We
ate lunch in the Bakkum Cheder Ochel (dining
room), which lived up to its reputation of being delicious by army
standards, before beginning with the day. Much like the process of
the Tzav Rishon, the
Bakkum comprises of
several stations and tasks to complete.
The
first: a photograph for my Teudat Choger
(army I.D. card). A wide smile on my face, I was photographed a few
times before headed off to the next station, x-rays of my teeth.
Following the x-rays, my teeth were photographed and I was sent to do
a cheek swab for the volunteer bone marrow donation agency.
Up
until that point, things had gone unusually smoothly. Surprised as I
was, I walked happily to the next station, bank information. And
there I stood for two hours in the most unorganized, most “Israeli”
line, if you will. Naturally, the two hour wait was for a five minute
chat with a soldier to retrieve my banking information and answer a
few questions. Among the more bleak of the questions: what should
happen to my army salary if something were to happen to me. A gloomy
question, asked in the most casual of manners by the soldier on the
other side of the desk.
Off
to the fingerprint station from there. Fairly straight-forward,
besides for the computer crashing halfway through my prints and the
next computer giving an error message, “Soldier is already in the
system.” Lovely, now the army will forever only have four
of my fingerprints on file. They
found a way to fix it in the end, after another half an hour wait.
From
then on, the lines were relatively short. I proceeded on to the
placement officer on base who ensured that I was happy with my
placement. My ear-to-ear grin gave it away. He happened to recognize
me, his first question being, “You have a brother, correct? He was
with me yesterday as well.”
I moved
along to the D.N.A. station, perhaps the least “fun” of the day.
First, a simple finger prick to draw some blood. Of course, a small
amount of blood won't do, but rather the proper procedure is shading
in two large circles on a page from the small nick. Then, four shots,
two in each arm. I'm no fan of needles usually, but given that the
draftee who went before me fainted during his shots, I was extra
weary of them. Regardless, I took them (thankfully no fainting), and
moved on to the exciting stuff.
After
receiving my diskiot
(dog-tags), one worn around the next and one in each boot, as well as
my teudat choger, I
joined the line to officially receive my uniform. Walking into a
large changing room, I signed for equipment and was handed sizes
based on the judgement of the soldiers working in the back.
Surprisingly, each size (including the boots), fit perfectly the
first time. I took a few minutes to learn how to tie my boots and
wear the gummiot
(rubber bands to keep the bottom of your trousers neat). I took a moment to glance at the mirror for the first time.
Red
boots, the Tzanchanim shirt with the belt on the outside, a green
training beret on my shoulder...I looked directly at the image of
someone I had always imagined but never met. I was finally a soldier.
I
proceeded on to the busses with my new Tik Aleph (army
bag), containing extra pairs of uniforms, a winter jacket, army
t-shirts, socks, and underwear, as well as a few small gifts (razor,
dog tag cover, etcetera). We were told to head home for the weekend
and report to base on the following Sunday, so off we went to our
respective bus stops.
I
was ready to head home, my new life well underway. At the bus
station, calls of “Chayal!” (soldier)
from the shopkeep to get my attention were certainly a strange thing
to hear, something I'm still not used to...Chayal.
The bus
ride on the way home was mostly normal besides for the fact that
being a soldier, I didn't need to pay for it, a refreshing change.
Finally,
hours later, I dropped my army gear in my room and took off my
uniform before a free weekend for the first time. A delicious
Thanksgiving dinner with those of the Garin who were home for weekend
followed, and back to base I went on Sunday (something I'll talk
about in detail in the following post).
Signing
off for the first of many times a soldier!
-Brett
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