And the days go by...

Over halfway done with Mikveh Alon. The days are going by. This was, in a word, a fast week. I think that's mainly because I am used to the routine of each day. Oh, and of course because we learn Hebrew in a classroom as opposed to basic training activities. But in all seriousness, the daily grind isn't so much a grind anymore. The hardest part of each day is waking up. My "bed" sags and I feel the metal bar of the frame digging into my back as I lay in my sleeping bag. By time I wake up in the morning, my body aches and it often takes a while to loosen up. But we get dressed, brush up, shine our shoes, shave, report outside before the sun rises, and then clean our rooms.

Breakfast is always roughly around 7:30 in the morning. After that, often the morning is a crapshoot. For example, as I mentioned last week, one day the entire base gathered for observance of Tu Bishvat; another day we go straight to our classrooms to learn Hebrew; oftentimes we now gather as a machlekah to raise the flag and sing Hatikvah, the Israeli national anthem.

Our base is situated on a hill and it shares the area with supply depots for the army. One of these is an area lined with armored vehicles....at least we're almost positive they are armored vehicles but not certain because they're under tarps. One morning my machlekah went to this open area (the same location where we used the lasers for our rifles a few weeks back) and they demonstrated one of these vehicles. The driver drove around, picked up speed, made tight turns, climbed embankments. Someone mentioned that the vehicle is called a "Scorpion" in the US military, but that has not been either confirmed or denied. After ten minutes, the driver stopped and half of us went to check out the vehicle as he explained what it's used for, how many soldiers it seats, how many operators, etc. All I can say is, especially being over six feet, it does not look comfortable to sit in it, even as a transport. And add to that the sharp turns the caterpillar tracks can make and the jolting of the vehicle every time it hits a depression or embankment; needless to say, it would not make for a comfortable ride. But all in all, it was pretty cool.

They also had a few heavy guns on display, which they talked about, but didn't demonstrate. These guns were likely ones attached to tanks or other armored vehicles. They also had a sniper rifle. This was, I think, all thanks to the artillery unit that was spending the week on our base. Remember that's what I am likely able to join because of my profile.

But I am still considering Tzanchanim (Paratroopers). Truth be told, the initial glamour that came with thinking about the red boots and red beret, of being a paratrooper, wore off quickly this week. I admit I am starting to think critically about whether or not I want to try out for this elite unit. Can my body handle it? I'm 23, not old (at least in the real world), but certainly four or five years older than the Israeli soldiers. Do I want to put myself through a more rigorous basic training and service time? I'm not Rambo. I don't even know if I have what it takes inside to push myself to that higher level. Fortunately, when I come back to Tel Aviv on weekends, and just sit on the couch and watch TV, have a few (or more) beers, and check up on current events (as far as I am concerned, the world outside the base doesn't exist during the week), I become reinvigorated and excited to be a part of Israel's military. I have become lulled into a false sense of ease and sometimes become lackadaisical about my service while at Mikveh Alon. Life isn't hard. It's even becoming easier. I don't even consider it the "actual" IDF. It's still service time, but it's not with Israelis and we're learning Hebrew in a classroom! I might as well be back at Champaign! Anyway, I have friends who were in Tzanchanim and will learn more about what's in store for me if I decide to take the gibbush.

Anyway, we always have at least an hour or two of Hebrew before lunch, which is around 12:30. Then we often return to the classroom for four to five hours. One major part of our lives now is Tzionut, Zionism. My mefakedet spends about an hour a day with us going over the history of Israel, starting with the aliyahs of the 19th century. I have a confession here: I don't like Tzionut. Don't get me wrong though; I consider myself a Zionist, and a strong one at that (as if you couldn't tell that already). And I love learning about Israel, Jews, and our history. However, Tzionut often comes right before dinner or right before we have our break in the evening, and the concepts being discussed are very important and not understanding the language makes understanding them even more difficult. Personally, I've studied a lot of this and know exactly what the mefakedet is saying. But it also takes away from learning Hebrew.

However, on Wednesday, for our Tzionut, our mefakedet brought us to a classroom that had been converted into a pseudo-Holocaust museum, with a paper railroad taped the floor, candles lighting up the tracks, and pictures on the walls. We all sat down and she asked each of us how we felt. In my improved Hebrew, I mentioned how I had family who didn't make it through the war. Namely four of my grandmother's siblings (the fifth sibling is David's grandfather, remember?). I also said that it's good to be reminded of the Holocaust, to see pictures, because it reminds me of why I am in the IDF and it empowers me. (Also, Thursday was International Holocaust Remembrance Day.)

