Waiting for the light to go green...

Sometimes the army can throw at you two of the most contrasting weeks ever, which is what I'm experiencing right now. A mere week ago, I was braving the 'shetach' as part of the tzanchanim brigade-level exercise and partook in a rather exhilirating event, more of which to come later. While this week I am on a course in Tel Aviv learning about the transition from army to civilian life. I warn in advance of the length of this blog...

Like I said in the previous blog, my battalion is now stationed in a base in the Golan Heights, as part of the winter training that the whole brigade is undertaking in over the next two months. Initially, I was happy to be finishing my service during winter training, since it makes me feel like a combat soldier right up to the end of my service due to the extensive and challenging weeks of 'shetach' (field work). However, after experiencing two weeks of it, I am already starting to change my mind! The base is horrible, the difficulty of the 'shetach' looks set to be unlike anything we've done before and, above all and probably most significantly, the weather is dire. Like every factor that affects one's service, the weather being terrible simply has a ten times worse of an effect on things because you're in the army. Feeling hungry or tired is a lot worse in the army than when one is at home and the same is said about both extremes of the weather. Currently in the Golan Heights, it is cold, rainy and windy, and every time I enter the freezing, wet and muddy tent it's hard to stay positive. The weather plays such a crucial part in the 'shetach' as you can imagine; walking with a heavy weight on one's back is a lot less fun when it's pouring with rain and sitting down on your five minute break to drink water suddenly becomes harder than the work itself when the temperature drops to lowly figures. As much as I wanted to enjoy these last couple of months of my service, once we started the 'imun' (training), I realized that I will end up trying to survive this period than revelling in it! As always though, I try to remain upbeat and see this as a challenge and part of the overall experience.

Standing with my 'tik low' before a week of 'shetach'.

The 'tarhat' (brigade exercise) had been on everyone's minds for many months, mainly because of the well known fact that it was to begin with a bridage-wide 'tsnicha' (paratroopers' jump). One would think that anyone in 'tzanchanim' must love jumping since it's part of our brigade's tradition and that we openly volunteered to draft to 'tzanchanim' and even passed a 'gibush' in order to be accepted. Truth be told, most paratroopers hate the jumps and consider the two week jump course (that we do way back in advanced training), as one of the scariest and most unenjoyable parts of their service. Not that I'm trying to sound all macho here, but I honestly loved the jumping and saw it as an incredibly unique skill to learn, in addition to the pure thrill of the activity itself. So while everyone had been quietly hoping for the jump to be cancelled, I had been looking forward to it from the moment I found out it was happening. The reason why this particular 'tsnicha' was such a big deal is because it is the first time in 13 years that the whole brigade has jumped together in one exercise. The new commander of tzanchanim insisted that this huge operation would happen as a way of showing and reminding everyone of the paratrooper brigade's ability to enter behind enemy lines by jumping at night and with all our combat equipment. Only until the day itself and even more when looking back on it and seeing all the media reaction, did I realize the magnitude of the event that took place. Over 1000 soldiers, an entire brigade, parachuted from the air and then re-grouped on the ground to continue the 'tarhat', all this on the darkest night of the year. It's something historic to say the least and I feel lucky to be a part of it and part of this uniuqe section of the army. More than that though, I feel priveleged to be a 'tzanchan' and know that I was one of those who jumped and will jump again if needed, whether that be in training or for real.

Practising how to gear up during the day of jump training.

Now to the jump itself. A few days before the 'tarhat', we were sent to the jump school base, in order to complete a day of training and general refreshing of the whole process. Although I was extremely eager for the jump, as I arrived to the jump school base, I became aware of the fact I had forgotten a lot of things that were taught during the course, which is understandable considering my previous jumps were more than a year and a half ago. After the day's training however, it all came flooding back and I was ready for the 'tsnicha'. What made this jump different from any other jump I've done before was not the fact that it was in the night, it wasn't the fact the whole plane jumps out in one go as opposed to in groups of eight and it wasn't the fact that we jumped with our vests on under the parachute. The only factor from last week's jump that was at all new and that we did for the first time was how we jumped with all our combat equipment and when I say all, I mean everything! I don't think I have ever described this properly in a blog before, but when one does a week in the 'shetach', apart from the vest, gun and helmet, you also take a lot of other equipment; water, warm clothes, waterproofs, torch, food, extra ammunition, too name, but literally, just a few. All this stuff you carry around in a 'tik low' (combat bag is the best I can do to translate even though that's not right) but it is basically like a big rucksack that you haul around all week. For the first time ever, we jumped with the 'tik low' also squashed into the special bag that is strapped to your leg when jumping and this is what made the jump so difficult. My bag was at an average weight until my 'mem mem' (platoon commander) told me that I was his helper for the week (more on which later) and he started to give me extra, excuse my language, crap to put in my bag! From flags and batteries to big torches and smoke genades, it all just added to the weight and when I was finally done I could barely lift the thing...

I assure you, no photoshop effects have been used to increase its size!!!

The day of the 'tsnicha' arrived and my excitement had turned to nervousness; not because of the thought of jumping out the plane but the thought of lifting the anchor that was going to be strapped to my leg! The whole of last Tuesday we sat at this air force base in the south and just waited for the evening to arrive. The 'mahat' (brigade commander) spoke of our readiness for war and of the uniqueness of this brigade-wide jump, but most weren't listening and, instead, were biting their nails in anticipation of what was to come. As the sun began to set, we made our way next to the tarmac and went through the extensive saftey drills and procedures and then, geared up; vest, parachute, reserve parachute and the bag with all our equipment. After more saftey checks, we sat down and waited, in customary fashion, for a our plane to pick us up. My company was the 6th plane of the 20 used for the whole brigade and I was eighth in line of the left door from my plane. The short walk from where we were sitting down to the tarmac and then up into the plane became an almighty effort for those, including myself, who could barely lift their equipment bag. As we took off, I was more distracted by the weight of the bag and the excruciating back pains I was subjected to, than the whole experience and looking back on it now, I am annoyed that I was unable to enjoy and take it in more. The instruction to stand up and be prepared was given, but I struggled to stand straight because of the pressure the equipment bag was putting on my back and although I've been very lucky not to have had back problems so far, I really was suffering on the plane and felt like my back was going to explode. In the end, I was just desparate for my turn to come so I could just jump and not worry about the weight of the bag! Finally, the light did turn green and, as they say the rest is history. What they fail to say though is how I landed straight on my back and right into the middle of a thorn bush!!! The jump was amazing though, just how I had remembered it (http://samsank.blogspot.com/2010/06/first-out-of-plane.html) and was, by far, the best bit of the whole week.

