March Madness

March 5

“Here, David. Take this,” the general of our platoon said. “You were chosen to represent us on this march in this way.” He handed me a giant Israeli flag, one that I was supposed to raise and carry with me, with us, for our 22 kilometer march. This was the march of all marches for every fighter in the Israeli army – the march for the new beret.

Every soldier along their path starts with a pretty ugly beret the color of olive/throw-up green and at some point most earn a new color specific to their unit. It’s a very monumental moment for most fighters because it means (for everyone but the tanks unit) that they are finishing advanced training. For us, it meant we were about to move on to advanced training, and 22 kilometers was more than enough for me.

We all covered ourselves in war paint on our faces and were told this one was to be done with no help from lights (with no moon) and with the last five kilometers with someone on the stretcher. At this point one might be thinking the same thing I somewhat did at this moment: who wants to go and march (with a good amount of running) 22 kilometers, five of them being with a stretcher…all for a black beret?!? Well, for all of us, we somehow found the motivation, albeit the weather was 50 degrees with wind on the night of the masa (Hebrew for journey or march). Maybe it was brotherhood. Maybe it was friendship. Maybe it was Israel. No matter what it was, we found it and we were all going to do this together. It didn’t matter if we had stress fractures in our legs like yours truly or the flu – we were going to arrive back at the base ready to receive our new berets together.

As always for me, the beginnings of the marches are the hardest part. I don’t really know why, but there is a point in the march where the pain just goes away and you say to yourself, “I’ve already done this much what’s another 15 kilometers or so?” At each rest stop, I didn’t find myself searching for water but rather for a place to stretch my legs. It would be one thing if we just went for 22 kilometers – but you do it with a vest on, 116 bullets, helmet, water, one’s gun, and any extra additions (such as a flag, water jug, stretcher, and communication box). However, we arrived to the last stop with only the five kilometers of stretcher carrying remaining and I felt a second wind. That’s when I really knew that I wasn’t going to just finish, but do so in a vigorous style.

As we continuously screamed to re-motivate ourselves up the final hills, a smile filled my face. This was really one of the things the army is all about – coming together as a group to accomplish a task or mission. We were doing it, and when we arrived at the steps where the ceremony was taking place, we started yelling in song, proud of who we are, what we have become, and who we will be soon as a unit. We had done it, and it was reaffirmed that we really could do anything when it came down to it.

The weeks leading up to this big march were probably the hardest I had encountered so far in the army. One week saw most of the drivers leave to do guarding at a relatively nice tank base and finish their training while myself and three others were left to help run exercises in the fields for the shooters of the tanks. That meant sitting four hours straight in a tank one day and seven straight the next. It then was followed with a week filled with many hours of guarding in the middle of the night in fairly cold weather, something that causes you to become sick and think a lot. I like time to think, but sometimes this can make someone think negative thoughts, especially when one doesn’t feel well. This is when it takes some serious mental strength to make it through these times, knowing that just making it through that day may be a struggle but that a new day is on the horizon. And you know what? I did make it through and now I feel ready for situations like that in the future…and I am sure I will stumble upon them again.

The next step in my journey is advanced training, a very demanding and tiring three month stretch that includes many nights in the fields and sleeping even in the tanks. But in the meantime, my life is moving along nicely and I’m enjoying myself while accomplishing many things. I recently passed my Israeli driver’s license test and now can drive alongside the other crazy drivers in this country. In addition, along with finishing this part of the training, I received a tank driver’s license. This may sound odd but it is actually legitimate and I can drive the tank at my leisure if I so choose. That is something I would have never thought I would hold in my possession. But that is what makes this experience so great – it’s a wild ride with new opportunities that when put all together, it equals the education necessary to help defend this country and its people. In the end, that is what it comes down to, and that notion of the Jewish nation is worth continuing to strive for.

Gentlemen...START YOUR ENGINES!

