Within my many books, I have a couple that deal at length with IDF training. One is from a jobnik (someone who has a fairly unintensive desk job), the other from a paratrooper. The difference is incredible.
The first book is Valérie Zenatti's When I Was A Soldier: One Girl's Real Story. She served around 1988 - 1990, and mainly complained about how she couldn't listen to music on the bus, she had to choose between calling home and taking a shower each night, and how ugly the army shoes and coats were. Some excerpts:
"No time to think any more. Every minute is accounted for, everytghing we do is under orders, without a moment's rest since this morning. Any form of initiative is inconceivable. We've learned how to fold the sheets and blankets properly (60 by 40cm). Beforehand, you have to shake the blankets really hard, and a great cloud of dust comes off them. I think they must dunk them in a bath of dust before each session. The asthmatics are lucky: they don't have to do it. As from tomorrow, we'll have at least one inspection a day. The lists of duties have been handed out: kitchen, sanitation block, night guard duties. Because we don't have our weapons yet and we haven't learned to shoot, we stand guard round our tents ... Not exactly useful, because there are other people ensuring the base is secure. but it seems to me that the words 'useful' and 'logical' don't have any tangible meaning. We follow our lessons and are given a hard life. Full stop."
"I should really be sleeping. But I've just finished my guard duty. It's very funny. We have to ask for the password - today it's 'coffee without sugar' - from everyone who comes into the tent area. I'm the legionnaire Valerix! If I had any magic potion I'd nip to the kitchens to give the cooks a few ideas. To be honest, the meals are disgusting. I've joined the club of yoghurt eaters. It's good for the figure, but the lack of sleep and the exercises make you so hungry. Luckily we've got our supplies of biscuits, which we've pooled together."
"Three of my room-mates have collapsed on to their beds. They're nibbling biscuits and noisily discussing their fruitless trip to the phone booths. They glance over at me a few times but not enough to interrupt their conversation. I open my book."
The second is Self-Portrait Of A Hero: The Letters Of Jonathan Netanyahu (1963-1976). This one needs a bit of background. Jonathan Netanyahu was the older brother of Benjamin Netanyahu (former Prime Minister of Israel) and is seen as one of the greatest soldiers in Israel's history. He later went on to command Sayeret Matkal (Israel's Delta Force) and was killed in Uganda while rescuing hostages from a hijacked plane (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Entebbe). He was expected to be a major leader in Israel, and there are those who feel the main reason Benjamin rose so high was because people automatically turned to him after Jonathan's death.
Of course, the hero of Operation Jonathan (it was posthumously named after him - there's even a road near me called Operation Jonathan Street) was a long ways away from the 18-year-old kid in the August 1964 paratroop basic training, although you can see some of what he would be.
In letters to his familly and girlfriend, Netanyahu talked about how tough their training was, they have no time to think about anything but their current task, and how the smallest things (such as sleeping under a roof) can seem like a great wonder. Some excerpts of his:
"Yesterday was the worst day. We exercised nonstop all day, and by evening everyone was thoroughly exhausted and praying for a good long sleep (i.e., four or five hours). We thought we'd earned it after being pushed so hard physically. But the officers had other ideas, for immediately after supper they started night training, which went on for a few hours. After the exercise, our hopes for a good sleep were dashed again when a five-mile high-speed march was announced [...] Well, after the march, which was extended by an extra mile, we came back to camp, and then again, instead of sleeping, we were put through a 'Tirtur,' the like of which we'd never had. ('Tirtur' means we have to run and fetch the cot, then the mattress, then the kitbag, then the mess tin, then put on our winter clothes, etc.--all in a matter of seconds.) [...] After that, when we had only a little over an hour left for sleep, it turned out that it was our squad's turn for guard duty." Note: this letter was written 32 days after he first showed up
"Just this minute we finished lunch; meat (a distressingly small amount) mixed with rice, beans, a pickle and an apple (not bad food, but not enough). Army food is so planned that all the calories you take in are immediately used up in work. If you don't eat your portion to the last crumb, you won't be able to move. Some guys faint from weakness"
"In a few weeks we'll go to jump school [...] We've gone down such a long road that this course is like a treat that's awarded at the end (that's the general feeling), and now we're like little kids who've been promised candy but haven't been given any. The course itself, they say, is the easiest part of our army service. That is, daytime training is not at all easy, but at least you sleep well at night and the food is excellent (the course is conducted in one of the central military bases, which has everything: food, showers, huts to sleep in, and more)."
Take a guess which one my training is going to be more like
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
A New Challenge
As I've mentioned, I'll probably be able to go home once every three weeks while in the army. Now I'm seeing the benefit of this: I'm not sure I'll have a home.
