צנחנים, גדוד 202, פלוגה ב, מחלקה 3, כיתה ג

I have a new home: Tzanchanim, 202^nd Gdud/Battalion, 3^rd Machlekah/Platoon, 3^rd Kitah/Squad.  There are fourteen of us in my squad, and we will be together for the next seven months, or even after training.  This was my first complete, legitimate, and official week in Tzanchanim, and really in the IDF.  Finally, everything I do on a daily basis is workings toward a goal and a destination.  At Mikveh Alon (my previous base where I learned Hebrew), the daily routine really was a grind because I knew that what I was doing wasn’t necessarily furthering the IDF or Israel’s security.  Of course, I really have to have a pretty big head to think that the stuff I’m doing right now is making Israel safer, haha.  But the point is that I’m now with Israelis and everything feels much more real.

One of the first things we did this week was receive and learn about our guns: the M16 A1, short barrel rifle.  Compared to the long barreled ones we had at Mikveh, these short ones are a blessing.  We start shooting them tomorrow or Monday, too.  As we received our guns and learned how to take them apart and started practicing the different shooting positions, it really hit me that this is a completely normal thing.  Although I’ve always had an interest in weapons, I’ve never been around them in my life.  At Mikveh, we didn’t receive our guns until a few weeks in.  Here, we got them right away.  And that’s necessary for a soldier.  His gun is a vital component of who he is and what he does.  This quasi-realization was a little off-putting at first, but also gave me pleasure because it emphasized for me the reality of my position, a soldier.

Indeed, the commander of my battalion spoke to us one evening to introduce himself and say a few words about 202.  He said that they were heavily involved in Operation Cast Lead and was one of the best performing units in Gaza.  He said that victory is only complete when the enemy is dead or has run away.  By the end of my training, I will receive four things: a Tzanchanim beret, paratroopers’ wings, a fighter’s pin, and enough training to be a top soldier for the IDF.

Each night, 202 gathered in an auditorium to hear from a different officer in the battalion.  Another night was the commander in charge of discipline and conduct.  He spoke about all the requirements, restrictions and regulations about our uniforms; how to wear our pants, our beret, what color socks and shirts, etc.  It is all in Hebrew and very difficult to understand or keep up with.  I always sit with two of my friends, one who speaks perfect Hebrew.  He translates everything for us in the back of the room.  Oftentimes, commanders will see him whispering to us and hastily walk over to silence us.  But then my friend explains that he’s just translating.

I require a lot of translation.  But I can actually say ‘thank you’ to Mikveh Alon now: when we learned about the M16, I already knew a lot of its specifications, its history, how to dismantle, etc., because of Mikveh.  So I was a few steps ahead of the Israelis and even though I didn’t understand most of the Hebrew, I already what was being said.  But then, one day during a little lesson with just my squad, my commander told us a biography about a soldier from Tzanchanim who then became what is essentially the head of the IDF.  At the end of the lesson, I looked down at my notes and all I had written down were years that he mentioned.  Didn’t quite get the rest!

At the beginning of the week, it was difficult to gel with my Israeli squad mates.  While they do speak English, some better than others, why should they have to resort to speaking in a foreign tongue when I’m the one who’s here in Israel?  But this week got better as the days went by.  I’ll explain how.

Passover/Pesach is coming up in a few weeks and I heard about an opportunity for lone soldiers to have the sedar meal with Benny Gantz, the new head of the IDF.  I spoke with my MIshakit Tash (social worker for soldiers) about my interest in going.  Well, those who are going would leave Thursday morning this past week to go to a place in Tel Aviv for more information about the event.  After breakfast, I asked my Mefaked/commander if I should change into my Aleph uniform.  “You’re not going,” he replied.  What are you talking about, I’m not going?!  “The Mishakit Tash said you’re not going.”  Bull.  Let me get her on the phone.

I called her and essentially she said that because I had mentioned that I have friends in Israel, she took it to mean that I didn’t want to go to the sedar.  Oh, and this despite the fact that I clearly told her, on multiple occasions, in English and Hebrew, that I want to go to the sedar with the head of the IDF!  “I’ll call you back in an hour.”  I am still yet to hear from her.  Before dinner, my Mefaked came to me and said that I’m not going to the sedar and that’s that.  He said how he’ll try to get me in first at any future lone soldier event. 

That whole day I felt like crap.  I just had a terrible feeling when my commander said in the morning, “they left.”  I felt truly alone and wanted to get off base.  I was honestly looking to go to the sedar also for the informational session in Tel Aviv on Thursday; I could get off base early, dress in my Aleph uniform for the day, and get a decent night’s sleep at my cousin’s apartment.  But instead, I was at base.  But I was definitely bummed out.

But HaShem (God) and the universe have a way about balancing things out.  While I wasn’t able to leave, in the long run, Thursday turned out to be a great day because I really started to connect and gel with my Israeli mates.  For example, we were in our room with our commander, introducing ourselves and when it came my time to speak I said, in Hebrew, among other things: "I don't have a girlfriend, so tell your sisters that I'm available and give me their numbers."  They all laughed, probably in part because here I am, twenty-three years old, asking in broken and completely unpolished Hebrew, for the phone numbers of their sisters, who could easily be half my age.  I continued to talk about myself, where I'm from, how long I've been in the army, what I studied in college, etc.  And they asked me a lot of questions as well; I was talking for a good ten minutes, and it was fun.