February 7

Everyone remembers that first time they entered the driver’s seat of a car. Nerves. Power. Excitement. These are just a few feelings one possesses in those first moments behind the steering wheel. “What if I do something wrong?” one thinks. “How do I make this work correctly so that I have the best time while not endangering anyone else? This is a car I’m about to drive – I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.” But once you turn the key and feel the engine roar, all the thoughts and fears go out the window because it’s you, the car, and go-time. You have to trust your instincts and possess self-confidence and the rest will follow course (a good life-lesson for every situation). Well, I was able to relive this experience with a multiplication of a very high power when I entered my tank for the first time two weeks ago.

The lead-up to driving for the first time was very difficult in a different form that one would expect in the army. The first seven weeks were physically challenging. These weeks had us sitting in classrooms for over ten hours a day learning the material necessary to drive or even get close to the tanks and work on them. We learned about the build of the tank, the engine, the transmission, the communication system, and the list goes on. I remember sitting through my toughest classes in high school and college and feeling confused but had the advantage of time to study and enough help from teachers. Now, I was sitting in classes spoken in a language I still don’t have a full grasp of, the teachers speaking extra fast (they’re instructed to) and having about an hour each day to review my notes and our textbook. Talk about pressure-packed learning.

In the army, they say there is no time, so everything is processed in turbo-speed. Within two weeks, they deemed us ready to enter the tanks. I felt ready in the sense that I wouldn’t have to sit in difficult classes but would actually get to use what I (tried to) learn in a practical manner. But I certainly didn’t see the logic in being handed the controls to a 70-ton vehicle that costs millions of dollars. But that’s when it hit me – they (the commanders) have confidence in me, so I must do so as well in myself, and every little thing will be alright. Trust myself, and success will follow – it sounds cliché but it works.

The commanders chose me to drive first and my heart skipped a beat. “Me?” I asked. “Are you sure you mean me?” They were sure. I put on my tank jumpsuit, vest, gloves, entered inside, closed the top, put on the helmet with the communication, and just waited for directions from the commander in the tank with me. “Start it up,” he said. I flipped the switch up and felt the huge thunder of the engine. Everything was good so far. Next it was time to release the brakes, not an easier-said-than-done task (I almost have to partially stand up to do this to get enough weight/pressure on the brakes). Done. Now it was time to go for a little spin in my tank.

The commander said full gas and I hesitated at first due to the fact that it’s very difficult to see when going forwards and impossible when going backwards. However, in the tank, you have to trust what the commander says and just do it. In a real mission, a second of movement one way or the other can make all of the difference in the world between success or failure. I decided, “What the heck, let’s give it a shot.” Pedal to the metal and off we went. “Turn hard left. Hard right. Stop. Backwards quickly,” were some of the commands I received, all while having limited to no vision. Here was the trust and confidence factor playing a role again. It isn’t a myth and it really does work. And then I realized – I was having a lot of fun.

I finished the course with one ride under my belt and a perfect score to show for it. I was proud of myself but I wanted to do it again and keep getting better. I have now driven five times moving on to the advanced course and love it every time, as difficult as it gets or as frustrating as the lessons are/were. Or how annoying it is to check a tank before/after very ride with crawling underneath and hammering like there is no tomorrow. Three more weeks to go and I’ll have a tank license. I will have finished the second part of my training, received a new beret (a big deal in the army), and be ready for advanced training. For now, I’m enjoying the ride. Learning new life lessons like that of trust and confidence are showing me that, up until this moment, this has been the right decision because I’m learning so much for the future, too. Trust in yourself and it equals success to those around you. Try it – it works.

I Swear...

January 9

“David Abraham.” My name had just been read by my commander out of my soon to be personal Tanach, the Jewish book containing the Torah, prophets, and writings – basically, the entire book being that of the Jewish people. All I had to say were two words and I would walk up, receive my personal gun, and I had then become a part of the Israeli army at the next level, ready to take the next step in defending the land that I love.

I reared back all of the energy I had in my body, ready to scream these words. This was a symbolic moment that I had been waiting for since thinking about the army. This was the bridge between finishing basic training and starting my classes on the tank. My heart started beating fast and then I belted out in full voice two words that meant I was giving my 110% to Israel. “אני נשבע! I SWEAR!”

