tobealonesoldier

Ok, so maybe my last post was a bit heavy on the play-by-play of my life. Let me mix it up a bit. I'll be more than happy to open my life a little more to you and try to convey what it's like to be a lone soldier. I also think I promised a post more about thoughts and feelings a few weeks ago. One thing that my studies over the past year have taught me is to always repay my debts as soon as possible.

I was told/cautioned back in Chicago that is it easy for a lone soldier to become an alone soldier. I have been so fortunate to have an incredibly supportive family in Tel Aviv. David and Amy and their daughters have been like an adoptive family to me. They initially welcomed me in with open arms and I am yet (I hope, haha) to overstay my welcome. I come home on weekends and return to base on Sunday. I don't see them so much anymore, but they are always happy to see me and provide me with anything I need. (One cute story: the other week, Amy was home with Shai (3), who wasn't feeling well and wanted to know where everyone in the family was. 'Where's Lena?' 'At school, honey.' 'Kaya?' 'Also at school.' 'Abba?' 'He's at work.' 'Daniel?' 'In the army.' I'm just extremely humbled and honored that Shai considers me a part of the family, or maybe just the apartment's new jungle gym [see photo]. First, I would like to thank the Academy, and of course my fans, and I would also like to thank....) I cannot imagine what it would have been like to come to Israel without any connections, as many of my friends did months before Mikveh. Kudos to them.

Lone soldiers have different living options in Israel. It is common for us to live with extended family (if we have any), stay on a kibbutz (where we can be adopted by an Israeli family), or to rent an apartment. I have begun to look into moving to a kibbutz. I love it in Tel Aviv, but I'm looking for a place with, quite frankly, my own room. Also on kibbutzim are other lone soldiers, so it'll be a good place to chill with more guys my age, going through similar experiences as me, when I come back every few weekends. It's an option I'm strongly considering, but the process takes time. I've talked with the Mishakit Tash (a girl on base who's job is to help soldiers with personal issues) and as it stands right now, I should get the next opening at one of two kibbutzim where a few of my friends already live.

Even with a family all around me, I certainly still feel like a stranger in a strange land. Never mind trying to feel like an Israeli, I'm simply concerning myself with feeling at home 6,000 miles away. I used to think to myself "why am I here?" However, since Mikveh Alon has ended and my IDF future is imminent, I have gotten caught up in my life and have become more certain in my decisions. Still, life (or the IDF) gave me a big slap-in-the-face reminder that I am indeed a lone soldier. During the tekkes last week for the conclusion of Mikveh Alon, many of the soldiers had families in attendance. I was left alone, with only my thoughts and other lone soldiers to keep me company. It was one thing to finish Mikveh, but it will certainly be another to make it through seven months of basic and advanced training and be alone for that tekkes. It is one thing to go through this life in the military in your own country, and quite another to do it in such a foreign place. Even when I am home on weekends, I often feel hurried, already looking Sunday morning when I will again walk to the train station and travel back up north. It is very difficult to feel grounded. Maybe this has something to do with living with David, Amy and the family, how I come home on Friday, and each family member is often busy with their own lives, running here and there for school, activities, work. It has been difficult to feel grounded and completely at ease since joining. Part of this, I believe, is because I've been anxious to get out of Mikveh. I want to start the 'real' army, as I've talked about before. Eventually I will develop a routine at my new base and start to feel more at home in Israel. but for now, such is the life.

The fire in my heart to serve Israel is alive and burning. Even if I were completely alone, it would not be extinguished. What keeps it strong? In large part, it is what this week has brought to many US college campuses: Israel Apartheid Week. From Monday to Friday, pro-Palestinian academics, professors, activists, and students host events or speakers dedicated to denouncing Israel as an apartheid state, likening it to South Africa. Last year during IAW was the first time that I really started actively advocating, or rather, defending, for Israel. It amazes me how intelligent, supposedly liberal and open-minded people can demonize a nation and a state to the extent they seek to achieve. Last year's IAW really brought out the reality, for me, that pro-Palestinian supporters are really anti-Israel demonstrators.

On my campus last March, IAW was complete with its own events, including a faux "apartheid wall" where hyped-up students, many of whom spewed non-sensical phrases and slogans, shouted through a microphone to classmates passing through to class about the supposed evils of Israel, the world's only Jewish state. Needless to say, I took exception to this and decided to have a few words (pleasant ones, I hoped) with a few of them. What started as a simple conversation, in which I searched, in vain, for moderate voices, turned into a five-on-one free-for-all. Can you guess who was the one? Damn straight, and proud of it! However, what I soon learned was that it was impossible to reason with people set in their beliefs. People who are for Israel or against Israel are not able to be convinced in the merits of other arguments. That goes for me too; no one will be able to tell me that Israel should not exist. Instead, what Israeli activists should focus on is convincing the majority of people who know nothing about the issues people face on this side of the world. That itself is a very difficult task, but there are people who are on the vanguard of this effort. One of these is Sgt. Benjamin Anthony.

