Regila

I can barely contain my excitement as I sit down to write another blog, whereas normally I write my blogs on a Saturday night, knowing that I need to wake up the next day at a ridiculous hour in order to go back to the army, today it's a whole different story. As of this morning, I am on my 'regila', a five day holiday that a combat soldier gets twice a year. While everyone else in my battalion had their holiday two weeks ago, mine is this week, since my parents are coming to Israel to see me and spend Pesach here. Thus, I not only am relieved to just get some time off from the army, but obviously delighted that I will be with my parents for the whole of Pesach, after not seeing them for four long months.

I have just been in the army for more than two weeks straight, since I stayed on base 'guarding' while nearly everyone else was on holiday. I say 'guarding' because, in fact, what I was doing was standing in front of an empty 'neshekia' (gun storage place) for most of the week, since everyone had taken their guns home. There were six of us guarding last week, which meant we did guarding hours of 2:10 (i.e. two hours guarding, ten hours not guarding). Usually, the second number of hours is filled with scheduled activities, like P.E. or cleaning, however, since most of the commanders weren't there either last week, we had free time for 20 hours of every day for a whole week, something truly unheard of in the army. So, last week I did a lot of sleeping, speaking on the phone and watching movies in the common room. Last week was also weird because some of our old commanders were on base, including mine, doing preparation for officer's course. Now, since there is no 'distance', it was bizarre to sit down at dinner and joke around with the guys who used to make me run to a tree and back fifteen times in a row. You come to realise how your commanders are just nineteen year old boys who put on a face, as part of the discipline that was basic training. I even managed to play football with my old commander last week; and felt guilty when I beat him in 'Wembley singles'!!


Me with my dad and ex-mefaked after my swearing-in ceremony four months ago.


Talking of football and Wembley, I am also in a great mood because, like I requested in a blog recently, Spurs have started winning again and now are going to Wembley for the FA Cup Semi-Final. I do find it slightly fustrating how I owned a season-ticket at Tottenham for 12 years and never saw big European teams at White Hart Lane, but the year that I go and leave England to make aliyah is the same year that we (hopefully) might finish fourth and make it to the Champions League. On that note, there are two stray dogs that like to come and sit near our battalion building, which I have named Defoe and Crouch (Spurs' two strikers)! Also, as I've said before, everyone in the battalion seems to know of and all about me, partly because I'm English and have a funny accent, however, now it seems that every Sunday morning even the commanders are coming up to me and jeering me if Spurs lost or congratualting me if we won!!!

Dressing up in a kippa and 'madei aleph' (smart uniform) for Shabbat last week.


I don't think I have ever mentioned it before but it's defiinitely a big part of army life; 'galhatz'. Galhatz like most phrases in the army is mix of two words to make one word, this one being 'gilooah' and 'tzatzaooah' (shaving and brushing - polishing boots). Galhatz is something that every kravi soldier has to do in the morning as part of the disciplined routine; but also to look like a presentable solider, even on base. Polishing the shoes is something I actually enjoy and is somewhat kind of therapeutic, however, shaving my face is so annoying. Luckily, since I have a babyface, I only need to shave about two times a week (always on a Thursday night before you leave, in order not to get caught by the military police at the bus stations)! I'm also finding it very annoying how all the guys who have girlfriends in my class keep on complaining about how they never get to see them because of being in the army, I wish I could have those sorts of terrible complaints but I'm still waiting to find a nice Israeli girlfriend out here!

There is so much more that I still want to write about in this blog, like how the new March 2010 draft have arrived and how that makes us, Nov '09, not the youngest and inexperienced soldiers in the Tzanchanim brigade. I would want to tell you how I worked in the kitchen all week this week, which is the most horrible week of the year since we were there from 5am to 11pm every day cleaning for Pesach. Also, my weekend in Ein Gedi (!), where we guarded on the beach and spoke to and had our pictures taken by Christian tourists from around the world. What about the depression that I went into at some point last week where I started worrying about if people would leave my Garin and the Kibbutz and where that would leave me, and how I miss all the little things from civilisation that I don't have time or the opportunity to do here. I also wanted to mention how my Hebrew has imporved, mainly in terms of knowledge of rude slang!!


