way to spoil the fun things. Instead of bringing the bus to us, we had to walk about a kilometer with these heavy parachutes (and the next jumps with vest and gun) on our backs to where it was parked.
I asked a bunch of people if they remember jumping or being pushed and not one person including me could remember. I have no recollection of hearing the command "Kfotz with a hit on the back. "From the moment you're standing at the door until your parachute opens you seem to forget everything, your mind just goes blank. Despite that, the training was so good that you sort of turn into a robot paratrooper. Everything in the process is completely automatic. As soon as you leave the plane it's just you and your parachute, no instructor to help you, so we have to be absolute experts at jumping, and we are.
In addition to three day jumps, we also jumped twice at night. Wow. The view from the plane is just a bunch of lights and darkness. Only once you start falling do you start to see the ground and spot your landing. A bit more dangerous but nothing we can't handle.
Now that the jumps are over and I have my wings, I just dream about jumping again. It's such a great adrenaline rush and just an indescribable experience. If you're planning on joining the IDF, I recommend going to Tzanchanim just for the jumps. Its a great reward after a tough training. And who doesn't like walking the streets with a shiny pair of wings?

Video of the Big Pendulum

Watch "משאך" on YouTube

Video of Tower

Once you get over the fact that it looks exactly like a person being hanged, its pretty harmless. It looks more painful than it is.
Watch in HD for better quality.
Watch "מגדל קפיצה" on YouTube

I'll never fly with this company ever again!!

We had been given our main and reserve chutes already. We had loaded the buses and driven to the runway. We had already put on our gear and had it checked. And then we waited. Okay. Delayed an hour. So we waited. And then an announcement "We are sorry to inform you but the jump has been canceled. Yes, we are serious. Take off your parachutes." I couldn't believe it. Nobody could. We were so ready to do it. But it happens. Better to push off a jump than fly on a plane with technical difficulties.
There should be a jump tomorrow but they are not 100% sure. Either way, next week on Sunday we will make up this jump. The only downside is that when we leave the base this weekend, it won't be with wings.

Ape!!

Unless you've been through the IDF Airborne School you have no idea why the title of this post is ape. I will explain shortly.
Right now I am near an air force base in the center of Israel at the school for paratrooping. Once upon a time paratroopers actually used to fall into battle. 1956 was the only time we used that method but luckily for me the tradition of still training paratroopers continues. We arrived on this new base on Friday morning before going home for shabbat after absorption day. All we did was sign in and put our stuff in the tents before hearing a few speeches. Now where does the ape come in. So Israel learned its paratroop skills from some country in Europe and has adopted some of its traditions. One if them is that before any class or speech everyone lines up and when an instructor says "Ape", everyone straightens to attention. After three days of this it still cracks me up.
We got back to the base on Sunday morning where we met up with our cluster instructor. A cluster is basically a unit of paratroopers. When we train and jump we do it in these clusters. Ours is 13 people. The first thing we did was have a class on the main and reserve chutes we would be using. It's the classic circular parachute but what you will probably be surprised to find out is that it weighs about 14kg and only slows your fall to a speedy 6 meters per second. If you were to try to land without the method we are taught you would most likely get injured. Therefore we started our lessons in a giant sandbox doing rolls. The most important thing that must be done for a safe landing is to keep your feet together. Then depending on which direction the wind is taking you, you roll in that direction. First we just rolled from a standing position. Then we did it from a ramp about 3/4 of a meter from the ground. Next we took runs up the to the top of the ramp and jumped off. The technique for this roll seems simple but performing it perfectly takes a lot of practice. My cluster has told me that I roll the best, but some of them, well, they're lucky we do it on sand. Often we, including the person on the ground who just landed on their backside die of laughter at the mistakes.
The next exercise is the small pendulum. Basically you strap into a harness and jump about a meter where it catches you. Then you check your canopy and the instructor will tell you to fix a problem likes twists in the ropes. More severe problems like rips in the canvas or a candle, which is when the chute fails to open, cause you to open the reserve which is on your abs. By the way, the jumps are from 400 meters. If your chute opens, you have about a minute until you reach the ground. If it doesn't, it would only take about 12 seconds. The main canopy opens in 3, until you realize could take another 2. That leaves about 7 seconds to open the reserve. Not a lot of time. Luckily the last time someone got a candle was in the 90s, so the chances are extremely low.
There are also replicas of the plane we will be jumping from, the C-130 Hercules. Before and on them we rehearse the procedure of putting on the parachutes, loading, in air safety checks and finally the jumps. There is a hilarious method to walking on the plane from your seat to the door but it is only for our safety. The commands we call out also have a funny tune to them, which in my opinion are used to calm people down.
Another exercise we do is the tower. Its about 9 meters in height and replicates the jump and jolt of the chute opening. This is the jumping procedure: Both hands on the outside of the plane with feet in a staggered position ready to kick out. With the command "Kfotz!!" and a slap on the back, (which on the plane will turn into a push) you throw yourself out of the plane, put your feet together, head down, hands on the reserve and count 21, 22, 23 and the chute opens. Then you look up and check the canopy. After enjoying for a bit you get into the landing position: head down, arms on the helmet, hand grasping the straps, back and knees bent. And then once you hit the ground you roll. Now back to the tower. You jump and fall about 4 meters before the zipline catches you and you slide for 50 meters to a hill where you should already be in landing position. We also practice opening the reserve and releasing the chest bag. What's a chest bag? That's where we secure all our equipment, gun and vest for me. It's strapped to our harness and is dropped 4.5 meters after the chute opens. It's annoying but that's what's necessary to become a full fledged paratrooper.
Another simulator we use is the Omega. It is basically a low zipline where you zip, jump off and perform a roll. It replicates a fast forward wind so you fall pretty hard.
The last simulator we use is the big pendulum. It is the same thing as the small one but much taller and much more painful for two reasons. First because you fall farther and second because after swinging around for about half a minute a meter above the ground, the instructor pulls a lever and you come crashing to the sand, hopefully with the roll. I hate this thing. Every time I get up there I just imagine my instructor dropping me when I'm not ready and face-planting into the sand. I'm glad I'm finished with it.
And then there is the Eichmann. The instructors deny its existence but we have seen it. A while back they canceled it. I wonder why.
So that's what we did the first week of the course plus Sunday and part of Monday. Right now we are waiting till our first jump at about 4pm. It still hasn't fully hit me bit I imagine once we board the plane it will.
There are two videos of the tower and pendulum that I will post soon. Wish me luck and stay tuned!