These are two words that are never supposed to be used in vain. I was swearing on the words of G-d that I would protect his land and his people. I couldn’t help but smile as I saluted the general of our division of soldiers as he handed me my gun, my Tanach, and I placed them together over my heart. Chills and emotions filled my body – I really felt as though I had become more a part of the society of Israel, the army more specifically. Next, as we put our guns in a specific position, Hatikvah, the Israeli national anthem was played – my national anthem. I was overcome with pride and small tears came to my eyes. The army may be hard and even scary in the present and/or future, but I felt like I was in the right place at that moment and that is a super feeling. In addition, having friends and my sister there only made it that much more special.

It’s not a mystery that life in Israel, especially in the army, has changed over the last few weeks. It is even acceptable to say life has changed for Jews across the world. I don’t think I could have ever imagined anything like this happening within the beginning stages of my service. War is real and scary. I won’t be involved in that intense of a matter at least until I finish all of my training (hopefully it will never happen). However, at my swearing-in ceremony, I thought and decided I really am ready to give whatever is needed of me, even if that means entering into a war zone and putting my life on the line. It may not be my first choice, but Israel is, that’s my job and I’m going to do it as best as I can.

I have now finished basic training and have learned a lot about the army, Israel, and myself. I now know how to fight with a group of people, how to even lead a group like this, and how to fire a gun at night with fairly good accuracy. I am about to begin a new part of the process as I will be learning for about 15 hours a day on the tank, more specifically my job. I am going to learn how to drive a tank, another imaginable thing about to happen. But for now, I think about what I’ve accomplished up to this point and keep returning to the reasons of why I’m here, regardless if there is a war mere kilometers from me. I swear to be me and to try to learn as much as I can for this country. I swear to be the best soldier I can be. I swear to do all that I can to defend the Jewish homeland and the Jewish people. I swear.

And they're OFF...

December 12

After a very long day three weeks ago I finally arrived at the army base which would be my pseudo-home for many upcoming days. There were a lot of buildings, a lot of tanks, and a lot of sand. Some people were giddy, others in shock…I was plainly taking it all in.

We didn’t sleep much that night after doing necessary paperwork which included requesting which part of the tanks we wanted to be in. My last choice was the one I received, which was strange because I had been “guaranteed” otherwise to be with the two other Garin Tzabar members that I knew. This put me into the shick phase for some brief moments because I was now officially a lone soldier, knowing nobody.

The first week we spent doing random things, learning how to stand correctly, make our rooms, orderly, and how holy time really is in the army. However, it was hard for me to really “enjoy” much because I was focusing my attention on moving to be with two other guys instead of trying to make new friends. By the end of the week I hadn’t yet been moved but was given an opportunity to speak in Tel Aviv to high school students and the mayor about Aliyah. I realized within the week that Aliyah was no longer what it had been at the kibbutz, but a real-life deal with hard moments. I was able to spend Thanksgiving with Allison and Justin and the weekend at the kibbutz clearing my mind. It was time to get back to the grind and enter week two.

It started off with being late (never good in the army), falling and opening up a large, deep cut on my hand on thorns, and sitting in the infirmary wondering why I chose what I was doing. I was…doubting myself. How had I let these negative thoughts enter my mind? I said to myself that the next day I was starting from scratch, no joking this time. The plan worked wonderfully. Everyone found it funny the way I spoke Hebrew (I guess I don’t blame them) and I took the role I thought I would – the spirit-lifter. Anytime anyone would seem tired or depressed, I’d say hi, smile, and get the “David!” screamed in their stereotypical Israeli accents. I would say, “Wake up guys! We are guarding the land of Israel today!” I was giving the moving idea second thoughts.

At the end of the week we received our personal weapons (M-16 m-4) and camped out for two nights. We began learning how to fire them and experience what it’s like to put tents up in the cold and attempt to sleep in those conditions, too. Also we started the mental training of what it’s like to hardly eat anything, get close to no sleep, and still be asked to do all of the physicality of the training. We did our first Masa, journey, of 3 kilometers, a build-up of distance until the big one at the end of all of the training. I was so-so on my M-16, but it felt strangely exciting to have my own gun, even if the responsibility was up there as one of the tops in my life.