Each week of course Ivrit has a theme. Last week was Israeli music and this past week was the IDF. We learned about military terms, slang, and other phrases that will help us in the future. Next week is about important figures. And next week is a very good week. I report to base as usual tomorrow, but we go home Wednesday afternoon because Thursday is Yom Siddurim, a day for lone soldiers to take care of personal things. It's nice because the following week we'll be on base for nearly two straight weeks as my machlekah stays the weekend for guard duty.

I've written a lot more than I thought I could about this rather uneventful and quick week. One final thing: Egypt. It appears as if the government is going to be overthrown and President Hosni Mubarak will step down. Nothing certain yet, though. But there has been rioting for days now and the situation as reached a fever pitch. What does it mean for Israel? Many of the articles I have read do not point to a bright future. Mubarak has been in power ever since Anwar Sadat was assassinated for signing a peace treaty with Israel in 1979. The leaders and their backers of these riots do not have the nicest things to say about Israel. Some people think the peace treaty is doomed. While it's a great thing to see people trying to overthrow a dictatorial government (like in Tunisia the other week), the situation in Egypt does not mean good things for Israel.

As usual, thanks for reading. If anyone wants to hear more about any particular thing, just let leave a comment and I'll work it into the next post.

אני צה''ל I am IDF

"I hereby commit myself to remain loyal to the State of Israel, its constitution and official government and to accept unconditionally and unhesitantly the weight of responsibility of the Israeli Defense Forces, and to obey orders and commands given by my official commanders and to devote all my strength and even sacrifice my life in the defense of my homeland and the freedom of Israel."

I squint into the bright January sun. The cloudless blue sky over Acko is witness to an important day in the lives of two hundred young men and women. The oath is told over a loudspeaker and the new Israeli soldiers repeat each phrase at the top of their lungs. I do not understand all of the Hebrew, but had reviewed their meaning the day before and was prepared for this moment. After nearly a month in uniform, training with a gun, learning commands and how to obey orders, and living the life of a soldier, I finally committed myself to the defense of Israel. At the bakkum on my first day, I signed a paper that officially made me property of the Israeli government. Now, more importantly, I committed myself to the defense and security of the State of Israel.

The swearing-in ceremony signified a landmark in my IDF career: the conclusion of tironut, basic training. (Check last week's post for more information about tironut.) I have learned the bare-boned basics about how to be a soldier. Its culmination was the ceremony on Tuesday in Acko. Sunday was a day off for lone soldiers to clear up personal errands, such as bank accounts, apartment contracts, etc. It was great to have a four day week...although in many respects it still felt like a long week. But anyway, we arrived on base by eleven-thirty on Monday. The sleeping quarters were closed so each tzevet formed a chet outside. We welcomed our mefakedet, she said a few things, then gave us ten minutes to change into our Bet uniforms. While that is often more than enough time to change, we took our time and a few people ended up being late to report back to chet. Maybe they didn't have their shoe laces tied or forgot to change their shoulder tags to the new uniform. Consequently, our mefakedet was extremely displeased, to put it politely. She shouted and yelled, and gave us seven minutes to change BACK into our Aleph uniforms. Then again we had to change into our Bets, in seven minutes. What a way to start a week.

The rest of the day was uneventful (code for I can't really remember what we did) but that evening both plugots (remember: three tzevets (about 12-15 soldiers) in a machlekah, two machlekahs for a plugot) had tests on everything we learned during tironut. I forgot to mention last week, but right before we left early for the weekend, the mefakedets gave us written tests about the M-16, the radio, first aid, and the gas mask. By written, I mean my mefakedet asked me the questions and if I didn't exactly know the answer, she would help me out and mark it down as correct. But again, all this was in Hebrew. So, Monday night, we had to demonstrate that we knew how to handle each of the four equipment. I had to put the M-16 together after a previous soldier had taken it apart; I had to assume the amidah (standing) firing position and then crawl a few yards with the weapon; I had to put the radio together after changing a battery; I had to properly and quickly put on the gas mask and take it off; and I had to wrap my friend's arm with a field bandage. I passed the tests. Well done, soldier!

