Imun

"If there is a heaven, it would look like this.  If there is a hell, it would feel like this."

Thank you Adam for perhaps the most apt description of our lives deep in the Golan Heights during imun choref, winter training.  Our base is situated in the shadow of the highest point in the country, Mt. Hermon.  We are within shouting distance of the Lebanese and Syrian borders.  When the sun is shining and the clouds are appropriately someplace else, the view is incredible.  The other part of our time there--and by that I mean the other ninety-seven percent--the cloud cover is dense, the sky is dark, the wind howls and the temperature plummets.

Two weeks ago we did nothing but organize our equipment.  Five straight days and part of a sixth were dedicated to making sure our vests, kneepads, magazines, medical tourniquets, guns, helmets and everything else are combat-ready.  Although we are in training, Tzanchanim is technically on call in case there is an outbreak of hostilities in the Golan, aka in case there is war with Lebanon or Syria.  Consequently, we constantly need to have our equipment battle-ready.  But for it to take the entire week to organize is beyond me.  Welcome to the IDF.

We had a number of exercises that week: push-ups, abs, runs.  I also did a lot of meaningless, boring, mindless, depressing, degrading, annoying logistical work with the company's equipment, in the kitchen, or elsewhere.

It was not a fun week.  It was not an exciting week.  It was a physically easy week.  But emotionally and mentally a little more taxing then expected.  But such is life and times in the army.

This past week was a field week, a shavuah shetach.  We are doing the exact same drills we did during advanced training back in July.  It was shavuah kitah, squad week.

Unfortunately, very unfortunately, incredibly unfortunately, this week was not during the middle of the summer.  Instead of negotiating immense heat waves during the middle of the day with napping beneath a large tent, we have to contend with frigid temperatures, constant rain, grassy hills over saturated with immense amounts of rain, relentless wind, and fog so thick you cannot see more than one hundred feet in any direction.  (We are so high up, that the clouds are literally right above our heads.  It's quite cool to see them roll in, and with such incredible speeds, and be within its cover.)

We first went out to the field intending to sleep in tents.  That plan quickly failed as the rains came and didn't leave, turning the dirt into mud into a sinkhole.  We packed up our equipment and moved to a nearby base for the evening.  We were soaked; our equipment, our clothes, everything.  I had to switch uniforms and socks.  Everyone got the idea to put garbage bags in their shoes.  It wouldn't have kept our feet from being cold, but it would have kept them dry, which in many ways is more important.  For most of the week we were in the feet, I wore a thick pair of socks, garbage bag, and another thick pair on each foot.  Felt weird, but did what needed to be done.

Just like training at the Bach, the training base for most of my service, this week was designed to simulate attacking hills, as if we are in Syria.  One morning, the weather was clear and sunny.  My kitah hiked out to the location of the drill and we spread out in a line.  Now, after the Tarchat from a few weeks ago, many guys in my squad, company and platoon have been out with injuries, either real or imagined.  What this means is that we started with fifteen guys in my squad at the beginning of our service in March.  Those numbers whittled down to about ten after soldiers sustained random injuries that dropped them from being combat fighters, guys going to commanders' course, or falling to jobs.  And finally, after the Tarchat, and all the injuries that followed, we fielded five soldiers and one commander in the field this past week.

This one drill was the highlight of the week.  We crawled up a slight rise to get into an attacking position.  I had two magazines loaded into my M-4, ready to unload on the grassy dune that loomed 100 yards before us.  Supposedly it had a number of terrorists (paper targets) pockmarked on the dune.  We crossed the open field in spurts of thirty yard sprints, shooting while jumping back to the prone position.  When we reached the dune, we climbed and laid at the top, shooting at the targets and balloons at the next dune.  We climbed/slid down the first side, ran around its side and up the next, slipping because of the mud and loving every minute of it.  I finished a magazine and loaded another.  Then another.  I shot around seventy bullets for that one exercise.  Maybe a bit much, but more fun.  And the M-4 is a lot of fun to shoot.

Preparing for gun drills, with Matthew, Adam, and Shmaya

The rest of the time was spent sitting in a tent freezing, eating, having discussions, practicing traversing terrain in different formations, building firing positions, and other exercises.  We thankfully returned to base on Wednesday afternoon.

Thursday morning we wake up and have a run with the Magad, the battalion commander.  10 kilometers.  Not very thrilling but a good run at the end.  It was clear skies, sun was shining, and an incredible view of Mt. Hermon.

I came home to Tel Aviv for the weekend and returned to my apartment in Jerusalem last evening.  Then today I had a yom siddurim to take care of issues with my phone and apartment.  But also tonight is the Superbowl!  Giants verse Patriots.  1:30 AM Monday morning local time.

174 shekels for beer, 215 for snacks, 200 for pizza and $20 for the NFL.com Game Pass.  American lone soldiers getting time off from the Israeli military to share an American tradition together watching on a computer from my apartment in Jerusalem....