Here is a news video - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=johchNldcT4&sns=fb and an article - http://www.jpost.com/Defense/Article.aspx?id=254181 about last Tuesday's jump.

As much as the 'tsnicha' was a massive deal, it was only the start of what turned out to be a two day week of 'shetach' involving the whole brigade. It was by far the biggest army operation I have ever witnessed, the amount of soldiers and behind-the-scenes people involved was phenomenal and it is rumoured to have cost over seven million shekels. With all the manpower and equipment involved, it really felt like we were going to war, which is pretty much what the exercise is aimed at recreating. Following the jump (41 out of 1000 were injured from the jump, a relatively low figure), each person had to unpack all his gear, carry it on his back and start to navigate from wherever he landed to each company's specific meeting point. Once everyone had arrived, we then started the 'tarhat' and the initial walk, which turned out to be a 17km-sand-dune-torture that lasted all night. That first 24 hours of the 'tarhat' was one of the toughest days I've been through in the 'shetach'; the combination of the ugly landing, weighty load on my already painful back and harsh terrain all assisted in pushing me to me mental and physical limits that night. I remember thinking at the time how I once received a critical comment here on the blog for my belligerance of 'jobnikim' (non-combat soldiers), yet what I was going through that night only reitterates the verifiable truth that no one can comprehend the kind of stuff us combat soldiers go through. There was really a point that night where I had lost all sort of mental strength and was honestly ready to quit, but, like always, you continue and struggle and fight your way until the next water break or next day or next year. That is purely the way of the 'lohem' (fighter) in the IDF and shows why we are so strong together. The second half of the 'tarhat' was a lot better for me and undertaking the exercises as the 'mem mem's helper helped to make it an interesting week in the 'shetach' all in all.

The 'mahat' (far left) walking onto the plane before his jump, funny how he doesn't have an equipment bag...

I know I am going on a bit now but bare with me. Going through a week in the 'shetach' as a soldier in the IDF is only something that one who has been through himself can truly understand. There are both thought processes and actions that seem to become normal in the 'shetach' that in public life would be considered totally irregular. For example during the 'tarhat', since I was the 'mem mem's right hand man, I was close by to him throughout the whole two days and in the breaks from walking we would end up spooning together on the ground as a way of keeping warm!!! Of course, it wasn't just us, everyone was snuggling up to the guy next to him and in the harsh reality of the 'shetach' it was totally normal to hear one guy, a giant machine-gunner, saying to his 'shetach' partner "why aren't you cuddling me already?"!!! Going through these almost inhumane circumstances together is what builds the friendships between soldiers and its only with these Israeli guys from my platoon that I share these insane experiences.

Yet, after all that misery and pain, this week I am on a workshop for lone soldiers, where we learn about what we face once we are released from the army. Apart from beng very helpful, it happens to be in Ramat Gan (a fifteen minute bus ride from my house) and is 'yomiyot', meaning I am sleeping at home every night this week! So while last week I jumped out of an aeroplane and did 'tarhat', this week I am living in luxury and feel like a real 'jobnik' by doing 'yomiyot' close to my house; maybe it is better to be a 'jobnik' after all...

Some pictures from the 'tarhat'...

Living in the "lighthouse"

After spending the whole of Chanukah in Tel Aviv with my parents and grandparents, I have been in the army for the last couple of weeks and am now on a weekend off. The fortnight just passed in the army also marked the transition from the 'kav' in the West Bank to the 'imun horef' (winter training) for the whole brigade.

I had only just returned to my company last month, but within two weeks of being with them, I left to go on 'meyuhedet' (special holiday for lone soldiers) as my family came to israel to spend Chanukah with me in Tel Aviv. Like every time, it was incredibly special to be with my parents, and this time with my nana and papa too. Although I do see my family relatively often in comparison to other lone soldiers for example, this doesn't take away from the fact that we are an exceptionally close family who solely miss each other and any time spent apart is emotionally painful. We take advantage of all the time we are together and I have been particularly lucky throughout my service, in the sense that every time someone has been here I have been given time off to see them. We were in Tel Aviv for the whole of Chanukah and then saw in the new year together. Looking back on 2011 and I can't help to think how much I've done in twelve months. I started the year in Gaza and despite working hard as a youngster in the company and closing a lot of weekends as part of 17:4, 'kav' Gaza still gives me fond memories and was a very enjoyable part of my service. As much as I loved being in my platoon and company, going to 'makim' (commanders' course) was arguably the most important and significant event in my whole service, as I've explained on many occasions. Once I'd finished 'makim', the rest of 2011 was filled up by my three roles as a commander on the tzanchanim training base. Sandwiched between all those jobs, I went back to my company, where I experienced 'imun' in the Golan Heights, as well as both 'kav' in the north and in the West Bank. On top all of this time in army, going back to London was a very memorable month and the big move to Tel Aviv and the consequent weekends have made 2011 a fantastic year for me.

Am once again back to being a 'kala' (sharpshooter)...