And I'm certainly also starting to make an impression on my machlekah/platoon.  Just like at Mikveh, every Thursday the MemMem (platoon commander), Sammel (commander in charge of discipline), and the three Mefakeds sit us down and ask us about our week.  Well, before all the commanders were there, we were all sitting quietly with only one Mefaked watching us.  Someone joked with me about what I said earlier that day and the Mefaked caught me talking and, knowing that I don't speak much Hebrew, ordered me to the front of the room to make an example out of me.  "What were you saying?"  You want me to tell you what I said?  "Yes, tell everyone."  Ok....then I said my line about the soldiers' sisters.  At the end, the Mefaked had his head in his hands, shaking it and laughing hysterical.  The whole room really appreciated my one-upmanship, and my joke.  "Just sit."

Thursday was a roller coaster ride of emotions for me.  At the beginning, I was stoked to leave base.  Then I was really down in the dumps at being told I wasn't leaving.  I felt lost most of the afternoon, wondering why the Mishakit Tash blatantly failed to tell me that I wasn't going, and why no one could get in touch with her.  Then we went for a short jog, did some pushups and pull-ups, walked through the obstacle course that we will be required to do many times during training, and I started to feel a lot better.  Also, during meals, instead of silently eating my food, trying to understand snippets of my friends' conversations, the Israelis began to openly speak to me, in English, in Hebrew, and things looked a lot better.  Then at night, during our one hour break, is probably the best indicator of what the IDF is like.  For two straight weeks I had been asking for a haircut because I knew I needed one.  I had gone to the barber once a month, almost to the day, of my enlistment.  (It also turned out to be a good tracker for my service time!)  I knew the first week was a little bit of a crapshoot; we weren't in set units, and our commanders were just temporary.  But when I was placed in my new squad, I told my commander that I needed a haircut.  That was Monday.  Thursday evening we have our break and after the long day (in which we woke up at 4:40) I took a shower.  I get back into the room, with twenty minutes left before lights out, and another soldier is putting his Bet uniform back on and tells me that I need to do the same.  Evidently, it was at that time that I was to get a haircut.  You gotta be kidding me!  I had asked for two weeks and right after I shower on Thursday night before going home you tell me to get back into my dirty uniform for a haircut?  Thanks a lot.

This past week was easy, that's for sure.  But I know it's going to be hard.  B"H, I'm with a bunch of good guys.  That's what makes it or breaks it in the army.  It was funny also on Thursday when we were standing in three lines before lunch, waiting for the entire brigade to gather to be let into the cafeteria.  My Mefaked was writing down our birth dates.  I heard a lot of '91, '92, or '93.  "Flesch?" '87.  Made me smile.

Also big news for me this week.  Right now, I am sitting in Kibbut HaMa'apil, my new home!  No longer will I be living in Tel Aviv with David and Amy and the kids.  I am living on a kibbutz.  And this one is great.  They provide each lone soldier with his own apartment, completely furnished with a double bed, TV, table, huge closet, bathroom and mini kitchen and fridge.  There are about sixteen lone soldiers who currently live here.  Sam, a buddy of mine from Mikveh (who is also in Tzanchanim, but he passed the gibbush/tryout last week and is now in a sayeret/elite unit: Palsar/Reconnaisance!), has lived here for a few months and recommended it to me.  I put in a request with my Mishakit Tash at Mikveh and was finally told to come here this past Sunday for a visit.  Everything looked great and now here I am, in the clubhouse, writing this post.

I moved from Tel Aviv for a number of reasons.  I wanted to have my own place; whenever I came back on weekends, I would basically kick one of the girls out of her room and put all my stuff and sleep there for the weekend.  Now, I am able to lay out my things and let them be, waiting for me when I get back.  Also, I needed some privacy; living with David and Amy was great, absolutely amazing, but it's going to be really nice to come back to a quiet place and sleep on my own schedule, which is erratic to begin with.  No longer will I be awoken at 8am or earlier by the three-year old!

This kibbutz is really great.  But, as with most kibbutzim, it's hard to get to and from.  But I'll make it work.  Often I'll just want to come back on the weekend and veg (as in be a vegetable, chill, you get the idea).  Also, there is no contract with the kibbutz.  The army arranged it for me (but you can obviously put in a request for a certain place, as I did) and if I ever decide to not stay here anymore, then I just have to let the army and the kibbutz know, and I'm done then.  I'll definitely want to get back to a city later in my service, probably after my training.

And I know when my training ends!  They have the entire schedule of Tzanchanim posted on the walls of our buildings.  My masa kumpta (the final hike to conclude advanced training, where at the end of my 74km journey we receive our red berets) is October 10-11!  Just seven more months to go!

With being in a gdud/battalion comes certain responsibilities, such as shmirah/guard duty.  Next weekend I stay on base for this.  It's called "closing Shabbat," meaning we have a closed base through Shabbat and will be standing guard at certain designated points throughout the base, just like at Mikveh.  The gduds rotate when they do shmirah.  In two weekends it will be a different gdud and so on.  Check out the Tzanchanim website link on the right.  (Also, I put up a new link under the "Makes You Think Twice" about the Arab-Israeli conflict.  It's short and worth checking out.)

As a gift to myself for getting into Tzanchanim, I bought a G-Shock watch.  It's badass, as if you couldn't already tell from the picture.

Peace!