Black Hawk Down (but back up)

This past Sunday (by now a few weeks ago) is a day I'll never forget. I knew we would be doing this sometime but I wasn't sure exactly when. Well it was time.
Each general infantry brigade (Tzanchanim, Givati, Kfir, Nachal, and Golani)  has two ways of getting into battle. Tzanchanim either walk in, hence the extremely long masaot we do, or we are flown in by helicopter. Now was the time where we practice on helicopters.
We walked out the base onto a huge field and waited for a few hours. Then finally three desert-camo painted helicopters land a few hundred meters from us. We were given a speech about it and told how to get on and off it. Ideally, loading is supposed to take 20 seconds and unloading 30, but we obviously took it a bit slower when we tried. We walked back to base for dinner and then at night went once again to this field for the exercise. After seeing other classes go up, it was our turn. We all crouched in a line near a light where the Black Hawk would land. A few more minutes passed and then we saw some lights in the air flying towards us. When it was a few meters off the ground, a huge storm of dirt flew up around it making the helicopter invisible and blinding all of us. After it died down though we ran towards the door and piled in just like we were taught. It's hard to describe what it's like to lift off in a helicopter.  I guess the closest comparison would be to a magic carpet. You don't really feel yourself being lifted up until you look outside and see how fast you've risen. By the way, it's REALLY loud inside. We flew for about 7 minutes and then landed somewhere far from the base. Luckily, a few minutes later a bus came to drive us back to base. I can probably say that that was the most fun I've had so far in the army.
Yesterday, we all were taught the very basics of how to shoot a MAG machine gun. This is a really big gun (it fires 7.62mm rounds) that is carried by one person in each machlacka. Unfortunately we only got five rounds to fire but it was fun for that half a second.
Since about a month ago, after the regila, we made the transition into advanced training. The new August draft has come to the base so now they are the babies. The relation between the soldiers and commanders is a bit different now because we call them by just their names. No need for mefaked. We also no longer salute to commanders in the plugah. In the future, we are supposed to be able to be friends with our commanders but not yet.
So what have we been doing the past month? Mostly we have been in the shetach, doing even more advanced exercises with an entire machlakah. We had a week of certifications, where, since I already have one, I worked in the kitchen most of the time. Last week we had a week called machlakah mitkadem plus nagmash. It was more or less like the other weeks in the shetach except for two things. The first was the nagmashim. A Nagmash is an APC or armored personnel carrier. The week before a few people took courses and became drivers, so we drove around a bit and practiced some drills. For example, these things can flip over pretty easily, so if it does, you sort of grab something and hang on for dear life. Two days later we had our first tarpal, or targil plugah. This time we were going to conquer a monster of a hill with an entire plugah!! That's about 100 people. It all started with a bang. They simulated breaching a wall with an explosive called Boogaloo or something like that. The ground shook underneath us. Then we ran through a smoke screen ( seriously, just like in the movies) towards the hill that was being thrown up in dust by the machine gunners from another hill. And then with thousands of bullets we captured the hill.
This past week was advanced shooting. I thought it was going to be really cool and advanced but it was more of just a reminder of how to shoot, and believe me, you get pretty rusty.
This past Friday we traveled to Tel Nof, an air force base. Yeah, you guessed it. It's time for Jump School!! We just dropped our stuff off, met our instructors, and left. The course isn't supposed to be overly hard, but it has some of the toughest discipline in any course in the army for obvious reasons. So in two weeks I should be walking around with silver wings on my uniform.
In other news, we only have two masaot left, 40km and then the final 50km masa kumta on Succot.