Me at Ein Gedi this weekend, you can just make out Jordan in the back-
ground!


However, I want to end this blog by saying how I just can't wait to relax for Pesach with my parents in Tel Aviv and will try not to think about the difficult times of advanced trainng that awaits me afterwards. Hag Samaech to everyone.

End of basic training

I returned to Ortal yesterday from the army with the news that I had finished 'tironut' (basic training) after a total of nearly four months. It marks the end of a momentous period, a period which is meant to turn me from a citizen into a soldier. I find it hard to believe that I have been in the army for such a long time already and its even crazier to think that I'm done with the infamous basic training of the Israeli army. To top it off, I've had a really great weekend here with my friends, doing some things I haven't done in such a long time; like playing football and sitting down in the sunshine.

The last week of basic training was supposed to be a bore; guarding and kitchen duty, but for me it turned out to be anything but that. While most people did guard all week, some of us were in the shetach, having been specifically chosen to be a part of a special group. I now have a new role, being the sharpshooter for my whole platoon, which means, when in combat formation, I stand in the front with my platoon commander and a few other soldiers. It's kind of scary because in times of war I would literally be on the front line and I have the responsibility of finding the enemy from afar with my scope and take them down with my supposed shooting skills. Personally, I don't see myself as a very good solider, I'm not as much of a team player as I'd like to be (which is extremely vital in the IDF), plus, because of the language, I am sometimes a little bit behind everyone else. Despite this though, it seems to be that every time there is some sort of place to go and new skill to be learnt, I am part of the same trusted group of soldiers who are involved. So, it was another week of shetach in the boiling heat, so much so that at some points we weren't allowed to do anything and were ordered to just sit in the shade. The week was hard but also interesting, however, the worst bit was when I fell over and my gun hit me in the face. What's more is that it caused me to chip my tooth (!), nothing dramatic, just a tiny hole, yet still my first considerable army-related injury!!

The end of tironut also marked the end of some of the commanders' time with us, which unfortunately included my class commander. I was upset to hear that he was going to be leaving as he had been a super commander to me, always looking out for me and helping me with any problems I'd had. One of the most anticipated things when a commander leaves is the 'distance breaking' that occurs, this is when the commander finally stops putting on the 'face' and talks to you like a normal 19 year old. It was so weird to go up and give your commander a hug, the guy who's been teaching and punishing you for the last four months.

The end of tironut makes me think back to my whole journey up till now. I remember the vision of aliyah and the army that I had back in London. I knew it was going to be hard but the reality of what I'm doing is the most difficult challenge I will ever face in my life; to leave my family and friends and the wonderful opportunitites that I had, in order to come here is just the beginning. It's hard to explain the toughness of the army service itself, to be on base for days on end, struggling with a foreign language, trying to fit in with guys who have a completely different culture and, to top it all, being physically destroyed each day with gruelling challenges. How can anyone who hasn't done this truly understand what I've been through and will continue to go through. The reality of life here is so different to the zionist dream that I used to have. However, despite all this, I cannot, for one moment, contemplate about doing anything else than this. Despite all the things I've just said, this experience is the most meaningful and worthwhile thing there is; some feelings are simply undescribable, like finishing a 21km hike with a sprint while carrying a stretcher with your new friends or being offered to have your groceries to be bought for you by this random woman in the supermarket, after she realised I was a lone soldier. To anyone out there thinking about doing this, I would say to think carefully because there will be some very tough times ahead, one where you think to yourself "what am I doing here?" and you just want to go back home. But, come here and do it. I don't for a second regret what I've done because it has been the most amazing experience ever. Although it's been unimaginably hard, I have realised my dream and I can't wait to go on to the next stage.

