Into the Wild

After being totally disconnected from all civilization for two weeks straight, I’m alive and back to tell my tale.

On Monday we had a masa to get to our campsite, which was led by our Samal (the commander in charge of being scary and strict). Excuse my language, but he tore us a new one. At one point he started walking so fast that none of us were able to keep up with him as he disappeared over the top of a hill. When we got to the top we couldn’t find him, so we stayed put, hoping to catch our breath. Immediately we heard our Samal screaming from the bottom of the hill – right where we had come from – “Why are you standing still?! Why are you in shock?? Wake up!! Ten seconds, two lines behind me.”

The overall idea of the field training was to introduce us to basic concepts of camouflage, survival, etc. We also spent a while learning how to conquer small hills in small groups. This was the first time that we really started felling like soldiers, running around, rolling, ducking, and diving in full gear. It was also the first time we were allowed to shoot in an open area, and not in the firing ranges, which required far more responsibility and awareness. It also meant our commanders and officer have begun to trust us more.

One of the hardest parts of the two weeks was the food. We ate combat rations for every meal, everyday. My normal meal consisted of: 1/2 can of tuna, a handful of corn, 1 stuffed grape-leaf, 7 peanuts, 5 pieces of pineapple, 4 slices of bread, and a teaspoon of Halva (a sesame dessert). Everyone was constantly starving. If anyone dropped any peanuts on the ground, I promptly picked them up and ate them. One day we were given the left overs from dinner for breakfast, and then when lunch came, we didn’t get anything. Essentially, we didn’t eat for 24 hours even though we were running around and sweating all day. The best thing to happen all week was when we got bananas, and we made banana-pineapple-peanut-Halva sandwiches. You can really see people’s true colors when they are hungry and there is a small amount of food to go around. There are those who eat their portion, those who distribute and make sure there is food left over for anyone not there, those who eat less so others have more, and those who eat as if they were sitting at the Thanksgiving table. These people are the easiest to recognize. They will volunteer to open the canned pineapple, and quickly drink all the juice and stuffed a couple mouth full before anyone notices. Then they’ll pass the can around, and ask for it, saying they hadn’t gotten any yet. It is absolutely infuriating.

Another terrible part of the two weeks was the night. All you want to do is sleep forever, but every night when you crawl into your freezing sleeping bag, you know you are about to be woken up by brutal yells and gun shots. We had a Hakpatza every single night, one night we even had a special treat of 3 Hakpatzot. In addition, every night we had to guard for 45 minutes in the freezing cold. Everyone left the two weeks with black-cold burns all over our hands. One night I was on guard duty, and I noticed two people walking along the ridge line of the hill across from our campsite. I asked for them to identify themselves. After not receiving a response, I yelled a little louder. This time they heard me, but I did not get the response I expected. “ALLAH AKHBAR!” (God is Great in Arabic). Then I heard shots fired in the air. Very startled, I saw the two run towards our campsite. When they got closer, I recognized two commanders from a different unit. In retrospect, it was a hilarious moment, but at the time I was pretty scared.

However the main purpose of guarding our tents at night is not to protect against terrorists, rather to ward off Bedouin thieves. The Bedouins are nomadic Arabs who historically made their money by being sheep herders and merchants. In recent years they have become notorious for stealing everything possible. Our base is surrounded by small Bedouin settlements, usually consisting of a few houses or tents and a field for sheep. After shooting in the firing ranges, we have to go around picking up the casings of the bullets, otherwise the Bedouins will come and pick them up to sell. They have stolen our bags, flashlights, etc. During this week our campsite was about 500 meters from a Bedouin settlement, so we had to be extra vigilant. At the end of the week when we packed up our site, we saw a ten-year-old boy come running down from his tent to scavenge our site for anything we might have forgotten. This was one moment that was the opposite of most of my experiences during the two weeks – it was funny at the time, but the more I think about it the more serious I realize the situation was. This boy likely has no choice but to try to sell anything he can find, but at the same time you don’t want to let him take any of your equipment.

Another one of the Hakpatzot involved knocking down our tents and carrying all of our units gear for a short trek. I was wearing my combat vest and helmet, my personal bag, a backpack filled with 9 big water bottles, two sleeping bags, and three wool blankets. All of this weight was on my neck, so i walked slowly with my head down. I guess I was last in line, and at some point I lost balance and fell over. When I looked up, nobody was around me. I was lost in the middle of the desert. We are taught that if we lose the group to stay in place until someone notices that we are missing, which is exactly what I did. Again, funny now, not so funny then.

I had two experiences this week that I never had before, but probably won’t be the last time they happen either. The first was another not-so-comfortable in the moment type deal. Well long story short, I didn’t have any toilet paper, and the only thing around me was a pile of rocks… You get the picture. The second thing happened on Friday night, when the skies opened up and it started pouring. Unfortunately, my tiny, two-person tent has “ventilation slits”, which are not so rain-proof. My tent quickly filled will water and mud, which made it impossible to sleep in. Soaking wet and caked with buttery mud, I joined two other friends in their tent, and we somehow managed to fit there. Never thought I would spend my Friday nights spooning with two other guys…

Being an elite unit in the Nachal Brigade, we require certain gear to be able to train to our fullest potential. This gear ranges from hiking boots, warm winter fleeces, gloves, hats, head lamps, etc. Unfortunately, the army is not able to provide us with everything that we need. I have volunteered to take on the project of collecting donations for my unit. In the near future I will be posting a link to a donation page. If anyone is interested in donating any amount, all of my friends and I will be incredibly grateful.

Tomorrow morning I go back for two more weeks of fun and games.

Much love. Shaul.