Regila!! And then 21

     In the army, every soldier is supposed to get a 5 day break about every 4 months. This break is called a regila. After finishing our 4 month basic training, we received our first regila which as it turned out, gave us a shabbat, the week, and the shabbat afterwards. A week sounds like too short a break and it is. But since that is the most we'll get, it is a precious week in which time must not be wasted. The first shabbat I spent with a guy in my kitah at his house in Beit Gamliel. After that I spent the next week in Jerusalem with a family friend but every day from Sunday to Thursday I managed to go to some body of water. On Sunday I met up randomly with a friend from my kitah and we drove to a natural spring just outside Jerusalem. The next two days I went to the beach with the lone soldiers from my plugah and a friend from Toronto. We had heard that the water was filled with jellyfish, but being the brave soldiers we are, we didn't let it stop us from going in. The next day two friends from my kitah invited me to go with them on a hike in the desert outside of Jerusalem. You'd think I'd be sick of walking in the desert, but this trail, every 15 minutes had a bigger and better spring. About a half hour into the hike you get to a place called Ein Tamar, an oasis, where they have built a pool for the water to fill up. It was pretty busy but it was still a ton of fun. On Thursday, my kitah had planned a barbeque at my friend's house in Beit Gamliel. Unfortunately, not the whole kitah was able to make it. But the best part was that someone there called up his cousins who live on that yishuv to ask them if we can use their pool. They said yes so we drove over and swam for a while in a beautiful pool. A great way to end a regila! Shabbat I spent at the same place in Jerusalem and prepared for my Sunday return to base. The fun was over but I'm ready to finish training already.
     Surprisingly, unlike most Sundays, everyone including myself was in a good mood and ready to go back to base. And this time we would be doing three weeks straight on base, known as "21". On top of that, all three weeks were in the shetach, as is most of advanced training. The first week was a step beyond Chulyah, namely Kitah, in which we learned how to work as a whole kitah. A few week ago, someone in Givati was shot accidentally in the back by his friend while doing this exact exercise. The shabbat after that we were sent to Chevron to guard. Normally the hours there are crazy, but luckily I was sent somewhere near Chevron where we slept a lot and guarded just 8 hours each the whole shabbat. We returned to the base late on Saturday night and the next two days we spent preparing for a competition between all the units. The events were shooting, fitness, and knowledge of the weapons and stuff. For some reason though, on the day of the contest I was told to put on my nice uniform and be ready to leave with a few other people from my machlakah. We knew we were going to Jerusalem but we had no idea why. First we stopped at the president's house but from there we were told to go to the Knesset, the main government building. We found out that we were going to sit in the audience of a ceremony to honor the fighters in the Warsaw Uprising. Before that though, we were taken on a tour of the Knesset. We sat in a conference room and watched a short movie about the place, saw some works of Mark Chagall, and walked around the new and old buildings. But the best part? Going into the main hall. Yeah, that place where all the arguing takes place. We didn't go down into where all the ministers sit, but we did sit on the balcony where important people sit. Laura Bush for example sat where we sat.  Unfortunately, they were not in session at the time, but if they were, anybody is allowed to sit and listen. As a side note, there is someone in my kitah who always feels the need to snack on something. Always. No matter what, where, and when. However, it is very against the rules. Get caught and you could stay in for shabbat. Nonetheless, he manages to always snack. So not surprisingly he brought jelly bellies into the main hall and carefully ate them. That's courage!!
The next week thing we did was something I had been looking forward to for a while: urban combat. We learned just the very basics of fighting in an urban environment but it was a ton of fun. While in most of the army, shooting live rounds into these buildings is forbidden, on our base there are special walls which allow us to shoot live. Hopefully next time we learn this kind of stuff we will use paintball.
Another shabbat in, this time with kitchen duty and guarding the base. We could have used more rest because the we knew the week ahead would not be easy. Instead of kitah, this was kitah mitkadem, or advanced kitah. And as opposed to being a more chilled couple of days on the shetach, this was going to be more war-like, something like hell week (see Hell Week post). It began with a masa of 5+5, but we were carrying all our stuff for the week. This is the start of our new type of masa. The masa to get the beret has always been 80km, but it has been changed to 40+10. Sounds a lot easier right? Well, not exactly. Each person will be loaded up with 40% of weight in relation to his weight. That makes the masa a lot harder in my opinion. And this past masa is starting to prove that. As usual after a masa we were all drenched in sweat and for risk of hypothermia, we all put on dry uniforms and went to sleep for a couple hours. The next day we did a kitah exercise, walked a lot, carried "wounded" on us and on stretchers. Again we slept during the day while it was too hot. That night was rumoured to be a layla lavan, or white night, where you go through the night without sleep. In the end we slept for an hour and did some more exercises in the night and day. By 11am we were on a bus heading back to the base. And then before we knew it we were home the next morning.