Now moving onto 2012, which will arguably be the most important year for me since making 'aliyah', as it has huge significance on my future. The biggest thing for me this year is obviously my release from the army, which happens in mid April. Finishing the army is now becoming a scary reality, as opposed to a distant thought, and it's still very hard for me to comprehend that in three months I will have completed my two and a half year service in the IDF. One of my good friends from the platoon, Daniel, who happens to be a lone soldier from Canada, gets released this month and watching him go through the final processes of the army, only emphasizes for me that my 'shihrur' (release) is only round the corner. For more than two years now I have been a soldier and the thought of being "free" makes me feel anxious rather than relieved. The army has not always been easy or enjoyable and I have shared the culture of counting down the days (even from the start) and yearning for freedom that every soldier feels from the moment he receives his 'hoger' (army ID card). However, since I have volunteered to serve in the army and am not entirely familiar to real life in Israel beyond the olive green uniform, being released is a daunting development. The transition from soldier to civilian is not a simple one, even more complicated for a lone soldier, what with the endless list of post-army arrangements, like health insurance and social security to name but a few. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to start life here in Israel beyond the army, but for more than two years now I have had everything provided for me. Whether it's food, clothing, accommodation, medical care or financial income, the army takes it upon itself to care for all the needs of every soldier and to suddenly break free from this can be a big shock to the system. With April coming around in just a few months, this is all getting a lot more real for me now.

Overlooking the Golan Heights with my new samal.

After saying goodbye to my parents, I returned to my company and to what was our last week of the 'kav' (deployment) in the West Bank. In fact, it was my last ever week of 'kav', as I will be released before the battalion moves from the 'imun' to the next 'kav'. Therefore, it was quite a poignant week for me, since I have spent time on three different deployments; Gaza, Lebanon border and the West Bank. In general, 'kav' can be both your best and worst enemy and last week typified what 'kav' is all about perfectly. So for my last ever week, I was in a 'fillbox' (guard tower) adjacent to a road leading to a prominently hostile Palestinian city. A better description is that for four days, me and three other guys from my platoon, lived, slept, ate and guarded in a lighthouse-style building with conditions inhabitable even for animals. However, it has now become a memorable week for the four of us as we simply had so much fun. That is 'kav' for you; the conditions aren't great, you're away from home and you don't shower for a week, but if you're with good guys, you can make the most out of the situation and have a good laugh, which is exactly what we did. Apart from the hilarious antics we got up to inside the "lighthouse", last week also gave me another taste of the hands-on experiences that happen in the West Bank. One evening we were told to open a check post for the cars driving past our 'fillbox', as part of a standard stop-and-search policy. Being a qualified commander, I was the one who checked the drivers' ID cards and car boots if I felt necessary. I have to admit that I felt very powerful standing there in full combat gear, speaking to Palestinians and giving them instructions. I didn't abuse my power at all, but I did feel at the time that it was one of the most obvious examples of how I've physically helped to defend this country and I couldn't help but feel extremely proud and Zionist with the contribution that I was making. Due to my Arabic being fairly limited and some Palestinians' Hebrew not being strong too, there were occasions where I spoke in English to them. It seemed funny to ask them in my British accent to turn off the engine or to wish them a pleasant evening, but they seemed to understand me perfectly!!!

The infamous "lighthouse"...

After being switched by other soldiers on the 'kav', my company moved to a base in the Golan Heights with the rest of the battalion, where we'll be situated for the next three months, as part of the 'imun'. If a combat brigade is not in 'kav' then it is in 'imun' (training) and this will be my second full 'imun', having missed one when I was in 'makim'. The base we moved to is actually one we've been to before and will be the last base that I'll be on! It's quite unusual to go back to the same base and we are all unhappy to be going to this particular one as it means sleeping in tents, especially since we'll be there during the harsh winter of the Golan. The point of the 'imun', like every training period, is to prepare the battalion for whatever is to happen by doing lots of field exercises and improving the soldiers' fitness. It basically means many weeks of 'shetach' (field work), with exercises at platoon level, all the way up to brigade level and everything in between. There will also probably be urban combat and guerilla warfare too! The tzanchanim brigade commander has said that he's planned this 'imun' to be the hardest in history, on the account of trying to make us prepared for anything. With his psychotic appetite and the weather being a factor too, it could well be the hardest period of my whole service physically and just the thought of those weeks of 'shetach' makes my teeth chatter and shoulders ache in anticipation. I do think, however, that it is fitting and suitable that I finish my service in this way. I could have ended my service on 'Course Nativ' (a two month course where you sit in a classroom and learn about Israel) like many other lone soldiers do, but instead I want to finish by echoing (and fittingly, by suffering) what I've done during my whole service; being a combat soldier. Also, with the next couple of months looking set to be potentially the hardest and most depressing of my whole service, it will make the 'shihrur' even sweeter!!!

So for my final stretch in the army I have a few months of awful weather, painstakingly hard weeks of 'shetach' and the joy of being on one of the worst kept army bases in Israel, but I wouldn't want in any other way! This coming week is the first proper round of 'shetach' of the 'imun' and it's a big one; a field exercise performed by the whole brigade, which is supposed to start with a 'tsnicha' (paratrooper jump!!!). So for the next blog, I could be reporting back having done my sixth and final jump; just need to remember to keep my feet together when I land...

If the description of the "lighthouse" was insufficient, then check this out...

http://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?v=10150464961028871&set=vb.510628870&type=2&theater

Vatikim!!!

For the first time in a long time, I really appreciate being home for the weekend. In recent months, I have become somewhat accustomed to getting out of the army for Shabbat due to the numerous 'tafkids' (jobs as a commander) and due to my general luck. However, having finished the latest 'tafkid', I have since returned to my company and have been on 'kav' this last week, where I closed my first Shabbat in a very long time!

Finishing the job as a commander in 'trom tironut' last week, meant separating from my soldiers (all 51 of them!!!) after being with them since the middle of November. I was the soldiers for a couple of days at the start of last week and tried to be as mean and unapproachable as possible, in order for the "breaking distance" ritual to be worthwhile. On the final morning, in the twenty minutes leading up to the point where they went to their respective, new companies, I even decided to unfairly punish them, ('kader' in Hebrew), by giving them absurd and repetitive orders. I have to admit, it was fun making them run back and forth from a fence in under 30 seconds over and over again. Those who were still injured from the 'gibush' the week before didn't escape my wrath either and they got put in 'matsav shtayim' (press-up position) while the others ran. Once I finished with that nonsense, I sat them all down and proceeded to tell them all about me. They obviously gathered that I had made 'aliyah' (undoubtedly from the moment they heard me speaking!), yet it was nice to fill them in on my whole story and see that some of them were impressed by the fact their first ever 'mefaked' in the army had been a new immigrant and a lone soldier. What makes "breaking distance" with the soldiers so entertaining is both the commander and the soldiers seem to recreate all the funny moments that happened and retell all sort of incidents that the other side didn't know. Just like I did when I was in that stage of the army, my soldiers were all desperate to hear of the times where myself and the other commanders simply cracked up and failed to control ourselves with laughter in front of them. It was an exceptionally rewarding and enjoyable couple of weeks and I wish them all luck with the rest of their service.