During my time in Haifa I've learned once again that I don't like living in a city. One of the benefits of being a chayal boded ["lone soldier" - those without any family in Israel] is the army will either pay your rent (up to a point, of course) or they will find you a place on a kibbutz. I called up the guy in charge of finding soldiers kibbutzim [the plural of kibbutz] a few months ago and was told to call him again about three days before I'd want to move in.
I called him again a couple days ago, saying that I start November 4 and all I need is for it to a Kibbutz Dati in the North of Israel. I'll just pause here to give an idea - technically the North is just number 1, but I'm also fine with kibbutzim in A (Golan Heights), 2 (Haifa region), and possibly in B (West Bank), although I'd be much more selective there.
And since these should be included at some point, here is a map of Israel. Please don't complain about the maps including or leaving out sections, I'm just looking for one that is easier to see and understand rather than for political arguments.
To get an idea of the size, look at Haifa (jutting out a bit into the Mediterranean) and Har Hermon [Mount Hermon] (very northeast corner of Israel). On a very clear day, you can see Mount Hermon from here
And the region as a whole (I imagine most of you already know this, but the country west of Israel is Egypt):
Back to where I was. I gave him my request and he told me that there should be a place at Kibbutz Lavi, about a 40 minute drive due east from Haifa and 6km west of Tiberias (on the Sea of Galilee). I checked the kibbutz out a bit online, and it sounded pretty good. He said he just had to check with them, and that I should call back the next day.
I talked to him again this afternoon and he kindly informed me that Kibbutz Lavi is full, but he might be able to find me a place on another kibbutz before I have to start my service. Hopefully in a couple weeks there'll be something.
That's very comforting. If I'm lucky, I may have a week to move in, get to know the place, inform all the important places my new address (Ministry of the Interior, Ministry of Absorption, City Hall, banks, phone company... not to mention the army, all of which must be done in person), and then get back to the Haifa Central Bus Station by 7:30 that big morning.
Fortunately I had a backup. David just moved into his new apartment and he had asked me back in August to move in with him. The only reason I turned the offer down was because he's in Tel Aviv, and as much as he denied it, the area sounded like too much of a city for me.
No luck again. David already found someone. Probably is better this way, though; If Haifa is too much of a city for me, I can't imagine living in Tel Aviv. And I wouldn't want to live there just until I could find somewhere else - aside from the efforts of moving myself halfway across the country twice, David would have to start looking for another roommate again.
In any case, my lease here is good until either the beginning or end of December (depending on if my landlady finds someone soon). And the army gives time off for moving, although I imagine they'd frown upon asking for extra time off before I've even started.
But at the worst, I'm sure I can get by. If I have to, I'll just find a temporary place in Haifa. The army will pay about $300 of rent per month. My current apartment is on what's often considered the best road in the country ("Yefe Nof," meaning "Beautiful view") and costs $350 per month.
Now that I think about it, you could get a pretty good place for that money - a friend of mine just moved out of his apartment in Haifa. It had three bedrooms, large living room, kitchen, foyer, and was only around $250 a month (just not in a great part of the city). But as I was saying, I'm just not a city person.
During my time in Haifa I've learned once again that I don't like living in a city. One of the benefits of being a chayal boded ["lone soldier" - those without any family in Israel] is the army will either pay your rent (up to a point, of course) or they will find you a place on a kibbutz. I called up the guy in charge of finding soldiers kibbutzim [the plural of kibbutz] a few months ago and was told to call him again about three days before I'd want to move in.
I called him again a couple days ago, saying that I start November 4 and all I need is for it to a Kibbutz Dati in the North of Israel. I'll just pause here to give an idea - technically the North is just number 1, but I'm also fine with kibbutzim in A (Golan Heights), 2 (Haifa region), and possibly in B (West Bank), although I'd be much more selective there.
And since these should be included at some point, here is a map of Israel. Please don't complain about the maps including or leaving out sections, I'm just looking for one that is easier to see and understand rather than for political arguments.
To get an idea of the size, look at Haifa (jutting out a bit into the Mediterranean) and Har Hermon [Mount Hermon] (very northeast corner of Israel). On a very clear day, you can see Mount Hermon from here
And the region as a whole (I imagine most of you already know this, but the country west of Israel is Egypt):
Back to where I was. I gave him my request and he told me that there should be a place at Kibbutz Lavi, about a 40 minute drive due east from Haifa and 6km west of Tiberias (on the Sea of Galilee). I checked the kibbutz out a bit online, and it sounded pretty good. He said he just had to check with them, and that I should call back the next day.
I talked to him again this afternoon and he kindly informed me that Kibbutz Lavi is full, but he might be able to find me a place on another kibbutz before I have to start my service. Hopefully in a couple weeks there'll be something.
