Masas in the IDF

At every step of an IDF soldier's journey, from the very beginning, he is expected to achieve certain levels of physical fitness. Besides for the everyday workouts, krav maga training, and a dreadful thing called the bochan maslul, which can all wait for later posts, a main way of judging you and moving you along in this aspect is through masas.

A masa is a march done at long distances and at an incredibly difficult pace. Depending on the masa itself, and whether or not it has a uniquely special significance (which some do), these distances and paces vary. Traditionally, and maybe quite obviously, each one is supposed to be harder than the one before it. Another added difficulty is the sheer weight and discomfort of all of the equipment you carry with you. While each soldier carries his own personal equipment, which is more than heavy enough, many in each citah are also expected to take on extra responsibility (re: weight), and are given special roles with unique equipment. For example, there is a radio guy, who carries a heavy, clunky broadcaster on his back, and is expected to maintain the same rhythm and speed as the commander leading the march.

I have had some of my most difficult moments as a lone soldier during masas, as well as some of the most rewarding. There is no way to describe what it feels like to be at the end of a multiple-kilometer uphill sprint, the guy in front of you, a complete stranger, cursing and screaming that he can't go anymore, your own muscles giving out, and your mind unable to conjure up the Hebrew words to comfort him, so you decide to just push and pull him to the finish. Or on the same masa when the biggest guy doing the masa falls down and hurts his leg, so you and the guys around you have to figure out how to carry him on top of the rest you have weighing you down, so that nobody is left behind.

The most lengthy masa I had was the most recent, a six-kilometer march uphill. The weekend before, I was chatting on the phone with another Nahlawi from my Garin, another best friend named Noam, walking around my beautiful kibbutz, when a nail went through my foot. Needless to say, I limped my way around base all week, and when it came time to do the masa insisted that I participate. My commander allowed it, trusting my instinct, and I threw my equipment on and hobbled my way through the desert hills. It was the first masa we've had that felt as official as it did. There were flags of our units set up beforehand, and as we went, it was clear that the way had been planned carefully. The views on the march were gorgeous. It felt like we were walking on the surface of a different planet somehow, climbing closer to the stars. You pass a point relatively "early" in these marches where you just keep moving automatically. You don't think about what hurts, what's uncomfortable, what's heavy, you just go. You ride emotions and you go through waves. It's actually possible to think about a lot of other things! When the march came to an end, my commander barked at me to come over to him. He screamed, "Darren! How is the leg!?" I mumbled the best Hebrew response I could to indicate that I was okay. "Does it hurt!?" I nodded, smiled, and again said I was fine. Suddenly, he swung wildly and punched me hard in the shoulder, a huge grin on his face. "Kol ha kavod, Darren." "All the respect."

The masa that takes the cake out of them all is the famous masa kumtah or "beret march" which is said to take upwards of twenty hours and will totally dwarf any of the ones we feel are so difficult now. The prize at the end? The neon green beret that Nahal is famous for.

In the meanwhile, at the end of this week, we will have a masa also renowned for its difficulty, called the masa samal ("the Sergeant's march) and, for us, also the masa hashba'ah ("the Swearing-In March"). It will be seven-plus-one, meaning seven kilometers plus one extra grueling one with stretchers open, meaning extra weight for the team to carry that last stretch. We have been told that there will be a "surprise" at the end, and, considering it is the day before our tekes hasba'ah or "Swearing-In Ceremony" at the Western Wall, we are hoping to earn the shoulder tags of our unit.

The ceremony itself is extremely important for me and I have started to become really excited about making my oath to defend Israel at such a significant place for our people. Until then, we have another big week ahead of us beforehand.

               -     Darren