The next day we dressed in our Aleph uniforms because we were to leave the base that afternoon. However, before we left, the מ.מ. (Mem Mem [Mefaked HaMachlekah: head of the machlekah]- one above the HaSamelot, who is one above the mefakedet) gathered the machlekah in a classroom as we have done numerous times when he spoke to us about the shetach, the M-16, and other things. He spoke for a few minutes, clearing up some last items about our impending ceremony. Then he talked about something he, the HaSamelot, and the mefakedots had decided over the past few weeks: leading soldiers in each tzevet.

Dmitri, from Tzevet Echad. Congratulations. Moses, from Tzevet Echad. Aaaand, from my unit, Tzevet Sholosh: Sam! Congratulations. As each soldier's name was mentioned, he walked to the front of the room, saluted the Mem Mem, and their mefakedet would say a few words about why each soldier earned the recognition. After Sam sat down, the Mem Mem spoke one last time, about one final recognition: the מצטיין מחלקה- "Daniel Flesch." WOW! I stood up, said "קנ, הממ", walked to the front of the room and saluted. Then my mefakedot stood up and explained why I had been chosen. All of this was in Hebrew, so I didn't exactly understand all of it. The gist I got was that I was quiet when necessary, led by example, helped translate commands to English when my fellow soldiers didn't understand everything, and so on. For those who read this and are going to Mikveh Alon, I just say this: follow orders, keep time, and stay positive.

With the recognition, I received a letter with my name and ID number on it, and the statement stating that this award is given to a soldier who demonstrates heart and a willingness to help fellow soldiers without being asked, etc. Also, that evening, my mefakedet, who had taken my dog tags that morning, returned them to me, wrapped in interlacing black threads, designating me (and Sam, who received the same cover) as recognized leading soldiers. We also got one more recognition, to be mentioned shortly.

After the awards, we boarded buses to Acko. We stopped at the Acko Prison, where a famous prison break took place in the 1930s. A tour guide led us around the prison, everything in Hebrew, and we prepared for our ceremony. It was very exciting. First, we had received flaps to hang on our left shoulder epaulet that designate your place in the army. Ours is a white and blue flames on a green background: it denotes a position of education. An hour before our ceremony, we were all arranged in perfect rows according to our machlekah and we rehearsed the order of the ceremony. Before our ceremony, we had a half hour break. But first, we had to give our guns to the HaSammelot to put on a table in front of the machlekah. During the ceremony, we would "officially" receive our guns. We walked to the front and the HaSammelot spoke to us for a few minutes. I, conveniently, was the last person in my machlekah to receive my gun. The Sammelot talked about how I should not rest on my laurels; I need to become an even greater soldier. I responded with an affirmative, and walked to the other side of the table where the Mem Mem was waiting for me. And this was the final special item I received that day: the Mem Mem's gun. Incredible. But not for keeps. He had replaced my gun with his; as I had won the Mem Mem's award for the machlekah, I was given his gun (the tzevet winners were given their mefakedet's gun for the ceremony).

I stood at attention before him as he handed me the gun, which I snapped to my right shoulder. I then took the Tanach he offered and held it against the gun, holding it proudly as a sign of my belief in its word and value, willing to defend it with my weapon. He congratulated me profusely on earning the recognition and said some other things I didn't understand. Then I kissed the book, set it back on the table, and returned to my spot in line. Then we sang Hatikvah, Israel's national anthem and one of the most beautiful and meaningful songs I know.

After the ceremony, soldiers met up with their friends and families who had traveled to Acko to see them be sworn in. For perhaps the first time, I truly felt like a lone soldier. No one waiting for me, no one to take my picture, no one to congratulate me on realizing a dream that has dramatically changed my life. It's incredible having David and Amy here for me in Tel Aviv. But Acko wasn't the same without my parents, my sister, and my brother. After tironut for whichever unit I join after Mikveh, David/Amy will come to my swearing-in; it'll be a much bigger ceremony, and maybe my family?

But it's always good to come back to Tel Aviv and be able to hear English all weekend. It's a great relief to chill with Ben, my best friend from home, and just have a few beers and watch West Wing. (He also wants it known that he is a frequent editor and often the first one to read each new post.) Having a little bit of home with me provides some normalcy to my dramatically altered lifestyle.

That evening, we returned to base in a joyous mood. We had dinner and were ordered into sport clothes; no rest, even for the victorious. Back to business.