That next stage is advanced training, four months of combat exercizes, shetach non-stop and the period where the army takes you from a soldier into a fighter. They've told us that the real hard stuff starts now, so what have I been suffering through up till now? The transition to advanced training does come with some advantages however, we can now call our commanders by their first names and there is no more pathetic punishments. Basically, from now on they treat us like fighters, and forget about the pointless rules, which were instilled merely as a way of disciplining us, like folding the gun strap meticulously when holding the gun by your side. Before advanced trianing starts, we are priveliged with a five day holiday, which for me is going to be postponed until Pesach when my parents will be here. So while all the other soldiers have their 'regila' (5 day holdiay) this week, I am back on base tomorrow doing absolutely nothing for a week, apart from maybe going to the dentist....

Global Positioning System

After a sleepless weekend in Hebron, we returned to another week in the army, instead of being on the Paratroopers' base, half of my battalion spent the week on the army's central base for infantry soldiers' training.

The people who went to this base was anyone who was taking a course on learning a new role within the army; from drivers to radio men. Anyone who wasn't getting a new 'pakal' (accessory) would be staying on base to do cleaning work or something like that. Since I'm already a sharpshooter, I assumed that I wouldn't be getting another 'pakal'. However, I soon learnt that I was going to be learning about being a GPS man, which I thought was really weird because I have always been a really un-technical person. Then I found out that the other person in my platoon who was getting the GPS was David, who happens to have made aliyah from Chicago. My suspicion over the new role was confirmed when I was told that the machine is in English, so of course that was the reason for my new job!!

So all week I was on this base learning about the GPS system, the machine and navigation, in general. The lessons weren't really that interesting, but using the machine to navigate was good fun and actually really easy. At first I just couldn't stop laughing in the lessons, for once the shoe was on the other foot as all the Israelis in the course attempted to say 'navigate route', in a terrible accent. The lessons also started to become really difficult for me, I mean I haven't even learnt topographyin English and suddenly I was learning it in Hebrew. The week passed and now I am a certified GPS user, impressed?, I will be able to use my new skills in combat by helping the platoon commander in navigating.

It was an unusual couple of weeks, I have been on five different bases and have constantly been living out of bag, clearly being at the tzanchanim base for three straight months (which is the best base in Israel for infantry and is like a hotel) is obviously having an effect on me. In fact, this last week we slept in tents, which was ok but something I don't really want to get use to, and thankfully, unlike Nachal and Givati who spend all their training in tents, I won't really have to.

Tents, the enemy of tzan-
chanim.


I came back to Ortal this week on Thursday because I went to a memorial service for a fallen tzanchanim soldier, and from the cemetry we were allowed to go straight home. It was the 40th anniversary of the date that this particular soldier had died and every time there is a memorial service like this, tzanchanim send some soldiers to represent the unit and comfort the family. This particular soldier had fallen in the Sinai campaign, after making aliyah with his family from Turkey in the 60s. After learning about this soldier, I was surprised to see that this soldiers' parents were still alive, who must have been at least in their 90s. The service was actually really emotional, seeing these old parents crying at the grave of their son, who died aged 20. It made me devastated to think that this couple had made aliyah, probably escaping from anti-semitism, and then suddenly their son died in defence of this country. I don't want to sound like a preacher or something, but too many lives have been lost for this country and despite all the politics and all the war, all the Jewish nation wants is peace. That was a bit deep, but going to the memorial service and seeing all the Jewish graves made me really think.

This week was also kind of hard because my parents were moving house this week and they've had some problems with it, which has obviously had an effect on me. Although everything will be ok in the end., it's just kind of hard not being able to do anything from this far away. Anyway, for some unknown reason, which has caused the battalion to be in uproar, we have to go back to the army Saturday night, after Shabbat is out!!! Sometimes, I just hate the army.

Purim in Hebron

Once again am back home again after 2 straight weeks in the army. It was a really unusual fortnight, I only spent one night on my base in total; the first week spent at Michve Alon, the weekend in Hebron and last week on a base called Bislach. I did get another 'hamshoosh' (thursday weekend) and I'll explain why in the second blog.

