A day of rest

May 29

Shabbat Shalom. This is a phrase that almost every Jew and several non-Jews say in Israel before the Sabbath starts on Friday evening, wishing people a peaceful and restful day. But when I think of how I’ve spent Shabbat in the past, I think of glamorous meals or visiting other homes or Mom’s matzah ball soup. I don’t think I ever imagined spending Shabbat the way I am right now, two weekends in a row.

As I write this in the middle of the night, I am gazing at a picturesque sky filled with stars that seem to be brighter than usual. They can be seen over a horizon line that has multiple armored vehicles of which I am guarding this weekend, while the previous weekend was the tanks. Although it’s really dirty here and extremely hot and there are enough flies to make you go psycho, it is also really peaceful to do Shabbat camping in the desert, the shetach as we call it, and that is what Shabbat is all about. It’s not like this is my first time guarding out here or certainly not spending a night either – trust me, I’ve done that a-plenty. But it’s different on Shabbat because I guess I have time to enjoy it.

The last two weeks were supposed to be a lot of tank training but they turned into a lot of waiting around for our turn. As I previously stated, being in the highest-rated tank isn’t always a good thing. We were far advanced so we had to let others practice to catch up, not to mention we received many new (and great) soldiers from other units that had to start from scratch. This gave me feelings of angst and impatience because I wanted to do the training (it’s much better than the kitchen, my least favorite thing that exists in the army). We waited our turn. And waited. Sometimes they would tease with us it seemed by bringing us to the shetach to the tanks but then wake up only to work on them mechanically rather than have fun and train on them. Let’s just say this is annoying, plain and simple. The first Shabbat through all of this I didn’t want to stay in the shetach. Wouldn’t you rather have air conditioning all day on base instead of 90 degree weather by the time 8 AM rolls around with a swarm of flies on the side? If you answered no, we can talk about that later. But it just felt so free to be lying there with only three other people overlooking a whole world that sounded silent, peaceful.

The second week of (non) training was even hotter – we had to stop because of the heat multiple times. Finally, at the end of the week, it was our turn to do a drill with the tank. I was ecstatic and we told ourselves we had to show everyone, especially the generals, how good we really were and that they were wasting our time, so to speak. This exercise was really fun – we did all sorts of situational firing and attacking, not to mention our first shell, with which our gunner, Mickey, hit the target. We were proud of ourselves and also relieved like all soldiers all – we had made it to Shabbat.

This time, I wanted to be here with my friends in the middle of nowhere making Shabbat rather than still having timed meals or checks that everyone is present. Of course I’d rather be home in the kibbutz, but this place is a good way to feel some freedom after a week of taking commands. I still have to guard, but it isn’t so bad. Shabbat is the day of rest and here, at 4:30 in the morning, I feel free and like I’m putting the hard work from the week behind me. I am a mere three and a half weeks from finishing all of the tank training, being called an official “tankist,” being comat ready, and from finishing something I never thought I’d do or remotely want to do. But it is something I want because even when I stare out and see nothing, I know the land is much more than that and depends on me and my fellow soldiers.

Do you believe in heroes?

May 22

I have no idea what a hero is. I have no clue what it means to be a positive role model either, and I don’t think there are many people that actually do. Those who do would be hard-pressed for words to describe their opinions as well. Yet there are some things about some people that just get us wrapped up in their stories, their lives. Some make instant impacts, others last a lifetime.

I can put my findger on plenty of people who I considered heroes, even if it was short lived or someone I’ll never meet. For example, any athlete who made me feel bliss and help me smile when I think back to the moment he helped my favorite team win. Or camp counselors who taught me things I didn’t realize were important until much later on. And of course there is always family. But at this point in my life, I find inspiration and heroism from someone who is no longer wih us yet would just be about my age today. I also know I’m not alone in this thought. They call him the Hero in Heaven. They call him Michael Levin.

Here’s a man who dared to risk it all just to fulfill his dreams, as he so famously said. That’s understandably respectable and an amazing attribute. But to take it even one step further and come back to fight in a war while on vacation (which I now know don’t happen too often in the army) knowing he was putting his life in danger, words can’t describe this. He ended up being killed in battle in Lebanon, but his legacy will always live on.

As I walked through Har Hertzl, the most famous military ceremony in Israel, in January as a newly sworn in soldier, I felt many new emotions that I hadn’t ever felt when visiting there. Proud to be a soldier, part of the everlasting family that is the Israel Defense Forces. Yet, I also felt fear and angst hoping (G-d forbid) nothing like this could ever happen to me. Thankfully, I don’t know anyone who has personally died in a batlle nor did I ever know the names of most of the people there (besides the likes of Hertzl and Rabin). Then towards the end of our tour through the cemetery, I saw the grave of Michael and stopped.

A Birthright trip was also standing there and being told the story of Michael. Although I had already heard this story, I was glued to it once again. As I stood there in uniform with my M-16 by my side, tears began to roll down my eyes. “What is happening?” I thought to myself. I didn’t even know the guy and there are plenty of other brave people who have also died for our country, but this one hit me, hard. Who knows what Michael might be doing today if he were still around. But what matters most is what he did then.

Moving here and doing this crazy army stint is a personal choice and only that. People can motivate you to do things or drive you to make decisions, but in the end you’re the final judge. Michael showed something that is important to every human being and that is you have to be willing to go all the way and put yourself out there for people as much as possible. The world doesn’t work on one person’s actions. It is a chain reaction of acts of kindness that make this world spin in a positive manner.

Would I do the same thing and leave my American family and friends in a time of war knowing what I’m getting myself into? Of course it’s hard to say since situations can differ, but at this point absolutely. Michael was willing to give his life for millions he never will know. Forget that, he was and we are doing this for Jewish generations to come. The least I can do is try to honor his beliefs and carry them out so this country and this people can thrive even further. I still don’t know what exactly defines a hero. But I can tell you that in any thought or conversation I have about heroism, I’ll think of Michael – we all should. They say you learn a lot from the past and those who have come before. Let us not forget the great message and values Michael taught us, or that he still teaches us atop Har Hertzl today.