The next day, we started our ulpan, or course Ivrit. It was rough. Not in the difficult sense; we started with learning the bare boned basics: the letters of the Aleph-Bet. Somebody shoot me. On Thursday we started to learn some words, conjugation, etc. I know all this stuff, so it's kinda hard to pay attention and take it seriously. But I hear the pace will pick up. We're in class at least seven hours. The day is somewhat easier. We get a ten minute break every forty to fifty minutes. We still run everywhere, but now we're supposed to get at least seven hours of sleep at night, as opposed to six. In reality, we get much less.

Friday was going home day. We were told not to hitch-hike and not to drink and drive. If there's a war, we have to report to Mikveh Alon right away. I had never really thought about being a soldier off base before. The first time we got released for the weekend and I traveled home on the train then the walk back to my apartment in my uniform, I realized that I am a potential terrorist target. Obviously, what the hell do I know about anything in the IDF? Nothing. I can't do shit. But still, as Gilad Shalit's tragic and terrible situation demonstrates, IDF soldiers are targeted by terrorists. But I think I'm pretty safe in Tel Aviv.

So, if you read last week, you're probably wondering why I'm not on base this weekend. And you've probably been wondering why I didn't address this right away. Never mind the latter, but the former's reason is because I think my machlekah doesn't do guard duty until February. Sweet! I'll still be coming home for the weekends for the rest of the month.

And speaking of "month," check back on my blog entry list to November 15th. The title of that entry is "One Month!!!" Well, folks, it's been ONE MONTH SINCE I ENLISTED!!! One down, seventeen to go!!

In other matters: I want to thank everyone for reading this. And I'm not just talking about my friends and family (that means you Mom, Dad, Kimberly and Eric!!). I've received a few emails and there have been comments posted by complete strangers, which is wonderful. I'm glad that my writing has attracted so much interest and reached people who share an interest in my experiences. Many of these people have sons interested in joining the IDF, or already in the service. PLEASE: pass along my blog to your friends and families. I am encouraged by the responses I have received and will continue to try my hardest, both on my base and on my blog!

A final few words about Israel. What's going on in this country? Well for those of you who don't read the Jerusalem Post every day, and that includes me now, too, there are two things I want to point out. First, the government is currently deciding whether or not it wants to begin an investigation into Israeli human rights organizations. What's the big deal? In a nutshell: a report has recently surfaced that many of these organizations receive a large percentage (meaning over half) of their funding from European or Arab sources. So? Well, on a basic level, it indicates the leaning these groups take when evaluating Israel's treatment of Palestinians, human rights record, democracy, etc. No longer can many of these organizations (including B'Tselem) be considered "Israeli." With money flowing in from anti-Israel and anti-Semitic donors, the non-biased stance these organizations proclaim to take is clearly compromised. I used to laud Israel for having non-governmental groups that took a hard-line stance on many of the government's policies: it is a strong indicator of a free society, the only one in the Middle East. While on the outside my praise still remains true, it is clear that these organizations do not simply operate to keep the government in check; rather, they operate to delegitimize Israel's actions, and therefore compromise its security and standing in the world. (See: Caroline Glick's editorials in the Jerusalem Post.)

Finally, not all is peachy on Israel's borders. In fact, I mentioned that my officers told us what to do in case of war for a reason. First off, they mentioned the procedure for the first time since our first weekend off. Why? It's probably because the IDF is on alert in the north. What's going on there? Well, the UN is set to release its findings of an investigation into the 2005 assassination of Lebanon's prime minister. It is a well-known secret that Hezbollah murdered the popular leader. Now his son is prime minister and Hezbollah has warned him not to cooperate with the UN. That's the gist. Look online for more. My point here is that Hezbollah, who is already operating as a state-within-a-state in southern Lebanon, is a terrorist organization holding a legitimate government hostage. Hariri's coalition has disbanded. The future of Lebanon's freedom appears to be at risk. And the results could spill over into Israel.

So that's it for this week's post. Back to base tomorrow to learn more Hebrew. I'm starting to miss home a bit. Life's much different here, even outside of the military. It's sometimes hard to watch tv shows or movies; reminds me of home and makes me feel anxious. I'm really starting to enjoy myself at the base, though. The recognition/award was incredible; a real, definite high. Of course, there are times, like I've mentioned before, where we get knocked down a peg or two. Then we rebound later. I'm gelling with the guys real well. We enjoy our times on breaks, even if it's for ten minutes here or fifteen minutes there. Life is picking up now that we're going to learn Hebrew. It's fun, and also a little frustrating, learning Hebrew. I just have to make sure that I'm as proficient as possible by March 3rd. I have no doubt that I will be able to understand commands and survive in the IDF. But I want to be able to converse with the Israeli soldiers and have a good time with them, in Hebrew. Thinking about that sometimes gets me anxious to learn everything and I think we don't have enough time, that a month and a half isn't enough. But hopefully it is.

