On arrival, it was instantly different to the atmosphere of Trom Tironut. I immediately was made to stand at attention for an equipment inspection with my Sergeant, a figure I would become very familiar with over the time to come, and shortly afterward, given orders to my new "Citah" or group. I sat in the tent, unsure of how and where to start conversations with everyone... each person seemed a bit more nervous, a bit more reserved than the group had been at the beginning of our absorption week. I began to feel it, as well. I had interviews with both of my main commanding officers as well as my commander himself, though, and felt at ease after meeting them. It was clear these were people who had something special about themselves and would be good role models to follow and learn from throughout my basic training. It also turned out that one of the guys who I had become close to during Trom Tironut was placed into the same citah as me, which provided some comfort, even after we found out that we were one of the two units who were going to be closing the first weekend. "Closing Shabbat" in the army means staying on-base over the weekend. It is a very dreaded thing, especially when you "close 21," meaning two weekends in a row.
The first week was hard. Suddenly, our lives began to consist of very little sleep, guard shifts during the sleep we did get, and days filled with running from activity-to-activity, each usually done numerous times. It was interesting to see each person in the group react to the shock in different ways, especially knowing that, unlike most of the other units, we would have two straight weeks without the weekend break.
The Flag of Unit 50 "Bazelet"
By the first weekend, when we finally had a chance to breathe for a moment before Shabbat started, I realized there was so much I had experienced and learned, hardly noticing. Even so, I reflected on a week that was entirely difficult for me. Sore, getting to be a bit sick (something you learn to live with in the army), and still barely getting to know the guys in my group, the break would be fully welcomed. Before we could have dinner, we had a few drills dealing with how to react to fires and other emergencies on base, and then all had time to relax and change into our dress uniforms before the meal.
Lining up outside the dining hall, I started to feel the spirit of the combat unit. Standing across from us, like a rival gang of some kind, was the other unit "closing" the weekend, 931. Before I knew what was happening, both units started to sing and chant at each other. The atmosphere was amazing... our commanders would teach us a new chant and we would take to it easily, jumping up and down, suddenly so much prouder of our new battalion.
Minutes later, a soldier from my citah was saying the blessings for the Friday night meal, the rest joining in for the singing bits, and everyone answering "Amen." I looked around and thought about where I was for a moment... the Jewish army, in the Jewish state, observing even one small tradition of our people. The next night, after a long day of sleeping (glorious), we were right back to work, harder than ever, until we were brought to a standing formation as an entire company. Suddenly, a huge, steel Menorah was brought out before us. The company commander, a very high-ranking figure, arrived as it was lit with flames, and began to walk around to the soldiers under his command. As he arrived to each, he said that person's name and where they came from... some 36 people without a stutter. He then stood in the middle of the formation and gave a passionate speech about the meaning of Hannukah, the holiday of Miracles. He said that he looked out and saw the continuation of the Jewish warriors who protected this land and delivered that miracle, how we were the descendants of the Maccabees. My heart swelled with pride.
- Darren
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