Last week my battalion went to Michve Alon for the week, in order to have an educational week. Michve Alon is the central base for education in the army and also the place where I would have had to have gone to for three months if my Hebrew was not good enough. The Hebrew course that goes on there, which five people from my garin are participating in, is a melting pot for Jews from all over the world who are about to enlist in the army; Europeans, Americans, Russians, Ethiopians and even Indians. It was amazing to think that people are coming here from every inch of this world in order to join the army and do their part.

One of the many strange sights from Hebron!

We had four days of lessons there and was generally a really interesting week, and also a nice break from the all the running of a normal week. We learnt about the history of Israel, what it is to be an 'oleh' (immigrant, but translated as 'going up') and the current enemies of Israel. What was most interesting though was 'dilemnas in combat', two of which I want to talk about. Firstly, we discussed the dilemma of whether to put a soldier, who's Hebrew may not be so good and his potential misunderstanding of orders, which could cause people to die, in combat. As my platoon starting talking about this it started to be directed at me rather than a 'soldier' in general and I felt very weird and sort of guilty that my Hebrew could be a problem in times of war. At the end of the discussion I decided to speak and I said that if there are no risks in war then maybe I shouldn't be allowed to take part. My 'samal' (commanding officer) came up to me in front of the whole class, slapped me ferociously on the leg and said "don't worry Sam, you're going in!", I could only smile at that. There was another dilemna that caused much controversy; whether it is acceptable to take a lemon from the tree of a terrorist you've just captured. I'm sure that in times of war not all the rules are kept to, but I want to explain to you how incredible it is that the IDF strongly teaches its soldiers that it's completely against the ethics of the army, to take as a little as a lemon, as it is morally wrong and not the example that we want to set. We, as a platoon, concluded that it is ok to take the lemon if it has already fallen on the floor!!!

That's how you would look after 3 hours of sleep a night.

The weekend came and, once again, we went to Hebron to help with the guarding there. Coincidently, you may not have heard about it on the news, but Hebron has been a really dangerous place in the last month, with a lot of 'balagan' (trouble) and many incidents. The reason for all this craziness is because the Israeli Prime Minister had put the Cave of Machpelech on a list of construction sites, it was Purim, it was also a Muslim festival (and the Palestinian Prime Minister went to Hebron to pray) and because of the whole Dubai thing. Anyway, it seemed crazy that us lot, who have not even finished basic training yet, were being placed in this hotbed for Palestinian attacks on Israeli soldiers, for the weekend. I guarded at a couple of different places within Hebron, some of which were rather dangerous, for example, I had rocks thrown at me by some Palestinian kids, who were on there way to school!! It is insane to think how last Friday night I was at guard point on a road between a Jewish settlement and a Palestinian village. I was standing there with a loaded gun in my arms, stab-proof vest on my body and some newly learnt Arabic on the tip of my tounge (yes that's right, I can now say 'stop or I'll shoot' and 'go home' in Arabic)! I've come a long way, while my friends are waking up late after a night of partying at university, I have been physically defending the Jews of Hebron and I really feel that I have contributed, even in a small way.

Me (far right) with some of my friends in Hebron.

While the rest of garin apart from me were in Ortal having a Purim party, I, of course was in Hebron, but Purim actually happened to be quite a memorable experience there. During one of my six thousand guard sessions (!) one of the religious guys whose house I was guarding gave me a 'humantashan' (Haman's ear, the cake given on Purim), just one of the many moments when you feel appreciated as a soldier in the IDF. On top of that, we also received Purim gifts that had letters in them, sent from kids in New York; all the guys in my platoon quickly handed them over to me in order to read and translate what was being said. Purim in Hebron was completed when we all heard the Megillah and then danced the night away, which was a fantastic opportunity for us to subtlely break distance with the commanders. In short, although I was disappointed initially to be closing again and missing out on the fun with my garin, it turned out to be a really fun and, also meaningful, weekend in Hebron. To be continued...

Black Hawk

This past week was a really hard one physically in the army, but it marks the end of 'shetach' and 'masaot' for basic training, which finishes in a month. This week, after coming back from a closed weekend in Hebron, we were back in the 'shetach' to do an exercise, whereby we work in a group of four soldiers and capture a hill in a certain way.