We finished the week with a לילה לבן, lilah lavan (“White Night”) where we basically stayed up until 6 AM without prior knowledge doing a lot of random cleaning and pushups. I had more importantly made the decision that I didn’t come to do this for anyone but myself and I was going to stick it out. On Shabbat I realized how right of a decision that was, as spending it on the base made us all much closer. It was quickly on to week three.

We spent almost every hour of it camping out and working on the firing range again. This time was a little different – less food, colder, but actual practice on targets and various styles of shooting. Sure I was exhausted and hungry – but I looked at what I was doing and I was genuinely having a good time. I was even making my commanders laugh behind the scenes with my enthusiasm and yelling of butchered Hebrew, particularly when I do pushups on the side. The other guys and I had a great relationship – I give a positive attitude all the time, laughs, and maturity and they give Hebrew help and friendships. It felt and feels pretty great.

The last day in the “shetach” as it’s called (meaning campground or area) had us practicing something and somewhat realistic – running 100 meters, crawling 10, then another 90 (all with our vests and helmet and gun) then firing four shots from 50 meters…and all within one minute and 45 seconds. This whole week made me begin to feel like the Israeli soldier I was coming here for in the first place. We closed out the week with a 4.5 kilometer masa and a lot of laughs together. Having an American name has made me (in)famous throughout the whole base, especially how I always scream in Hebrew. I even have gotten the generals to crack a smile here and there.

The first three weeks are in the books. My body is continuously sore, I have layers of dirt on my hands I don’t think will ever leave, and I eat anything I get my hands on as if I have never eaten in my life. But there is something the army teaches you which is really neat to see transform and that is that there is a switch you have in your brain that lets you shut out everything except the task at hand. And with that, the army also has taught me to appreciate everything even more – the little food I get, the hours of sleep I receive, and the personal time I have to talk with whomever, shower, and just think. The language barrier has been tough and will continue to be. But at this point, I have a new found confidence in my abilities as a basic soldier and I know that will improve along with the Hebrew. The basic training is halfway done, but the life learning is only beginning – just the way I want it to be.

One Moment - Going to the Army

November 23

“Look. If you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted, one moment. Would you capture it? Or just let it slip?” – Eminem

Everyone remembers the beginnings of some big journeys or adventures. So much anticipation leads up to the big moment, so much so that we sometimes psyche ourselves out with expectations that don’t come to fruition. Feelings of nervousness, excitement, fear, anxiety are all rolled up into one, which is commonly referred to as “The First Day.”

We have all experienced First Days where we felt all of those aforementioned emotions: the first day of kindergarten, starting at a new school, a sport tryout day, the big game, moving to a new city or country, etc. Even if some of those things didn’t give us only positive outcomes, especially immediately, it all ended up being okay. All of the buildup…and then it happens… Now I have a new First Day to the list – the army.

I’ve said before that I couldn’t really imagine myself doing something like this just a few years ago. The army isn’t a fun thing – we’re talking about guns, tanks, canons…and they’re all real. But all of those imaginary thoughts I used to have are about to be thrown away because it’s all about to be super-real.

Israeli children (for the most part) know this day in their lives is imminent, for better or for worse. But there is something special that my other Garin members and I have in common – this is OUR choice. Nobody else’s When I ask myself what I’m doing here, at this moment, I know why – If not me, then who? If not now, when? I could be travelling in Thailand right now. I could be playing soccer in Brazil. It’s my life and I get to choose what I do, and that’s a beautiful thing. I am doing the thing I know best – helping the Jewish people. That’s how I feel.

Sure, I’m scared. Heck, soon I’ll be riding in a tank that can destroy a lot of things. I would also be lying if I didn’t say how excited I am. This is awesome! I get to help protect a land that needs to be here for Jewish generations to come. I get to be a part of that history, that responsibility, and that is a genuinely great feeling.

The times are going to be tough. Everything in my life is changing. I don’t control when I sleep, eat, or go to the bathroom. In addition, personal time to do things like this and write become close to zero. However, what I do control is my positive thoughts and optimistic outlook on everything I’m doing. All I need to do is remember why I came here to do what I’m doing, and I know I won’t have any problems.