Moments after "breaking distance" with my soldiers.

So my time of being on the 'Bach' as a commander, which had stretched to a total of two months, had finally come to an end and, thus, last week I returned to my company, who are currently in the middle of a 'kav'. I was excited to go back to my company and see all the guys from my platoon, especially as I've not been with them consistently for more than two weeks since before I went to commanders' course (and that was in March!). It was great going back and after receiving a warm welcome from everyone in the 'pluga' (company), I then heard all the stories and gossip that had been going on while I was away and I recounted all my experiences from the past couple of months too. Before too long, I felt like I slipped back into my old place within the platoon and was quickly integrated into the life of 'kav' once again; albeit thanks to almost immediate hours of guard duty upon my return! It was very easy to get back into the swing of things and, despite only being here for a little over a week, I am well accustomed to this 'kav' already. My 'pluga' is currently situated next to a Jewish town, which is surrounded by Palestinian villages and not to far away from a substantially large Palestinian city. Effectively this is 'kav eyosh' (meaning Judea and Samaria), but it's not necessary for me to say on the blog where exactly in the West Bank we are. 'Kav' in the West Bank is completely different from what I've experienced in any of the other deployments of my battalion. Whereas in Gaza and in Lebanon where the border is very clear; whereby we are on one side guarding, whilst the acknowledged enemy is on the other trying to attack, in the West Bank things aren't so clear cut. There's no way I can go into the details of what this current 'kav' entails, but I can say that in the West Bank the enemy can be slightly unclear, while the borders are, to a degree, ambiguous. In short, with all the comings and goings, the West Bank can seem like a bit of madhouse but the IDF is still very coherent in its role of protecting Jewish inhabitants from any threat. After being on the 'Bach' and at home(!) for such a great deal of time, it was refreshing to go back to being a soldier in the "real army" out there on the front line.

Watching the "El classico" football match with my platoon.

The most exciting development that happened within my 'pluga' while I was away, is that my 'mahlaka' and draft, in general, have entered the final year of their service. Finishing two years in the army means that Nov '09 (my draft) and this feels so unbelievably good to say, are finally 'vatikim' (veterans)!!! Even just writing it here on the blog, I can't help but smiling when I write that we are, at long last, 'vatikim'. The significance of being veterans is, in no way, a paltry thing. For more than a full year now, after joining the battalion following our 'sof maslool', the Nov '09 platoon has suffered as the youngest platoon in the company. For twelve months and over three different 'kavs', we have been the grim victims of kitchen and company duties, as well as being deprived of certain privileges that only veterans are entitled to. I think I have explain sufficiently enough in previous blogs, most prominently during my time in Gaza, how kitchen and company duty can be extremely depressing, degrading and is often backbreaking work. But no more will I clean toilets from the inside, no more will I paint bags of sand red and white and no more will I scrub pots and pans for hours on end. Not doing anymore kitchen or company duty makes a big difference to life on 'kav' and to the morale of the platoon, as suddenly there is no pressure on who needs to be a 'toran' (person performing those duties, but in the army this could be more easily translates as simply 'slave') and you don't have the fear of knowing that your turn is tomorrow! It's not easy seeing the younger platoon suffering now, but this is just part of the "army cycle of life", whereby you have been through it all before. One of the other benefits of being a veteran is how we are now permitted to wear a dressing gown/robe. It may be hard for anyone who's not familiar with the insane institute that is army culture to contemplate this, but that is just the way things are. Consequently, my platoon ordered specially-made robes and each soldier has the robe personalized with their name...

My robe!!!

I was on 'kav' for exactly six days, but that was more than enough for me to be bored of this 'kav' already and of life back in the battalion. Yes, it's fun being back with the guys, and having free time to watch movies and play football. In addition, being a veteran and a 'hapash' (regular soldier) means I now have very little responsibility and life on 'kav' is relatively laid back. On the other hand, though, after two months of being a commander, going back to doing three hours of static guard duty in the middle of the night seems somewhat less meaningful. As much as I'm back on the front line and physically safeguarding a Jewish town in the West Bank, guard duty and mounted patrols can still be very boring and monotonous. I have come to realize that the best thing to have happened during my service was, without a doubt, going to course 'makim' (commanders' course). Although I was skeptical about it when picked to go and completely against it before that, I see now that going to 'makim' and becoming '08' transformed my service 180 degrees for the better. Take aside completing the course, becoming a more professional soldier, meeting soldiers from all the other brigades and of course having three roles as a mefaked, this week I've come to understand that going to 'makim' was beneficial for another reason. It's been nearly a year now since I left to go to course 'makim' and, in the time that has followed, I have barely been in the 'gdud' (battalion) for more than three weeks at a time. Being a 'hapash' and staying in my company for the remainder of my service, hopelessly lumbering through 'kav' after 'kav' is what I feared before I recognized that going to 'makim' was some sort of escape from the dreary and repetitive life of being a 'hapash' in the 'gdud'. In the time that I've been away from my company over the last year I have avoided nearly twelve months of being a 'toran', twelve months of static guard duty and twelve months of 17:4. There are obviously guys within my platoon and combat soldiers in the army, in general, who do stay in the 'gdud' for the whole of their service, yet I am relieved not to have endured the same repetitive lifestyle throughout mine and by going to 'makim' (and the significance of being '08'), I have a different and more meaningful purpose to my service. Needless to say, I am very happy to be here with my platoon for the four months that I'm left with and I will perform in my role as a veteran 'hapash' as best as I can.