The last time I was in the shetach it was extremely cold at night and rainy during the day, which made those weeks a miserable experience, in terms of how we felt being wet and muddy the whole time. Well this week, everything was the opposite as suddenly it became really hot down south, with the temperature reaching the 30s. The heat made all the physical activites that we did, and we did a lot of running, crawling and carrying, a lot lot harder. Throughout the whole week my uniform was soaking becuase of the sheer amount of sweat, while the amount of water that I drunk must have hit the giga-litre mark!! Despite the conditions and the physical effort, it was an enjoyable week, which involved a lot of group bonding within my class and the platoon. All of that bonding was to be tested though, for the masa, which took place on the Tuesday night.

Me with my garin two weeknds ago.

This week's masa, which was led by our platoon commander, whose giant frame makes one of his strides equal to three of mine, was a staggering 18+3km. It was also the last masa that is done at a pace of 6km an hour, which I am ecstatic about as the pace of this masa was nearly unbearable. We now have only about four more 'masaot' before the final one, where we receive the famous red paratrooper beret; and those next four masaot are done at a slower pace but are obviously much longer (I think the order goes something like this 25(km), 34, 50 and 74!!!!). Back to this week's masa, it was extremely tough, especially as I took the water can for one hour (which contains nine 1 and a half litre bottles of water). It's hard to explain here on a blog why the masaot are so difficult; it's a mental and physically challenge, constant walking and running for four hours with a heavy weight on your back. Pain starts kicking in from all sorts of places; from the muscle on your shin (which always starts to strain after the first ten minutes) to the agonising chafing on the inside of your thighs. It did end eventually, but only after the final, gruelling, never-ending kilometres with the open stretchers, but it did finish.

Normally, we finish a masa by returning to the base, but not this week. We went back to the shetach after the masa and slept just four hours before they woke us up to get us back to the base in the morning. The reason for the primitive sleep and early wake-up was worth it though, as we were told that we needed to be ready on time for the day's special exercise... helicopter training. Yes, that's right, on Wednesday we spent the day learning how to enter into a Black Hawk helicopter as a class within 30 seconds. It was truly an experience and one I will never forget, I wasn't scared at all, surprisingly, and I loved every minute of being in the air. We were only up for about 20 minutes in total (10 in the day, 10 at night) but it was incredible. Each helicopter has 4 pilots, all of whom wore the special air force uniform, which had the Israeli flag sewn onto the sleeve (which I immediately noticed when entering the helicopter with my zionist instincts). Also, I saw how inside the Black Hawk, drilled into the side wall, was a 'tfilat haderech' (travel prayer), which only made me beam with pride of the Israeli army. A great day.

Me with the Nachal beret, what I would have looked like if I hadn't of gotten into tzanchanim.

I said in a previous blog that there are 'joys of being a lone soldier', well it doesn't compensate the absence of parents, which for me especially, is by far the hardest aspect of being in the army. I can deal with the no sleep or long hikes (or at least I think I can) but not being able to come home and give me parents a long hug after a really tough week in the army is so painful inside. Despite all the accomplishments I've achieved and all the independancy I've gained, I do still feel like that little mummy's boy that I always was and last week I had a really hard time trying to deal with that fact that I am so far away from my beloved parents. What triggered this was the fact that my parents are moving home next week, after living in the same place for practically my whole life. It's not that I was upset about them leaving our house, which has served faultlessly as a loving home for us for 18 years, as, in fact, the new place is going to be much better for my dad, physically and socially, as well as giving my typically Jewish mum the oppurtunity to spend lots of money on new things. Instead it was the reality that at this important stage for my parents I am not going to be there with them to help with the move or be involved with all the changes. It's something that I am going to have to learn as I am sure there will be more things that I will miss out on: birthdays, anniversaries etc. However, I think I just wanted to say how I miss and think about my parents and close family every single day and, depsite being completely happy where I am now and what I'm doing, I still want to be with them the whole time.

