A Very Basic Training

Before I started my compulsory service in the Israeli Defence Force I got a facebook message from a friend saying “be safe, and moral”.

Two things ran through my mind in reading this statement.

Firstly, that my friend thinks that the army is like a sausage factory, where things go in alive, whole, free thinking, and come out as phallic objects filled with filth, snout and entrails.

Secondly, that my friend has enough respect to think of me as moral prior to enlisting, but not enough faith in me to avoid influence of the ‘rape, pillage, and burn’ mentality they supposedly teach there.

It’s possible that she confused the Israeli Army with a band of drunken Vikings. It is also possible that I am blowing her well-wishes out of proportion.

This is not a political blog so I am not going to go into what I do and do not think about the army. Instead I want to share my experience.

I recently finished basic training ‘02’, the second most basic training of the army. The training is for soldiers who will not be anywhere near combat during their service.

We learnt a bit of self-defence, how to shoot, learnt a little history, first aid, how to put on gas masks in the event of chemical warfare from our friendly neighbours, and how to wait.

Waiting is a skill I think I mastered in the month basic training.

The number crunch of the month:

50 sit ups

70 push ups

45 bullets shot

5 km of running

15km of walking

5.7 hours of sleep/night

12 showers

350 shekels earnt

And 212 hours of standing

At the end of the service, you are offered three jobs; fixing the wheels on tanks, fixing radios used in the war with Vietnam, or driving a truck. What great opportunities for my comrades, some of which have two physics degrees, some wuth aeronautical engineering degrees, many spoke more than 3 languages fluently including Arabic, some had officer training in the Russian army. 

Your humble narrator was offered a job in the Education Core creating lessons aimed to strengthen the Jewish and Zionist identity of people in the army on the condition that he sign on another 6 months.

A short sob-story about being alone in the world and a sick dog got me out of signing more time. I am happy to be starting a job I am most probably passionate about and isn’t going to melt my mind anymore that basic training has.

As a reflection on the whole experience we say in the army “היה טוב, אבל טוב שהיה” “it was good, but it’s good that it was”. I made some great friends and the experience cleared up a lot of the concerns I had concerning the army.

The Army

I struggle through my final push up and complete my punishment, but I'm still laughing. My commander opened the floor for us to share headlines we had read in the paper that day, Wanting to lighten the mood from articles about iran's nuclear program advancing and rockets hitting the south of Israel from Gaza, I tell the group about Macey Gray regretting her trip here. The commander askes me to explain who she is so i enter into my best rendition of here one hit. ''I try to say goodbye and I choke, try to walk away but I stumble...'' the soldiers and the commander laugh and I get punished. No singing in the army.

So far the army has not been worth the anguish I was feeling before I drafted. It's oddly a lot like summer camps. The commanders are like the camp councilors and I'm once again a participant.

The people in my unit are aged between 23 and 30 and for all of us Hebrew is our second or third language. It's hillarious at times, because when we get an order to run somewhere, most of us either dont listen or dont understand, so we end up running off like a herd of confused wilderbeast.

We get less than 6 hours of sleep every night, but our productivity in the 18 hours we're awake is nowhere near what we could be achieving. In the 14 hours at the shooting range, only a quarter of our group got to shoot 6 bullets.

There is an internal logic in the army that changes every couple of seconds with each of the commanders, making it incredibley hard to be a good soldier even if I wanted to be. I get told to eat from one commander, then get asked by another why I'm eating by another. This gets intensley frustrating.

I'm enjoying the comradery between the group, we jel over our united hatred for the officers.

The food Isn't so bad, even for vegetarians.

We're sleeping in tents on a base left by the British so the piping is a bit old and so there is always a pungent smell of human waste.

There are probably two main goals for this training. The first in to intergate us into Israeli society. And the second is to turn us into obedient soldiers, you cant scratch your ass without permission. They give you too little time to run somewhere to teach you ask for more time. The is probably the most difficult thing to cope with in my unit seeing as we're all used to being o independent.

Personally, I'm not hating it here. Some things are fun. I'm learning Amharit from the ethiopeans and learning to swear with zeal from the russians.

Civilian T's to that Olive Green

I’ve liberated myself from the constraints of my luscious locks and am ready to trade in my civilian T’s for that olive green.

That olive green. The colour that inspires, and allows that blue and white to stay bright.

When I was in Australia I said, “Wherever I walk, I walk toward Israel”. When I got to Israel, I said “Wherever I stand, I sand in Israel”. Now, in my final hours of freedom I say “From tomorrow, wherever I stand, I stand for Israel”.

After my service I’ll say: “Shit, I gotta get a job.”

Friends who wished they had one last chance to run their fingers through my hair, or have one last beer with me ask me how I feel about it all. I thought I’d share it with you.

Firstly, joining the army, for me, is neither the realisation of political or religious agenda. It is a part of the reality in which I live. If a country is under threat, they need a defence force.

No idea why Australia has one.[1]

This is not to say that I want to go to the front line and monitor borders, or have to decide if someone should live or die. I would be happy to be behind a desk and not have any contact with weapons at all. There is no doubt that there a need for those kind of soldier, but those who know me, know that I’m not that kind of guy.

There are some things I am nervous about, and other things that I’m excited about.

Communal showers for example.

I’m no exhibitionist. I’d prefer to wash myself without being bathed by someone else’s gaze.

One thing that excites me is the chance to meet people from all walks of life who I would not have spoken to because of the city they come from or any number of reasons.

As much as Israel has abandoned the kur khitukh (‘melting pot’) model and has embraced integration over assimilation, there are certainly still elements of ‘becoming one of the flock’ when you pass under the shepherd hook of the I.D.F. It is an integral experience in being an Israeli.

No doubt it will be an eventful period of my life.

Stay tuned for stories.

Sgt. Jorje

"I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier. I've got ham, but I'm not a hamster"