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

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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.
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