Until next week, thanks for reading!!

the Israel Defense Force

My IDF service officially began!! It's been two weeks since my last post; I don't have my computer with me while on base. I get the weekends off (Friday morning to Sunday morning). This post will include what I started to write last week but didn't finish.

----------

I am currently in Tel Aviv. No, I am not done with the army. I was given the weekend off. I got up at 3:45am on Friday and need to report back at 10:15am on Sunday. Some weekend. The bus ride north from Tel Aviv to Carmiel will take about three hours. So tomorrow I will be getting up around 6:00, at the latest. The days are getting much longer.

On Wednesday, David drove me to the Lishgat Hagiyus in Tel Hashomer. I've been there so many times, I know the route by heart. We arrived at 8:00am, and by 9:00 my name was called over the loudspeaker, I boarded a bus with about twenty other guys, and we drove away...about three blocks to another location on the base. There we dropped off our bags, and were escorted into a building where we underwent a number of procedures. We had, essentially, mugshots taken, photos of our teeth and dental x-rays taken, blood drawn for DNA, and four vaccination shots. Next I met with two people, first to find out personal information such as bank account information, living conditions, etc., then another soldier to gauge my Hebrew level. Finally, we received our equipment. And wow, is it pretty awesome.

At Mikveh Alon, there are soldiers like me (Mahal) and those who made aliyah (Olim- Immigrants). Most are "jobniks"; they will serve the IDF in some clerical or menial position, like being a driver. Then there are others, like myself, who are "kravi"- combat. Both kinds of soldiers receive the same equipment except for a few items. We all get a uniform, with beret, belt, undershirts (white for jobniks, green for kravi), socks, dogtags, towel, shaving kit (a Gillette Mach 3, pretty awesome), and other smaller items. Kravi soldiers receive a nice large duffel bag, and jobniks get a smaller, tube-shaped one. Finally, and this is badass, kravi get heavy-duty red/brown boots that have previously only been given to elite units, namely the paratroopers. Jobniks get smaller black boots. The uniforms are simple, but sharp-looking. I'll post some pictures in the coming weeks.

After receiving our goods and dressing in our uniforms, we sat around for an hour, ate lunch, sat around some more, then finally boarded a bus to take us to Mikveh Alon. We arrived around nine at night, and were not done for the day. The next few hours was spent telling more soldiers the same information that we had already told so many people before; from the Tzav Rishon, to earlier in the day, to Mahal, etc. But now, they also asked different questions, such as "are you religious", "do you have any dietary restrictions", and others. The whole show is some big song and dance and would be much easier if they would put the information in the computer and one time and always be able to refer to it later. But then I guess many jobniks would be out of a job.

We were also organized into units, called tzevets. I am in tzeva shesh, unit six. We have a mefakedet, a commander. Most of the commanders are girls. Each unit is about fourteen soldiers; no differentiation between jobniks and kravi at Mikveh Alon, we're all in the same boat for now. Our basic order is called "chet," like the Hebrew letter. It is three sides of a rectangle, with three soldiers on either end and the rest in the middle. We also often have to form two perfect lines before moving locations. Regardless of our formation, we always stand at the same attention. Our legs together, toes pointed outward, forming about a 45 degree angle, hands overlapped on the middle of our backs. We are to be spaced one arm's distance from each other. There is virtually no saluting; when we want to get a commander's attention, we stop a few feet from them, stand at attention, and shout "Acshev, mefakadat!"

We didn't do much the first couple days. Mainly learning how to stand in line and walking all over base. We had to get up at 3:45 Friday morning to go home. But we didn't leave the base until close to 8. Why? Because we had to clean our rooms, leave it spotless, and keep our beds in perfect condition. I'll explain more later. That's about it for now. I had the weekend off, spent it with Ben in Rishon LeTziyon. Time for the first full week.