The Jerusalem Post article about me; pinned onto the battalion noticeboard!

On the bright side, that wish will be fulfilled, as my parents will be coming here for Pesach next month, which also marks the end of my basic training (don't forget that I have four more months of advanced training afterwards) and I will be able to spend at least a week them then! The next weeks are the closing period of basic training, which includes a week of education, guard duty and other simple days. I can't believe how I am nearing the end of my basic training; how time has literally flown! Next weekend I am closing again, but should be back here the weekend after to report back on everything I've done. By the way, can Spurs please start winning again! Stay safe everyone and Happy Purim for next week.

Hebron

Am finally home in Ortal after a long and, as per usual, tough 2 weeks in the army (the longest time that I've spent in the army so far without a weekend off!). It was a busy period and I'm going to try and write two blogs, in order to tell you all about the things I got up to in the last couple of weeks.

My stint in the army started with another 'Yom Tarbut' (culture day) to Jerusalem, this time we visited the kotel, city of David and the Jewish quarter within the Old City. It was the first time that I had properly been to the kotel with my uniform and gun, and it certainly was an emotional experience. I felt so proud standing there, at the most important place in the world to Jewish people, knowing that I was saying the Shema while wearing the uniform of the IDF and holding my own gun; both of which are the symbols of the defense of Jews in Israel. Also, I found it extremely weird how all sorts of tourists were coming up to me and my friends trying to take pictures with and of us; just to think how less than a year ago it was me nudging my mum to take pictures of Israeli soldiers because I was too scared to ask them myself.

Last week in the army was advanced shooting, which for me meant advanced sharpshooting, it was a busy week, each day being spent from morning until night in the shooting ranges. One funny incident happened in particular, which only helped to enhance my reputation amongst the commanders as that funny kid from England with the terrible Hebrew accent. There was one excersize where the commander would shout different commands and if it applied to you then you needed to be ready to shoot, for example, "All here who have a sister, shoot!". Anyway, he once said "All those who would let there friends close Shabbat so they could leave, shoot" (i.e. in the army) and, of course, I was the only one who shot. So all the commanders started screaming "who's that terrible friend who just shot?". So I innocently said how all my friends are in university and that I doesn't really count for me. I didn't think it was that funny but they seemed to find it hilarious and one started to squeeze my head in like a loving sort of way! There have been a few moments like that, moments where I clearly stand out from the rest of my platoon, like last week when I counted the press-ups after a 'Madas' (P.E.), in French! Imagine it, all the soldiers in my battalion turning their heads to see what was this crazy thing going on, me, listing my class' press-up count in a very over-exaggerated french accent. Another example of this, is how my initials 'S.S.' are on every single piece of army equipment that I have in huge black markered letters. This obviously includes my gun-strap, and it seems each day someone comes up to me and accuses me of working for the Gestapo.

Weird to think how I'm now part of this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Y-SfbPmQjw.

A couple of people have warned me now that what I have been writing about on this blog is revealing army secrets and that I should be careful. I'm not disagreeing with anyone who thinks that but I think everyone should know a couple of things. Firstly, everything that I am doing at the moment is at the bottom level of IDF security (1 out of 4 levels) and is at a level, where the information is allowed to be told to parents and friends. Secondly, I have not done anything yet which is secretive or will give anything away to Israel's enemies, I doubt that Hamas, if they are reading my blog (!) would gain information from my complaining and winging. Finally, and most importantly, the army know about my blog and if I have written something beyond protocol they would have obviously removed it, like that time when we learnt about the secret *%£*%$", just kidding.

The three

'defenders' of Hebron!