All in all, it was a good couple of weeks. Finishing the 'tafkid' and returning to my company after months of absence has been undeniably pleasant, with the highlight of the week being how, as part of my company's 5-a-side team, we managed to get through to the final of the regional army football tournament. There's only a few more weeks of this 'kav' remaining so I'll post a blog then. In the meantime, happy chanukah to you all!!!

ADF (American Defence Forces)

This weekend, while my soldiers are almost certainly telling their family and friends all the stories and experiences from their first ever week in the army, here I am to tell my side of the story...

What an exhausting week! I don't think I've ever worked my socks off like I did in these last five days and the 'tafkid' (role), without me knowing why, was simply ten times harder than when I was a commander of the same job, a little over four months ago. Primarily, the sheer number of soldiers around was simply staggering; both at the 'Bakkum' (the base where one drafts for the first time) and at the 'Bach' (paratrooper training base) the newly drafted tzanchanim were everywhere! I didn't think it was possible that I would overtake the number of soldiers I had last time, 42, but by the end of the week, once late-comers and others had been added, I was left with a grand total of fifty two (!) soldiers, all of whom called me today to inform me that they had arrived home safely. This draft of tzanchanim, November '11, is the biggest in the brigade's history and this only added to the work we already had. Doing this 'tafkid' meant that once again I was back at the 'Bakkum' to meet the draftees on the day they turned from civilians into soldiers. It is a dramatic transition and one of the most extreme instances of a 180 degree change in one's life that I can think of. After getting their army ID and having some injections, they then are given their brand new uniform, in which they change into. Within twenty minutes, as they stand there shell-shocked in the olive green uniform of the IDF, their world has been turned upside down and the first person they encounter on the "other side" is me!!! I did my best to ease them into that first day at the 'Bakkum', while at the same time constantly reminding them that they were soldiers now and the significance of that. This meant, even from the start, I needed to keep them disciplined; making sure they walked in lines, were presentable at all times and when speaking in front of me, addressed me as their commander accordingly, by calling me "Mefaked" and standing straight with their arms behind their backs. It all sounds a bit silly and like something out of a movie, but that is what basic training is like and can even feel like somewhat of a game, however, as a commander, you need to play that game.

No space in the rooms for us means sleeping in the corridor...

In addition to the fact that this was the biggest draft in tzanchanim's history, November '11 also marked the biggest ever draft of lone soldiers and 'olim hadashim' (new immigrants) to the paratroopers' brigade. Even though my draft is only two years prior to this current one, the difference in the amount of lone soldiers is simply overwhelming and if my mathematics are correct then there are something like six times the number of lone soldiers now, compared to in November '09! The reason for this dramatic rise is not unknown, in fact, I heard it from the horse's mouth itself, in a speech made by the 'Bach' commander to us, the commanders, in which he explained how tzanchanim were aiming to recruit more lone soldiers and new immigrants because they understand that they are generally the best and most virtues of soldiers. Coming from the 'Bach' commander himself, this is a compliment and credit to programs like Garin Tzabar and Machal that bring lone soldiers over to Israel, as well as being a tribute to all lone soldiers in the army. I wouldn't say that I'm famous, as a lone soldier or in general, but due to a mixture of this blog, the "small world" nature of the army and the fact that I have been around the army a bit (different courses, kavs and jobs), it has made me a little bit well-known within the "lone soldier world" of the army at least. Thus, they were a couple of instances this week were I was recognised by some of the new lone soldiers, who had either heard of me or read this blog. At one point while I was walking with my new soldiers (of whom I am at distance with), another new soldier shouts out, in a strong American accent "I know you, you're Sam Sank"!!! While my soldiers stood in both shock and amusement, I took him aside and then spoke to him in English for a few minutes and told him that I would help him with whatever he needed. When it comes to soldiers, I am definitely bias towards my own kin!!!

Myself and another 'mefaked' talking to some of the soldiers, unveknownst of are half attire!!!

Being a commander of these sort of soldiers is extremely difficult. When I say these sort of soldiers, I mean newly-drafted, inexperienced soldiers who are in shock from the new surroundings of being in the army and some of whom think they are still in civilian life but at a summer camp or something. One of the aspects of my role is to make sure that these guys know exactly where they are now and that is a working, discplined army, whereby combat soldiers are trained hard and face consequences for their actions. This week, I was forever reminding my soldiers of the procedures of army life; whether that be by telling them to tuck in their shirts or by checking on every single thing that they are told to do. Since they are so "young", it is impossible to trust them, not because they are not trustworthy (although some of them are not), but since they are so unfamiliar to how things work that, as one who is experienced in the army, I need to make sure that everything is done to the standards set by the army. This continuous notion of giving orders and then checking and correcting the final result is what made my week so draining and difficult, in terms of the workload. For those soldiers who were still acting with a civilian "head", my job was therefore to change that into a soldier's mindset and this ultimately meant disciplining them. I have to say, although it's never nice to see someone else suffer as you once did or in general, for me, as a lone soldier, it was very much amusing to see myself barking orders in Hebrew at these new recruits who had yet to "reset themselves" (as the army expression goes).

Phones I had confiscated from soldiers, who were using them during the day. Israel has gone iPhone crazy!!!

My most memorable moment during the last 'trom tirnout' when I was a commander, was probably the night of the 'gibbush' where I sent off my soldiers to three days of hell, after I gave them an Al Pacino style, inspirational speech and then marched them onto the basketball court before embracing each soldier. This time, the "night of the gibush" was also as memorable, but for totally different reasons. Before leading them to start the 'gibush', I was my soldiers for an hour or so to help them prepare their equipment and get them all organised. That night, however, must have been one of the coldest nights in Israel's history because I could barely function properly! Due to the upcoming 'gibush' the soldiers were forbidden to wear anything underneath their uniform as a health measure, on the other hand, I was wearing about five layers and was still freezing my bum off!!! As I then proceeded to lead them to the basketball court, I thought of the three excruciating days they had in front of them and how cold I was. Sometimes I wish I could turn back time and just re-live my whole service again because I've had the most incredible experience. This was definitely not one of those moments. After we had handed them over to those responsible for the 'gibush', along with the other commanders, I ran back to the rooms and got straight back into bed and under my covers. Sometimes it's great being commander!!!