That's very comforting. If I'm lucky, I may have a week to move in, get to know the place, inform all the important places my new address (Ministry of the Interior, Ministry of Absorption, City Hall, banks, phone company... not to mention the army, all of which must be done in person), and then get back to the Haifa Central Bus Station by 7:30 that big morning.
Fortunately I had a backup. David just moved into his new apartment and he had asked me back in August to move in with him. The only reason I turned the offer down was because he's in Tel Aviv, and as much as he denied it, the area sounded like too much of a city for me.
No luck again. David already found someone. Probably is better this way, though; If Haifa is too much of a city for me, I can't imagine living in Tel Aviv. And I wouldn't want to live there just until I could find somewhere else - aside from the efforts of moving myself halfway across the country twice, David would have to start looking for another roommate again.
In any case, my lease here is good until either the beginning or end of December (depending on if my landlady finds someone soon). And the army gives time off for moving, although I imagine they'd frown upon asking for extra time off before I've even started.
But at the worst, I'm sure I can get by. If I have to, I'll just find a temporary place in Haifa. The army will pay about $300 of rent per month. My current apartment is on what's often considered the best road in the country ("Yefe Nof," meaning "Beautiful view") and costs $350 per month.
Now that I think about it, you could get a pretty good place for that money - a friend of mine just moved out of his apartment in Haifa. It had three bedrooms, large living room, kitchen, foyer, and was only around $250 a month (just not in a great part of the city). But as I was saying, I'm just not a city person.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Hello World
A number of people have requested me to keep a blog of my time in the army. I don't promise much, but I will try. And as I expect to get one to two days off every three weeks, you shouldn't expect much either.
I'll start with what I can
------------------------------------------
I got my first letter from the army back in March, saying that I had to show up at the Draft Board on April 17. By early June, they figured out that I live in Haifa (I've been here since last December) and sent some more letters that actually reached me. I did show up to that first meeting, but they had by that point realized there was a mistake in the address (it still took another month and a half of me constantly repeating "I live in HAIFA" for them to get the new one) and they just told me to go home and wait.
For my [second] first meeting, I spent the first two hours (after the obligatory waiting) giving them my basic information: where I grew up, who my parents are, who to contact in case something happens to me...
It seemed to be much more interesting for the soldiers working there than for me. When I showed them my letter from the Ministry of Education confirming that I have a degree, it was passed all around the office and everyone "Oohed" (or "אווו" I suppose, since they all spoke Hebrew). Then came an interview/Hebrew test, which I hated. The whole morning I was speaking in Hebrew with almost no problem, but as soon as they were testing it, I couldn't say a word.
I was then sent upstairs for the physical. It went fine, except that when I speak Hebrew, especially when I speak badly, I get nervous. So when the doctor took my blood pressure, I guess it was in the "he should be dead" range. Fortunately (?) the doctor realized it wasn't normal for me and told me to get it tested a few more times at the lcoal clinic, then return.
And I have found what must be the worst job in the army. I had felt bad for friends who told me about being stuck on the Jordanian border just watching fish, but that's nothing now. There is a girl whose entire job is to tell people to pee in a cup and return it to her.
For my last stop of the day, I was given a "psychotechnical exam." It was like a pattern section from the SATs - they'd show three shapes and I had to choose from four options which one would complete the set. It was incredibly simple stuff, like "large square, large triangle, small square, ______" (if you're confused, the answer is "small triangle"). I think real Israelis get a more comprehensive test, more like the American army exam.
I was called back a few weeks later and showed them the doctor's blood pressure tests. Between my bad eyes, age (most Israelis are finished with the army by the time they're 21, not entering at 23), questionable blood pressure, and so on... they gave me a perfect health score: 97 out of 97 (no one seems to know why it's out of 97 instead of 100).
I guess this sealed my fate.
For my next (and up to now, last) trip down there, they sat me down with a computer display of my job options and a soldier to explain what they mean. The ten options were: Infantry (Golani, Kfir, Givati, or Nachal brigade), Border Guards, Artillery, Anti-Aircraft, Tanks, Field Engineers, and Field Intelligence.
For each of the ten I had to label how much I wanted them, from 1 (Definitely not) to 5 (Absolutely yes). The only one I was adamant about was tanks, and after I explained my opinion on them (big death traps) to the soldier, she said, "OK, we'll mark that as 0." The rest I was mostly between abivalent to negative about (if it's me vs. a plane, I don't like my odds). And there was a separate section for my top three choices, plus a write-in spot for any profession or degree I may have. I told the girl that I have a degree in music, and her response was to just laugh and say, "Right, you're not doing that." Somehow, the army has decided that I'm going into a combat unit and I have no choice about it.