Talking of army secrets I have now actually done something which can't be fully told about on the blog. I am able to say how last weekend I was closed, but instead of being on the base, we were situated in Hebron to assist with guarding there. Naturally, being soldiers who have still not even finished basic training, we weren't doing anything too dangerous, but we were there in Hebron nonetheless helping to guard the area. Due to security (how cool does that sound!!!), I can't say where I was specifically but I can tell you how I was at a guard point, with my commander and two other guiys from my class, which overlooked a certain area. The four of us were stationed at this place and did hours of 3:6 (that's 3 hours of guarding, 6 hours of resting) i.e. our commader left us to do the guarding!! When I say guarding it isn't as exciting as it sounds, it's extremely boring; standing by the radio, watching the view for something suspicious and occassionally walking around the roof that we were on. There were some inspiring moments of the weekend though...

Me and my friend attempting the
"Tinactic" scene as he put it, over the roof in Hebron.

1) Having Friday night dinner (along with candles and kiddush) on the roof, overlooking the lights of the Hebron skyline.

2) Hearing my parents bless me over the phone, while getting ready to stand guard.

3) During my 11pm-2am guard on Friday night, having to open the gate to let in the army truck with the newspapers for the next day, okay so that one wasn't so inspiring.

4) Best of all, receiving an order from the radio to watch over some Jews who were walking home from shul on Saturday morning.

Receving orders on the radio.

It was a hard weekend; mainly because we hardly slept, rested, ate or took off our uniform, so it didn't feel like a weekend at all. However, it was an interesting experience to be there and physically feel part of the protection for the Jewish inhabitants there. We were back on base by Saturday night and ready to start the new week the next morning, which, as I will explain in the next blog, was one hell of a week...

1:02

This weekend is my garin's reunion, which I have been dead excited about all week. Firstly, I got another precious 'hamshoosh'' (Thursday weekend) - I have had so many that I'm starting to feel like a 'jobnik' (non-kravi soldier) - secondly, because it has been another really hard week but, most importantly, since it is the fisrt time that the whole garin will be back here in the kibbutz together and it will be so nice to catch up with everyone, since my garin is like my family here. We have some activities planned for this weekend, one of which is paintballing; after the week I have had, it could be the whole garin against me and I'd still win...

The view from my room - Mount Hermon covered in snow.

As hinted, this week I did lots and lots of shooting, since we were each divided into our roles, mine being 'kala' (sharpshooter). So, I was not with my class at all this past week, instead all the sharpshooters from my battalion were together; as were all the machine-gunnists and grenade-launcher guys etc. At the start of the week, I officially handed back my M16 and received my M4 flat-top, along with both day and night-vision scopes. I said in the last blog that I heard them say the 'Lior' night-vision is worth half a million shekels, well, I completely misunderstood and it's actually worth around $500. This misunderstanding (because of my still very average hebrew) does sometimes happen and it reminded me of a particular incident that happened at the 'tsav rishon' (first draft). In the interview to confirm all my information, I was asked who would get my money if I died (quite a shocking question, but all part of the procedure), so I said my Mum. I remember the soldier suddenly started writing stuff and then asked me "when died my mum pass away?", clearly she had asked me at the start if any close family members had died and because of my mistake, she had to start the whole interview again in order to restart the questions on the computer or something!!!

Me throwing a snowball yesterday with Mount Hermon in the back-ground!!!

Back to this week, I was with the sharpshooters from all three platoons in my battalion, meaning it actually gave me the chance to make some new friends (many of whom already knew me; because of the newspaper article and simply because my name is odd to Israelis and people just know who I am). Everyone thought it was hilarious how I turned up on Sunday with my Austin Powers-style glasses and then went to the shooting range, in order to be a sharpshooter. In fact, I am actually surprised that they let me be a kala, since my eyesight is so bad it nearly caused my profile to be lowered, which would have meant I couldn't have been a combat soldier! This week was spent in the shooting ranges, the whole week, from 8am until 11pm, non-stop, no meals in the dining room - combat rations as a result and, to add to all this, it rained miserably and was freezing. The shooting was fun, especially with the new gun (enhanced vision and tripod legs), and we shot different types of targets, such as, shooting a balloon with one bullet from 300m and moving targets. I shot quite well, especially since all the people there were supposedly the best shooters in the 'plooga' (battalion), and I feel I have earned my right to be a 'kala', confirmation of which is still to be determined by how we performed.