So it was another terrific and meaningful fortnight. A lot of the times when I have been a commander, have been the most fun and most momentous throughout my whole service. This week will now probably be the last time I'll hear "Mefaked Sam", as after this 'tafkid' is finished, I am going back to my company and back to 'kav'. So I'll be sure to make it a good week...

Communal Crossword

The soldiers, of which I have been responsible for over the last few weeks, are now settled in 'makim' (commanders' course) and, as a result, signals the end of my latest role as a commander. I am home for the weeekend now but am once again at the 'Tzanchanim Bach' (training base for paratroopers) next week to start yet another job as a commander.

For the last fortnight I have been situated at the 'Bach' where I have been a commander for soldiers who were preparing to go to 'makim'. It wasn't the most strenuous couple of weeks I've ever had and, at times, the work I was doing seemed more like that of a babysitter than that of a 'mefaked' (commander). Nevertheless, I did have some responsibility and tried as best I could to have as much of an influence as possible on the would-be commanders. I felt this most during the week of navigations, where I taught and advised my soldiers the process of navigating; from reading a map, to learning how to understand and identify the terrain. For me, it was important passing on the knowledge I had to younger soldiers (some of whom may even go on to be company commanders or even higher) and I may even have a lasting influence on them, since it was their first handling of the skill. In a sense, it is a way of giving back to the army, but, more evidently, it shows the successful way in which the army works; how one generation of commanders teach the next generation and so on. In both the jobs I have had as a 'mefaked' so far, despite being temporary ones, both have had a significant influence on me and have made me feel proud of the work I've been doing. In both 'tafkids' (roles), I have played the sort of chaperone role, in the way that I have taken soldiers and got them prepared for that next step; whether it was for basic training or for 'makim'. Like, I said these 'tafkids' aren't considered prestigious like that of being a commander of basic training, however, I am very much appreciative of the opportunity I have had, especially as a lone soldier, of being a commander and affecting younger soldiers' army service.

With my soldiers the night before they left for 'makim'.

For the last night of this 'achana l'makim' (preparation for commanders' course), the overall commander of the whole paratroopers' brigade came to talk to the soldiers about the step they are taking and what that means for the rest of their service. It was a speech I've heard before during my 'achana l'makim', albeit by the previous brigade commander, but his words of leadership, responsibility and authority still inspired me greatly. However, it was his admiration and pride of the tzanchanim brigade that really affected me and reminded me how special and formidable the paratroopers are. On one distinct note, he spoke how no one can know what lies ahead, but if one day, by some certain circumstances, soldiers were needed to be dropped in enemy territory to protect our land, then it us who will take on that incredible duty. By passing jump school, each and every one of us paratroopers are qualified to undertake operational jumps and we proudly show off this qualification through the wings on our uniform. More than that though, it was his sheer confidence in the army as a whole and his way in explaining that the IDF is the modern-day bodyguard for the Jewish nation and how we will stand up and defeat any obstacle that comes our way. In no way was his promoting war, rather instilling in us the exhilirating pride to be wearing the IDF uniform and protecting this country. It is those sorts of speeches that make him a brigade commander!!!

This is me when I started the army; my uniform is fresh from the packaging and has no form of pins or tags. But a lot has changed in two years...

The 'tafkid' officially finished this morning and as my soldiers went off to the base for 'makim', I took the train home with one of the other commanders. On our train journey home, my friend and I decided to do the daily crossword from the newspaper, which happens to be my latest hobby (despite the fact I am rubbish at them since I can barely understand the clues and can only answer the questions which asks for capital cities). When we strated to struggle in a couple of the clues, the man sitting next to me looked very intrigued in what we were doing and helped out with some answers. Before long, the girl next to my friend had also joined in and the four of us completed the crossword together (at one point the girl grabbed the pen from my hand to fill in a clue!!!). It made me think how nothing of the sort would ever happen in England, where complete strangers would come together and interact on a very friendly basis. This is one of just many, in fact countless, instances I have witnessed since living here in Israel, where people simply help out each other; with hitchhiking being the obvious example. Even when calling out for someone on the street, to ask for directions or pass on something, one says "achi", which translates as 'my brother'. I have come to realise that the Israeli society is based on a mutual care for one another, most likely derived from the fact that Israel has been in difficult situations where everyone sticks together and pulls through as one. I also think it's a combination of the charitable nature of the Jewish community and the uncanny 'chutzpah' (cheekiness/audacity) of Israelis. Whatever it is, following the empowering speech from the brigade commander the night before, I realised how strong Israel is and how we will overcome anything. Feeling extremely zionist, I then proceeded to walk home in Tel Aviv's heavy rain, in what seemed an unusually pleasant and fitting reflection of how I was feeling.

... now, two years later, my uniform has changed dramatically, with the addition of pins, the beret and ranks!!!

As I said at the start of this blog, I am continuing on the 'Bach' to do yet another temporary 'tafkid' and for the next three weeks I will be a commander of 'trom tironut' (the same job I had three months ago) for the November '11 draft of tzanchanim. Once again, this means I will be a 'mefaked' of a large group of newly-drafted paratroopers in their first two weeks of being in the army. The last time I did this 'tafkid' I had one of the best periods of my whole service and absolutely relished the opportunity of being a 'mefaked' for the first time. This time, I am equally as happy to take on the challenge once again, although the novelty of being a commander has ever so slightly worn off. I was, however, somewhat looking forward to going back to my company, seeing my friends and experiencing the current 'kav', which is in the West Bank. Although, I will still get to go to 'kav' when this job is finished, I was ready to leave the 'Bach' and get back to the "real army". In saying this though, I would never turn down a job of being a 'mefaked' and, of course, there is the 'oketzing' that comes with it; I'll be out for next three consecutive weekends! Being a commander in 'trom tironut' for the November draft is even more significant for me, not only because the soldiers coming in will be my "grandchildren" but also because there will be loads of lone soldiers from Garin Tzabar. To think I might be the first ever 'mefaked' of some guys who have made aliyah would be a big deal for me. I'll just have to wait and see who I get next week...

