When
I arrived back on base after Trom Tironut, we
took care of some errands and chores before going to sleep early for
what would be a long following day. That Monday morning, we were all
taken to the basketball court and sat down to find out where we would
be serving for the rest of our lives in the army.
Known
as the “Ceremony of Tears” to some, due to the heartbreak many
feel for not being placed in Maglan or Duvduvan, the ceremony is also
exciting for those wishing for a specific gdud.
There are three gdudim
in Tzanchanim: 101, 202, and 890. From the start, I maintained a
desire to be placed in either 101 or 202, even preferring the former
quite a bit.
As
the ceremony got underway, the names of the Maglan and Duvduvan teams
were called, followed by the specialized units of Tzanchanim and then
gdud 101. I eagerly
listened, hoping to hear my name. As the names of 101 were finished,
I still hadn't heard mine. Then came 890, thankfully not with my
name. Finally, as they read the names for 202, mine was called and I
went to meet those I would be spending the next eight months of my
life with.
When
we arrived at the building for our pluga (company)
in the 202 Tzepha (viper)
battalion, we each had interviews with our new mefakdim
as well as the mem mem and
mem pay, the
commanders of my machlakah (a
group of three classes) and pluga,
respectively.
My
first impression of my mefaked
was certainly a good one. He took extra care to find out what
difficulties I was facing as a northerner and a lone soldier and made
it understood that he would do everything in his power to ease those
difficulties. My meeting with the mem mem
was no less uplifting, concluding with the officer actually thanking
me for choosing to come and do service in the Israeli army.
My
initial disappointments about not receiving my first choice were
quickly allayed and I began to feel at home at 202. Those feelings
were only magnified the first time I met my kitah
(a group of thirteen soldiers who live and train together). Many were
interested in my story, but more importantly, many took it upon
themselves to include me in the group from the beginning despite the
difficulties with the language.
The
first week in the pluga
was exciting due to the fact that we actually began real training,
most notably receiving and shooting our M16 rifles. My shooting is
surprisingly good and I can now confidently say I'm proficient in the
basic use of the rifle, including cleaning and maintaining it.
More
important than the activities and training, however, is the way my
kitah bonded
throughout the week. Each one in my kitah
saw to it that I was coming along okay in the gun lessons or that I
had everything I needed, and each of the commanders made sure that I
was connecting with the group.
I
can see now why friends from the army become the closest friends one
can find in life and I look forward to maintaining the friendships
throughout the hardships of the next weeks and months.
After
the first week, a relatively easy one, I had a short weekend at home
before returning to base for shooting week. While shooting week
generally takes place on base, my pluga
was chosen to go out into the shetach
for the exercises.
Living
in the shetach is the
epitome of the physical difficulties in the army. Chilled to the bone
and sleeping in the harshest of elements, eating far from satisfying
combat rations and carrying insane amounts of weight in equipment
everywhere you go are some of the main features of the experience.
Each day consisted of shooting for hours on end, usually fun but
often tiring, and each night consisted of huddling up next to the
thirty other soldiers in the pluga for
a break from the fierce cold.
After
two nights, all without enough sleep due to the uncomfortable
elements and waking up multiple times for guard duty, we finally
packed our things and headed back to base. While I usually can't wait
to be off base and at home, I could only wish of being back in the
comforts of base while living in the shetach.
Those feelings of wanting to be on base will not last for long, I'm
afraid
This
weekend was an incredibly short one, as I'm headed back tonight on a
Saturday to begin Shavua Sadaoot
(a week in the shetach,
often considered the hardest week of basic training). Following the
week, I'll be closing two weekends in a row which means three weeks
on base. I'm not entirely looking forward to these upcoming weeks,
but I'm sure I'll have a lot to write about when they finally come to
a close.
I
won't be home again until 2013, so to all the readers out there, have
a happy and healthy New Year! This year has brought a lot of change
for me, as I'm sure the next year will, too. The change has been
good, however, and I'm incredibly grateful for everyones support
throughout it all.
Until
2013!
-Brett
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