The End of the Beginning

June 24 – End of Advanced Training

When I left my house about a year ago, I really didn’t know what to expect with this army thing. I had convinced myself that I would be better off as a straight-up educator in the army instead of a combat soldier. Besides, I had experience in this and it would let my family and friends sleep easier at night. Slowly but surely, however, I convinced myself otherwise – if the country wanted me in a certain way, I would go with the flow. So when I arrived to the tanks unit seven months ago, I knew I would be in for a very new experience.

Now this day had arrived – the end of advanced training where I would officially become a "fighter" in the Israeli army. I would now be able to be called up in wars or missions, I would be moving up a rank, and I wouldn’t be completely looked down upon as a "young" soldier. These are the days when I look back and see how fast time really goes. One year from a 22 year old college graduate to a 23 year old fighter in the army of the country that I love.

The whole week was very celebratory, topping it off with something that we had been looking forward to for a while – breaking distance with our commanders. The tanks are notorious for having some of the highest discipline and they wait until the last day to put the commander/soldier thing on the side and make it more like a person to person relationship. Some get excited for this on that general level of evening the playing field; others have personal things to score. For example, I was finally able to speak in English with my American-Israeli commander. He really had become another role model for me, particularly because of the similarities and him being in the tanks unit (where there are less Americans than many infantry units).

We didn’t sleep the whole night before the ceremony and it felt great. We arrived at Latrun, the place of the ceremony, and all looked like zombies, but happy ones at that. We spent the whole day in the heat and humidity practicing, where in the end we would receive a pin of a tank for our uniforms. Again, like my swearing-in ceremony, I was very fortunate to have friends and family in attendance supporting me. This made it an even more meaningful day where I could show them what I had accomplished up until now.

As the ceremony started, we marched in and took our places. Some important people spoke, the "best soldiers" got certificates, and it was on to the pin giving. My general had told me that had there been a best soldier that the other soldiers and commanders choose (which there is occasionally), I would have received that honor. This man also just doesn’t say things stam (as Israelis say), he means them. He's the only one from the commanders/generals that had been with me from day one and always stuck with me. When I thought about moving to a different brigade of the tanks, he begged one of the head guys to keep me so he could turn me into a good soldier and convinced me to stay and try. This ended up being a great decision on many accounts – friends, experiences, knowledge, confidence, etc.

It is a tradition throughout the army that commanders and generals give their pins to soldiers rather than new ones as a sign of passing down the good work they had done. I thought maybe I might get my commander's pin. As he came around and I was one of the last ones without a pin, I saw he had already given his away. I knew he had given it to my new friend in the second staff of my commander, Iliya, so that made me happy because he had joined us late and was better than most at what he did. My commander said some very nice and significant words to me, asked me if I'd write about this in my blog (because it turns out he had been reading it the whole time), put the pin above the button on left pocket of the shirt, then gave me a few punches on the shoulder and chest, more like "love taps" in the army. A few seconds later, another commander, one who wasn’t even in my division inside of the platoon, came to me and started to take my new pin off and switch it for his. This man had really done a lot for me. He taught me many things I would have never known about the tank, always pushed me to give even more effort, and encouraged and helped progress my Hebrew learning. I like to think we became sort of friends through it all, even if commanders and soldiers in the tanks don’t do that until it's all said and done. As he finished giving me his pin, he also gave me a hit. However, it was in the stomach so as to surprise me – or maybe so that I'll never forget who gave me that pin.

Just like many ends, it was also sad to say bye to the guys. We are all going our separate ways to different "battle lines" in order to guard and be ready for anything that might happen. Also, a group of 10 or so out of every 40 is going to tank commander's course, a high honor that brings a difficult three months of learning all there is to know about the tank. As surprised as others may be just as I was, I was chosen to become a tank commander! I can’t even find the words to describe how wild it is to think that I will have to opportunity to command tanks when only one year ago I didn’t think combat and I would go together. The commanders know that the language is hard for me, but I suppose they see beyond that. It's also about responsibility, trust, organization, etc. I feel very honored that they saw some traits in me that led them to believe I could become a commander, as many deserving people (maybe even more deserving) weren’t offered. This whole ordeal proved another thing to me, too, for now and for the future – if you have a will, a purpose, for all that you do and always give it your best, good things will happen and you and others around will thrive. The country wants me to become even more of a leader and I am ready for the challenge. Because in the end, I'm doing what she needs from me, and doing so the best I can.