The End of the Beginning

Oh how I love the shetach. I love they thorns. Love sleeping in the heat of the day. Love carrying half my weight on my back.
Okay, so I hate the shetach. But this time actually wasn't so bad. This week was based on chulyot, or one third of a kitah, 4 people. It is made up of a variety of soldiers, for example, a mefaked chulyah, a sharpshooter, a negevist (the negev is the light machine gun), and a regular soldier. The last time we were in the shetach we conquered hills in pairs. That was just to get used to it. This was a step closer to the real thing. But, it was also much more complex and dangerous. Instead of 2 people it was four. Instead of regular M16s, some people had machine guns to spray the area in front of us. Instead of being careful not to shoot one of your friends in the back, you now have people on both your sides. In total we did the exercise 5 times, 3 times during the day and twice at night. During the day is pretty straight forward because you can see everything. The night is a different story. Forget about seeing the terrorists, just seeing your friends beside you can be problematic. Ideally, everyone would be given night vision, but that's way too expensive. The mefaked has night vision goggles, sharpshooters have a night vision scope, and thank G-d the machine gunner has a one eyed scope. The machine gunner in my opinion has the coolest one because he has a laser on his gun that only people with night vision can see. In fact he shoots better at night than during the day. The rest of us can't really see much. We do have a small red dot in our scopes, but if the targets didn't have sticklights on them, there is no way we would see them further than 5-7 meters away. So safety is number one. There is a saying in the army, "Safety rules are written in blood" and it's true. I actually had an interesting thing happen to me. As I was getting up and running forward to find my next cover, I slipped on some rocks and the barrel of my gun dug into the ground. When I got down, I looked at my barrel and saw that there was a rock stuck inside. I gave the gun a few hits but it didn't come out, so I stopped the exercise and the mefaked came and carefully took it out. Then we continued normally. After the exercise, the mefaked told us that a few years ago the same thing happened to his friend but he actually put his finger in front of the barrel. That finger is no longer with him. Enough said.
Our sleeping pattern this week was changed to more accurately simulate wartime. Most fighting in wars is done at night when you are least likely to be seen, so sleep takes place during the day. Now remember that we are in the desert. It's really not easy at all to sleep in that kind of heat even though there was a tent-like thing over us. We were given about 6 hours between 1 and 7 and an hour or two at 2am. It seems like a lot of time but with guarding and the heat it ends up being nothing.
Near our camp were soldiers from Chavat Hashomer, the base where problematic soldiers are put through basic training, who were using our shetach. There's a show on TV here about what happens there and it gets pretty intense. So while we were doing our night exercises, we were told that we had to stop everything until further notice. At first I thought, maybe somebody got injured G-d forbid. Nope. Apparently, two soldiers from Chavat Hashomer ran away from their mefakdim. Seriously? They decided to run away into the pitch black night in a live shooting area? It's kind of serious but I couldn't help but laugh at the stupidity.
We were supposed to have a masa of 14+3km a few weeks ago but with scheduling difficulities it was pushed off to this past week. And this masa was different. It would be led by our mefaked hasamal who is in charge of our discipline and let's just say he takes his job very, very seriously. It was also after minimum sleep and shetach food, except for the meal right before the masa. I was both nervous and excited. Excited for the beret pin that I would receive and that great accomplishment feeling after a masa and nervous because it was our mefaked hasamal. We saw the machalacka in front of us start of with a sprint and knew it was only a matter of minutes until we would start. Then we started walking fast until we hear our mefaked hasamal yelling about how he is waiting for this masa. Oh great. Then he shot a few empty bullets into the air and broke out into a sprint into darkness. Thank G-d the sprint only lasted about 30 seconds and then we slowed down to a standard masa pace which we walked to most of the time. Every once in a while though we ran. After an hour, as is army law, we had a fifteen minute break to drink and switch packs. And then again off into a sprint for the second leg. An hour later, during the break, we opened up the stretchers and put sandbags on them. That means we had completed 14km and had 3 left, right? Well, it never goes exactly like we think. We reached our plugah drenched in sweat and exhausted, and the mefaked hasamal yells "You think it ends here? It ain't over till I say its over!" So we walk around the base a little and reach the plugah once again. He pulls out a sticklight and bends it to make it light up, and says, " Just like I break this sticklight, I'm going to break you". And we continue again, but this time we go back out into the shetach! No! Not again! I had a feeling that we would go a few hundred meters and turn back which is exactly what we did. We got to the plugah, did some much needed stretches, and then recieved our beret pins.