To be fair, the Field Intelligence sounded quite interesting. It's basically an infantry unit, but when there's "peace" (or what passes for peace around here), they do intelligence. And not just sitting in a basement looking at pictures of roads, but sitting outside with binoculars (all safe though, and all from within Israel). And I've heard very good things about them, so I put that as one of my three choices.
I was then told to just wait for my draft date. As simple as this should be, it's become one of the most confusing parts of the whole process. I've gotten four different צוי גיוס ["call-up papers" I guess would be the translation] with three different dates. The first two said November 4, then December 5, then November 18. And when I got back from America yesterday there was a letter waiting for me saying that they have acknowledged my status as a "lone soldier" (someone with no family in Israel, which means I get a lot of extra benefits), and I should show the letter to whoever is in charge when I get to the base, on November 4.
To settle it all, at least for now, I called up the Draft Board today. It looks like November 4 is my date. So four weeks from today, I'll be a soldier.
I'll start with what I can
------------------------------------------
I got my first letter from the army back in March, saying that I had to show up at the Draft Board on April 17. By early June, they figured out that I live in Haifa (I've been here since last December) and sent some more letters that actually reached me. I did show up to that first meeting, but they had by that point realized there was a mistake in the address (it still took another month and a half of me constantly repeating "I live in HAIFA" for them to get the new one) and they just told me to go home and wait.
For my [second] first meeting, I spent the first two hours (after the obligatory waiting) giving them my basic information: where I grew up, who my parents are, who to contact in case something happens to me...
It seemed to be much more interesting for the soldiers working there than for me. When I showed them my letter from the Ministry of Education confirming that I have a degree, it was passed all around the office and everyone "Oohed" (or "אווו" I suppose, since they all spoke Hebrew). Then came an interview/Hebrew test, which I hated. The whole morning I was speaking in Hebrew with almost no problem, but as soon as they were testing it, I couldn't say a word.
I was then sent upstairs for the physical. It went fine, except that when I speak Hebrew, especially when I speak badly, I get nervous. So when the doctor took my blood pressure, I guess it was in the "he should be dead" range. Fortunately (?) the doctor realized it wasn't normal for me and told me to get it tested a few more times at the lcoal clinic, then return.
And I have found what must be the worst job in the army. I had felt bad for friends who told me about being stuck on the Jordanian border just watching fish, but that's nothing now. There is a girl whose entire job is to tell people to pee in a cup and return it to her.
For my last stop of the day, I was given a "psychotechnical exam." It was like a pattern section from the SATs - they'd show three shapes and I had to choose from four options which one would complete the set. It was incredibly simple stuff, like "large square, large triangle, small square, ______" (if you're confused, the answer is "small triangle"). I think real Israelis get a more comprehensive test, more like the American army exam.
I was called back a few weeks later and showed them the doctor's blood pressure tests. Between my bad eyes, age (most Israelis are finished with the army by the time they're 21, not entering at 23), questionable blood pressure, and so on... they gave me a perfect health score: 97 out of 97 (no one seems to know why it's out of 97 instead of 100).
I guess this sealed my fate.
For my next (and up to now, last) trip down there, they sat me down with a computer display of my job options and a soldier to explain what they mean. The ten options were: Infantry (Golani, Kfir, Givati, or Nachal brigade), Border Guards, Artillery, Anti-Aircraft, Tanks, Field Engineers, and Field Intelligence.
For each of the ten I had to label how much I wanted them, from 1 (Definitely not) to 5 (Absolutely yes). The only one I was adamant about was tanks, and after I explained my opinion on them (big death traps) to the soldier, she said, "OK, we'll mark that as 0." The rest I was mostly between abivalent to negative about (if it's me vs. a plane, I don't like my odds). And there was a separate section for my top three choices, plus a write-in spot for any profession or degree I may have. I told the girl that I have a degree in music, and her response was to just laugh and say, "Right, you're not doing that." Somehow, the army has decided that I'm going into a combat unit and I have no choice about it.
To be fair, the Field Intelligence sounded quite interesting. It's basically an infantry unit, but when there's "peace" (or what passes for peace around here), they do intelligence. And not just sitting in a basement looking at pictures of roads, but sitting outside with binoculars (all safe though, and all from within Israel). And I've heard very good things about them, so I put that as one of my three choices.
I was then told to just wait for my draft date. As simple as this should be, it's become one of the most confusing parts of the whole process. I've gotten four different צוי גיוס ["call-up papers" I guess would be the translation] with three different dates. The first two said November 4, then December 5, then November 18. And when I got back from America yesterday there was a letter waiting for me saying that they have acknowledged my status as a "lone soldier" (someone with no family in Israel, which means I get a lot of extra benefits), and I should show the letter to whoever is in charge when I get to the base, on November 4.
To settle it all, at least for now, I called up the Draft Board today. It looks like November 4 is my date. So four weeks from today, I'll be a soldier.
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