A few weeks after IAW, the Jewish organizations on campus held Israel Peace and Israel Independence Weeks. It was a fortnight of activity for the promotion of Israel and hopes for peace. One night, we had a former IDF soldier come to speak to a group of pro- and anti-Israel students. Ben Anthony made aliyah from Britain and fought the Second Lebanon War in 2006. After his service, he started an organization called Our Soldiers Speak (click), in which he explains to audiences the front-line experiences of Israel's conflicts, as opposed to what the media portrays. When he came to my campus last year, he requested a diverse audience, with supporters and detractors. I believe his intent is not only to field difficult questions from anti-Israel people and provide a solid and carefully crafted response, but also to demonstrate to the pro-Israel students that we don't have to be cowered into intimidation by the often volatile-prone nature of anti-Israel activism and their use of such difficult and emotional terms like "genocide," "apartheid" or "human rights violations." For example, in response to a comment that one Palestinian posed explaining how his grandmother feels humiliated while trying to pass through security checkpoints in the West Bank, Sgt. Anthony took the time to explain the purpose of the checkpoints (they were established during the Second Intifadah where the only way Israel knew how to defend herself was to physically create a barrier to control and monitor the flow of people to and from Israel proper) and then provided perhaps the most human of all arguments in support of Israel's practices: "I am truly sorry for the inconvenience your grandmother faces, but, simply put, I don't want to be blown up."

It is this most basic of human desires--to exist, to live--that was one of my initial driving forces pushing me to fight for Israel. There are many people out there who do not wish me, as a Jew, to have even the simplest of earthly desires. (Anyone who tells you that anti-Semitism is a thing of the past is sadly mistaken. In fact, in many parts of the world, it is on the rise.) I spoke to my brother, Eric, the other week and he mentioned how Sgt. Anthony had returned to U of I for another talk. This time, however, he spoke more about struggles he and his soldiers faced with themselves, not so much about Lebanon or living in Israel. According to Eric, there were times throughout his service that they pondered the following scenario: someone has a gun toward your head and says, 'convert or die.' What do you do?

Eric posed the same question to me. I didn't have a quick response. On the surface, I suppose it is certainly something that I need to consider, being in the military. But on a deeper level, this simple question is directed at something much more profound: would I be willing to die for my religion, for my belief in Judaism? On the one hand, it is easy to say, "Yes! I feel that strongly and am willing to sacrifice my life to practice as I please." On the other hand, I could respond with, "Sure I'll convert, then I'll just quietly practice Judaism" (much like Jews in Spain did after their expulsion in 1492). The truth? I don't know what I would do. The Israelis' response? Action; take the gun or die trying.

I wear a kippah everyday to remind myself of many things, but one of them is that I am here as a Jew. I am not Israeli, nor am I a mercenary fighting for any certain political cause (there's no way I can ever be given 'mercenary' status making 700 shekels a month!). So, to an extent--and I'm not going to skirt around this reality--I am certainly fighting a religious war. However, the battle lines have shifted. As I've mentioned before, I do not believe Israel today is threatened by Damascus, Beirut, Riyadh, or Baghdad (Tehran is a different story). Instead, Israel is losing the political and public relations battle. And where are those battle lines? On college campuses and in government corridors. It starts with IAW or the BDS (Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions) Movement (click). It appears to be directed at the Knesset's (Parliament) policies. It soon develops into a cause and then becomes a necessity. But if you come to Israel, if you study its history, if you learn about the relations between Jews and Arabs/Muslims, Israelis and Palestinians, if you take the time to listen to all sides, learn the facts, and see the results, then, I believe, you will get a much different picture than the ones who spearhead IAW or BDS paint for their consumers. You soon realize that much of anti-Israel rhetoric and activity is in fact anti-Semitism, but, unfortunately, there aren't enough people with the chutzpah necessary to call it as such.

Although not always the biggest advocate for Israel, Thomas Friedman said it best: "Criticizing Israel is not anti-Semitic, and saying so is vile. But singling out Israel for opprobrium and international sanction--out of all proportion to any other party in the Middle East--is anti-Semitic, and not saying so is dishonest."

So, how does it feel to be a lone soldier? How does it feel to be fighting for my people in one of the world's strongest militaries, in a volatile region, amidst a hotbed of upheaval and unrest? How does it feel to know more parts of the M-16 in Hebrew than in English? How does it feel to be living in one of the world's most beautiful and diverse country? A country that is energetic, humanitarian, passionate and also lawless on so many levels? How does it feel to be on the other side of the world, without constant connection to friends and loved ones? And how does it feel to be in Tzanchanim, the Paratroopers, for my IDF service? (BLEEPING) AWESOME!!!

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!!