So that was pretty much my last couple of weeks. On Sunday I am back on the 'Bach' in preparation of the new draft, which happens on Thursday, after which I will be with my new soldiers for two weeks. I'm sure I'll do another blog at some point and share with you all the experiences of this next 'tafkid'. Three more weeks of being "Mefaked Sam", I just love it...

Staff Sgt. Sank

Once again I have found myself at the 'Bach Tzanchanim' (training base for paratroopers), this time as part of a new temporary job as a commander. While the rest of my company starts a new 'kav' in the West Bank, I have been living it up for the past couple of weeks.

The moment we were all waiting for...

First things first, however. Thankfully, our prayers were answered last tuesday, when Gilad Shalit was released from captivity after five years and four months. I doubt there is one person reading this that did not know of his release or watch the events of last week unfold. For me personally, it was a joyous and highly emotional day. On the day itself, I left the Bach in the morning, in order to go home for the second part of Sukkot and the weekend that followed. That morning, along with the other commanders who I'm with in this current 'tafkid' (job), we arrived at the central bus station in Tel Aviv, in order to go home. We were all very agitated to get home and sit in front of the TV to see everything that was going on. As we walked over to the platform we needed, there was a big crowd blocking our way. Those who are not familiar with the bus station of south Tel Aviv, should understand that a huddled crowd in that area is commonplace and normally means some sort of incident involving misbehaving drunkards and the resulting containment by the police. Thus, I assumed it was another of those mishaps, but as I walked past, I realized that everyone was crowded round this tiny television inside a cafe that was showing the news. It was still quite early in the morning, so it was a long time before Gilad arrived in Israel, yet tens of people were fixated to the screen, in order to get an update on the situation. It reiterated to me the importance of last week's events to every single person in this country. I spent the rest of the day glued to the TV at home and I am not ashamed to say that when I saw the footage of him saluting the prime minister while exiting the helicopter in full uniform, I had genuine tears in my eyes. Without entering the debate about his release and the prisoners we sent back, seeing him back home in Israel is truly ground-breaking, in terms of what this country does for each and every one of its citizens. I could literally write a whole blog on how much this means and it was undoubtedly, one of the most momentous days in Israel's history and is fantastic to see him home.

The soldier returns home and is received by the Chief of Staff.

After such a deep and touching subject, it's hard to move on to talk about the rest of my week but, just like Gilad needs to try to move on and live a normal life, so will the contents of this blog. A few days after my return from London marked my two year anniversary of being in the army. This means a couple of things; primarily, that I have only got six more months left of service. Finishing four fifths of my total time as a soldier is astounding and now (but not during the past two years) it seems to have flown by! Now that I am two years into the army, in the addition to the fact I am qualified '08' (commander), I therefore move up a rank from sergeant to staff sergeant, with the official translation of the rank 'samal rishon' being "sergeant first class"!!! Now I have the 'samal rishon' rank sewed on my 'madey aleph' (dress uniform), as well as on one pair of my 'madey bet' (work uniform), while I am in this current 'tafkid', of which I will explain momentarily. Being a 'samal rishon' gives you a lot of respect within the army as it shows you are no longer a youngster. This is seen especially when traveling to and from the army, where I have seen young soldiers subtly glancing at the ranks on my uniform; most probably thinking how far they are away from those sacred patches!!!

Me and my new ranks; a 'falafel' in the centre of three lines.

So now to this new 'tafkid' that I keep mentioning. As of last week, I am currently a 'mefaked' in 'achana l'makim', which means that I'm a commander in the preparation for commanders' course within the paratroopers. In a sense, I am being a 'mefaked' for the would-be commanders from the paratrooper brigade, by preparing them for 'makim' (commanders' course), which they start in a few weeks. Every person who goes to commanders' course from the paratroopers (like I did a little over six months ago - http://samsank.blogspot.com/2011/03/this-weekend-marked-fourth-seminar-of.html), goes through this three week preparation before they start the real course. This 'tafkid' is not the most exciting in the world, as I am more or less just babysitting the soldiers; taking them to the dining room, keeping them quiet in lessons and telling them what time to go to bed. Yet, it is a 'tafkid' nonetheless and it's another exciting experience for me at being a 'mefaked'. Like I said, I am mainly with the soldiers to keep an eye on them, but I still hold some authority over them and have the responsibility to care for all their needs over the next couple of weeks. I am a lot older (in army age) than all of my soldiers, of which I have 13 guys from 101, so they are both intimidated by me and interested to hear of my experiences in the army of 'kav' and of 'makim'. These feelings of both respect and fear that they have towards me, allows me to be more of a commander than the 'tafkid' needs me to be!

My soldiers in the shooting range last week.

Being back at the 'Bach' again as a 'mefaked' is so much fun. As a soldier in basic training on the 'Bach', I was always taking orders, running to be on time and had little freedom whatsoever. Now it is the complete opposite; being an experienced 'lohem' (fighter) with ranks on my uniform means I can go almost anywhere I want on the base. The best thing, however, about being back on the 'Bach' is seeing my old soldiers when I was a 'mefaked' a couple of months ago during pre-basic training (http://samsank.blogspot.com/2011/07/mefaked-sam_30.html). Although I only had those soldiers for a fortnight, I definitely made a lasting impression on them and, of course, one always remembers their first ever commander. So walking through the 'Bach' means every so often, a former soldier of mine shouts "Mefaked Sam" and runs up to me to say hello. Or, in some cases, the soldiers are with their current basic training commander and are still very much at distance. Thus, when they see me, I can see that they've recognized me by the look on their face, but are unable to come over to me because they are walking in line or something like that! They are almost all "grown up" having nearly finished basic training and it nice to think that it was me who had the first impact on their service as a soldier.

I have a couple more weeks left of this current 'tafkid', after which I will return to my company, which has just started a new 'kav' in the West Bank. The week I go back to my company also marks my platoon becoming veterans, a very significant and beneficial event, of which I will explain in the next blog.