----------

What a grind this week was. First thing after getting back to the base (for which I had to wake up at 5:30 in the morning to get on multiple buses), was we were arranged in new tzevets, according to our Hebrew level, at least partially. I am now in Tzevet Sholosh, Unit Three. There are eleven people, four Americans, two British and five Russians. Russians are at Mikveh Alon largely against their will; their families emigrated from Russia or the Former Soviet Union to find a better life in Israel and their kids, as citizens, have to serve in the military like any Israeli. They don't like being there, and, to be honest, it shows. There's currently a big rift in our unit between the English speakers and the Russian speakers. It's mainly due to the language barrier. I hope it eases, because we have been doing a lot of running and pushups due to lack of coordination when forming into chets or lines.

The organization at Mikveh Alon is also starting to become clear. Each tzevet has between twelve and fifteen soldiers. Three tzevets make up a plugot, like three platoons making a company. There are six plugots at MA. The commander of each plugot is called the HaSamelot. She's a real ball-buster. Hard as rocks and completely unforgiving. Everything has to be perfect. When we form into a "chet gadol/big chet" for the plugot, she addresses us to tell us about something important or allow us to go to a meal. If someone moves without permission or talks without being spoken to, or even forgets to say "ken, HaSamelot/Yes, commander" then he is told to do ten or twenty pushups. If he says the wrong thing when trying to get back into formation, because he has to ask permission to get back in, he's sent to do another set of pushups.

Each day starts at about 4:30 or 5 in the morning. We wake up, change, organize our beds, put our bags and sleeping bag perfectly on the mattress, report outside at a specific time, and then the next hour is spent with our mefakedet giving us 5 minutes to run back inside, shave and shine our boots (which most have already done), then run back outside, then inside for another few minutes to mop the floor and dust the room, then inspection by the HaSamelot, who often undoes our folded sheets just because she can.

Throughout the day we run everywhere: "See that lightpost 30 yards away? 20 seconds, run to it, get into two perfect lines. MOVE!" We always have to count backwards from 10 (in Hebrew) whenever our allotted time is up. Or: "30 seconds to run to that space just past the dumpster, form a chet (ח, our basic formation), MOVE!" If we're not perfect, we often have to run back to the previous spot. Or we may get 10 seconds to get ourselves perfectly spaced. Other times, like Thursday, when the mefakedet was upset with our unit, we ran all over the base for over an hour. We would be in chet, then have to run and touch a building with our canteens and get back into formation in 20 seconds. If people don't make it, we would do it again. I'm one of the guys in the best shape, too. We had a test the other day: situps, pushups, running. I think I did 86, 60 and was 19th in running. 19th because i stayed back with some people to encourage other guys in our unit. The test didnt really count; I'll 'place' in top 5 when it actually does.

We also got guns....but no ammunition. We're given the M-16A1 assault rifle, made in the USA. We have to carry it everywhere: eating meals, running places, taking a shit, going to the shower, everywhere. I know the parts of the gun in Hebrew (at least working on it) and how to clean and disassemble the firing pin/mechanism. I know the positions to shoot (like standing, crouching, prone, or amidah, kria, and shivat in Hebrew) and the commands. They are very strict with gun safety: no pointing it at anyone, never raise the barrel, always keep it pointed at hte ground.

Most of the day is spent...I dont even know how. We learn about the gun, have done some Hebrew lessons, like learning Hatikvah, the national anthem, nothing too serious yet, and was introduced to the higher ranking commanders. Most of the time I guess is spent running around, almost for no reason. For example, there are about 200 guys here for the ulpan. So we're all brought into this auditorium to hear from the base's psychologist, or a commanding officer or something. Then my company is given 3 minutes to run outside and form a chet. That's for 40 guys, half of whom are Russian with limited English and us with no Russian comprehension. We often don't make it, so we do pushups. Then we run back inside to hear from another commander. No point to it. We could've just stayed in our seats.

The other night, after our hour break, we had to report back outside with the entire company for the commander to say a few things, but basically give us our 5 minute warning before lights out. We can show up in pj's outside. Well, this night, people were talking or late to formation, so we all had to get back into our uniforms (and I and others had already showered) to do running and pushups for a half hour.

Anyway, this experience right now certainly is interesting. Do I like it? Let's just say 'like' is not in the vocabulary right now. It's different. It's what I signed up for; the running/pushups we are doing are not strenuous, just tiring. One of my toes started to bleed the other day from chafing. Its rough. But its kinda fun. 'Playing' soldier. Walking around with a gun. The first week (really less than two days), was a lot of sitting around. I said to David that I kinda wanted to start doing things and was anxious. He told me that I would soon learn to relish our breaks...and I am. Any few minutes we have to just not do anything is wonderful.