Me with my new gun.

Us 'kalaim' were with a couple of commanders this week, all of whom had been sharpshooters in their early service. In overall charge of us happened to be my 'mefaked samal' (commanding officer), who I have talked about before in the blog. He is an amazing character; small but insanely tough, and he loves to punish us. I both love and hate him because he makes us laugh the whole time but then will give us 40(!) 'smohkum' for being late, a 'smohkum' is a press-up and then jumping in the air and clapping your hands. He excelled in his ways this week, for example, telling us to "go" to the 150m line because we weren't really working, but "go", meant crawling! However, there was one part of this week that I will never ever forget and neither will anyone else who was there. One of the types of shooting we had to do was called 'kriya savlanoot' (patient kneeling), this means being in the kneeled position and shooting 10 bullets over a minimum period of 10 minutes i.e. being ready and fixed on the target as the commander will say "esh" (fire) at any point. The kneeled position is very painful as you sit on your vertical back foot, with gun close to the body and all the time steady with your eye on target. Of course, 10 minutes is the minumum and my commanding officer wanted to make us suffer, so he made us stay in that position for one hour and two minutes...

It's very hard to describe in words what that actually means. After 15 minutes your back leg goes numb and you can't feel your feet. The whole time we needed to be fixed on the target, which meant arms were aching from holding up the weapon and even my eye started hurting from constant concentration. Now this is not my usual moaning of the physical extremes we go through, this was something completely different, something non-human. After one of the bullets, I fell off my back foot and because I couldn't feel anything it was impossible for me to get back up, meaning the gun instructor helped put my foot back into place! It was crazy. I'm not embarrassed to say how at one point I actually cried a little bit from the sheer pain of my legs, shins and feet, and I was not alone, several of these hardcore Israeli boys could not help to shed some tears from this unbelievable sitaution. The battalion medic arrived to make sure we were all ok, as did the battlaion secretary to take pictures of us! Eventually it all finished and when we got up everyone fell back down, since no-one could stand on their feet. We were given about half an hour to do ankle exercises and to try and get the blood back into our legs, I mean, writing about this just sounds ridiculous, but we did it and finished it and I feel great about it now. We found out after, this is the best bit, that the reason for the crazy amount of time was because my commanding officer wanted to break the base record for longest amount of time in 'kriya savlanoot' and we smashed the measly 53 minutes set by Duvdevan a couple of years ago. If you have time just try this position for five minutes and let me know what you think. My commanding officer, what a guy!

This is 'matsav kriya' (kneeling position).

Forgetting all the physical stuff, (which has become increasingly diffcult recently), I am finding the army a really rocky ride. Being away from my parents, family and friends is hard, but just being in the army (especially, combat) is so psychologically tough. No sleep, combat rations (these last few weeks), the language, being timed for everything and the relentless discipline makes it hard for me to always be motivated. Thinking about it now, on the weekend and in civilisation, I am actually coping well, in fact am having a great time, but once you're back on base it all becomes hard again. I am enjoying the army but I just did not realise how mentally tough it was going to be and missing my parents has been extremely painful. By the way, all you people who despise Monday mornings have no idea about the hatred I have for Sunday mornings, it is the worst!

This is my beret pin, which says that I am a foot soldier. This was my prize for doing the 'masa samal' last week.

Next week in the army is advanced shooting (for everyone), which means more long, hard days but that is what happens in basic training, I suppose. I also wanted to say how when walking in Tel Aviv yesterday on my way back up North, it felt so weird holding the gun, because in my head I still feel like that little immature boy from London; and now I am supposed to be this M4-holding, red-boot-wearing, Israeli combat soldier. I don't think I've changed that much in my personality, which I think makes this whole experience so amazing. Today is exactly six months since I made aliyah, in that time I have settled in Ortal, got 3As in my A levels, passed my Israeli driving test, finshed two 'gibushim', successfully arrived at Tzanchanim and 101, and now am well into my basic training. it has been everything I wanted it to be up until now, let's hope things continue like this. Shabbat Shalom.