There is only one way to end this week's blog...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cgkkGUI-fog&feature=related

Fasting in Lebanon

After being in London for thirty days, I was hoping for an easy transition back into the army routine, but that was one of the craziest weeks I've ever had. I was only in the army for seven days, yet still managed to spend Yom Kippur on base, finish the 'kav' in Lebanon and then complete one of the hardest field exercises the IDF has to offer. This all is but a speck on what is surely the most important thing to have happened in the last five years.

Firstly, my return to the army after a full month off was actually very smooth. Not only was I looking forward to seeing my friends and getting back into the swing of things, but the knowledge that in six months time I'm done with the army helped me to return with a smile on my face. Everyone was happy to see me and hear of my stories from back home, but as ever, any extra manpower in the 'pluga' (company) gives everyone a boost. A mere few hours after being back on base and officially the gdud's property once again, I was thrown straight into the deep end and into something I'd never done before. Due to my status as an '08' soldier, one that has finished commanders' course, I am therefore qualified to be a commander of one of the vehicles of a 'siyur' (mounted patrol along the border) and this is what I was assigned to do shortly after arriving on base. I cannot talk about what a 'siyur' entails, but I can say that I did have a certain amount of responsibility and was responsible for a number of soldiers. Realistically, I didn't have to do that much, although it did show me that my 'mem mem' (platoon commander), who has become like a good friend as well as being my commanding officer, has a certain level of trust in me. It was a new experience to be in somewhat of a minor authorative role in the field (as supposed to when I was a commander on the training base) and although it was slightly daunting at first, I started to relish the experience.

Mid-siyur shopping in a petrol station!


Last week was Yom Kippur and it was my first and will be my only YK in the army. For the previous two YKs I was in my old kibbutz, Ortal, where I simply fasted and just tried to pass the time, much like I used to do when in England. This year, however, I was in very different circumstances, albeit not to far away from my old kibbutz. Along with about just half of the soldiers in the pluga, I started the fast on a big meal and then went to the Kol Nidre service at the tiny mobile synagogue on the base. I was a bit apprehensive about going to prayers, but it turned out to be a very meaningful service and something that I won't forget easily. The fact that it was all a bit patched together just added to it's specialness, whereby everyone gave input to a part of the service, giving it a multicultural atmosphere of Ashkenazi, Sephardi, Moroccan and even Ethiopian themes. It really encapsulated the beauty of Israel. At one point I accidentally lent on the light switch and turned off the lights, so one of the Druzi drivers was called in to turn them back on (!), again the beauty of Israel in it's most simplest forms. On Yom Kippur itself, I was on siyur for the majority of the day, so the fast was not easy at all, as we were effectively not resting. Being on border patrol during YK is one of the most unique thongs one can do, knowing that I was protecting Israel's northern border so it's citizens can go to synagogue in peace is exceptionally rewarding. We broke the fast on coffee and cookies while overlooking the landscape of southern lebanon, without a doubt, an unforgettable Yom Kippur!

My bed on 'kav'.







This week also marked the end of 'kav tsafon' (northern border deployment) for my gdud. My friends all said that it was one of the worst periods of their service for a number of reasons and were thrilled to be leaving. Luckily for me, I was absent for the majority of the 'kav', having had the role as a commander for a couple of weeks and then being in England for month. After leaving the north, the whole 'gdud' did a field exercise near the dead sea. I had heard that it was going to be hard and having not really done anything like that in as much as a year, I was actually excited to do the challenge. However, the reality was a lot harder than I'd imagined. We walked from 8 in the evening until 5 in the morning, covering over 20km of mountainous desert; 9km of which, were done with open stretchers. Once we finished all the walking, then the actual battalion exercise began, which lasted several hours, meaning several hours of us to runing up hills in the scorching heat. I can honestly say now, it was one of the hardest things I've done in the army. Walking up and down hills for an hours and hours ("hills" doesn't give credit to what we climbed) with my unbelievably heavy bag is no easy task. The pain was everywhere; from my burning shoulders (struggling to cope with the weight) and excruciating lower back (having to hold up the massive bag), to my legs (striving to push the rest of my body up the steep gradient) and all the way down to my feet, whose state is so severe that it's too horrific to put a picture of them up on the blog. How can one get through a night like that when it genuinely seems humanely impossible and it feels you can't physically continue. This question is what sums up what being 'lohem' (combat soldier) in the IDF is all about. As I walked along beside my 'mem mem', I feel as though we shared each other's pain; hearing him grunt on the numerous 'aliyot' (uphill climbs) and then him hearing me sigh once we would reach every summit. The army is all about being there for the guy next to you, whether its your friend or your officer. It's those sort of hellish nights that builds this army into the strongest in the world and I'm proud to say that we all finished it together.

Grounding of the coffee - a ritual activity for army 'youngsters' in my company.


I can't believe and never thought I would be able to write this sentence in one of my blogs, yet the news on Tuesday night was that Gilad Shalit is coming home. When hearing of the news in the army, we found ourselves overcome with joy and emotion and spontaneously started embracing one another. Without going into the whole debate, it is 100% the right decision from the government and it has taken far too long. I pray that the exchange goes as planned and that I'll be able to write on the next blog how it is fantastic to see him back with us and in full recovery. Imagine the moment when he'll actually walk into the room and reunite with his parents; it's very hard to describe the happiness and relief and all the other emotions that will be felt for every single Israeli. I have found myself a few times this week in pure disbelief at the thought of him coming back, it has gone on for so long that there was a genuine fear of him never ever returning. As I have said a few times before on the blog, Gilad Shalit's fate has naturally been the most prominent issue in the Israel media for five years and the campaign for his release has been ongoing and has never really slowed down. It is just unbelievable that after all the years of marches and posters and songs, he is finally coming home to us.

I am back to the army tomorrow but should be out again on Wednesday for Sukkot Bet (I am currently out for Sukkot Aleph). In the next blog I'll be sure to write about entering my final six months of my service and what that means. Also next week, we'll be starting a new 'kav'. Hag Samaech to you all and hoping for a safe return for Gilad...