The next day my machlacka went to the ranges to check that their guns were zeroed, but I went with another machlacka to do something I've been waiting to do since the beginning. Throw a grenade. The truth is I was half excited and half scared out of my mind. You're going to give me a live grenade to throw? Okay. After a few classes about a bunch of different grenades and a couple quizzes we left the base and walked to the grenade range. The range is basically a thick concrete structure and a large pit with a target in the middle.
Soon after we got there I was called up to throw. I went to get my live grenade, carefully put it in my vest and ran up to the range to meet the Mem mem . The first exercise was a simulation of a situation where I pull the pin and accidentally drop it into the concrete structure. 4.5 seconds. 21! 22! 23! Next thing I know this Mem Mem is lying on top of me outside the structure. 24! Putzatz! (Exploded, by the way, this has happened in the past, miraculously, no injuries) The next exercise was throwing a fake grenade with a string attached into the range. And then he told me to take out the real one. Really? But I've hardly practiced?! So I'm standing there and say to myself "Oh my G-d. I have a live grenade in my hand. I've got to get as far away from this thing as possible." And then he tells me to pull the pin. "Do what!?!?!?" So I pull it, reach back, look back, look forward and throw it into the pit. Then I quickly duck down but he pulls me up to watch the thing fall and roll. Seriously? 21! 22! 23! We duck. 24! Putzatz! Then we rise and I point my gun at the dead terrorist to confirm death. He told me that I threw it well so I definitely killed the target and all his terrorist friends.
That shabbat just my kitah went home because we stayed in the week before when everyone else went home for a chamshush which is when you go home on Thursday. It would have made sense to let us out on Thursday. But they didn't. Not only that, but they made us come back on Saturday night instead of Sunday. Totally illogical. Instead of going back to the base we went to a park in Ramat Gan to guard the spot where the Yom Sport for Tzanchanim would take place. The shifts were a few too many but between we were allowed to do most anything we wanted plus there was a concert at night. One of my shifts was filtering entrance into a parking lot, allowing only really high ranking officers in. Had this been Toronto for example, people in cars who would see a blockade in front of a parking lot with two soldiers standing in front of it would run for their lives. But this is Israel. "What do you mean I can't park here? I park here everyday!!?" We heard every reason in the world. It seemed like people thought they were the most important people on Earth. "No sir, entry is forbidden". " So who are you letting in?" Only high ranking generals." Usually that shut them up. It was just a really frustrating job especially with my imperfect Hebrew. It was a really important job but it was so hard to make people turn away. Luckily the other soldier with me was Israeli so he dealt with them better than I did. There is no doubt that chutzpah was essential in building this amazing country and still is necessary to keep developing it. But there is a line. This time I felt the vast majority were disrespectful of the situation.
Sunday night we got back to the base late and woke up early the next morning to work in the kitchen. You guessed it. Once again our plugah had shavua Hagnam, guarding and cleaning. No complaints from me though. Except that we were working through the week on less sleep than usual. People got pretty fed up by the end. But no need to be down. That week we finished basic training with a very generous barbecue. And on Friday we went home. For 9 days!!! This is our first regila, or 5 day break that is supposed to happen every 4 months. We also got the shabbat before and after off to make a total of 9 days out of the army!!! In my opinion, it is well earned.
One thing I forgot to mention is that my mefaked throughout basic left to another job with the battalion commander. Many people including myself were sorry to see him go. He was an amazing commander who taught me never to give up. It's going to be odd at first with the new commander but hopefully in the end it will be okay.

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.