I’m taking my best shot at seizing everything I ever wanted. I’m contributing to the land and the people of which I feel a strong connection. There aren’t many things better than that. No regrets. No fears. Focus on what’s at hand and success is destined. Will I capture this moment or just let it slip? This is an opportunity of a lifetime and I feel fortunate to have it. I’m grabbing on – and never letting go. The Israeli army: this is my time – our time.

Combat is the Best - Part 2

November 9

The next week’s workout (October 2) might have possibly had the most different mentality than carrying the telephone pole. We started by going to the room near where we start every time and grabbing sandbags. Each guy was responsible for carrying a bag of 20 kilograms (44 pounds) and each girl was responsible for carrying a bag of 15 kilograms (33 pounds). We made our way across the road and were at the face of a very steep hill.

Before we knew it, we were instructed to turn in our watches so as to not know how long we would be working for and to go up the hill as fast as possible. Once we reached the top, we were told to go back down and back up until he said to stop. When we wanted water at the top, we still had to maintain control of the sandbags on our shoulders. Our success in this one was individually based only…helping others wasn’t an option and this made it very difficult. Some threw up, everyone was in pain, and finally we made our way down another trail as he said we were done. The only thing was, we weren’t…he instructed us that in the army, it’s not over until it’s over. Another few times up and down with the sand and then it was finally over. We had hoped we learned this lesson well.

At the beginning of the next week’s exercise (October 7), he told us it would be simple because it was before Yom Kippur and people had physical tests for the army coming up. We began running in the fields across from our kibbutz and we covered about 4 kilometers of ground in all while doing about 100 pushups and 60 sit-ups along the way. Then, like every week when we stop, we ate some food and got back in the car. But, in the end, I guess we didn’t learn our lesson from the week before – almost instantly, we stopped, were yelled at to get out of the car, and were ready to go with a stretcher full of about 60 kilograms (132 pounds). We continued with this another 4 kilometers or so and this was a very hard task. Once the brain shuts off the hard task we had of running, it’s hard to switch it back to carrying that weight for a long distance. I was happy I had a chance to feel this first hand, as I’m sure in the army things like will happen numerous times.

The next week (October 15), we began as we had many times before by carrying a stretcher with a lot of weight from sandbags. After finishing this time, we ran sprints and did crawling, and running to different points on the other side of the circle we were standing on. The only thing with all of these exercises was that our space kept getting smaller and smaller, therefore meaning we kept running into each other or crawling on top of each other. Our guide was trying to teach us to focus on the task, not always on other things going on around us.

The following week (October 22), only five of us showed up and our guide cancelled doing anything with us. He said if we weren’t serious as a group, then he wouldn’t do it with us because it wasn’t worth his time. We were all ready to go, however, so we decided to do our own. We were going to run to his kibbutz, get the stretcher and be ready, do whatever he then wanted, then run back. I felt really motivated for this since we were showing him and ourselves we were serious. Yet, I don’t think any of us realized what we were really doing.

It was a 5 kilometer run there and we decided once we got there we were going to surprise him at his house. We put our tallest man (who was trying out for the elite navy unit the following week) on the stretcher, weighing about 75 kilograms (165 pounds). We took a very long route to his house and had our man Gal on the stretcher for 40 minutes. We got to his house and were ready to go. The only thing was he was very busy so we returned the stretcher and ran back home another 5 kilometers. We had just run 10 kilometers and had all that weight on our shoulders for 40 minutes straight without a break. We had also proven to ourselves that we could handle a lot thrown our way.

The finale (October 29) had arrived. We knew for this one we would combine everything we had done and learned to complete the final task. We were going to be doing a pseudo mission. We were going to become the mifakdeem (commanders) and we were going to have to solve everything on our own.

First, we were told of the mission – stopping Arab terrorists by putting a barrier on the road and ambushing them. Then we were off. We used the telephone pole as our barrier and walked with it for about 1 hour and 45 minutes. Along the way we had to also try to get everyone over a ‘mine field’ with just the pole as our mode of transportation. There are no breaks with the pole and our shoulders were very much in pain.

Next we set up for the ambush. We camouflaged ourselves and the barrier and got ready to hide and attack. We lied still for 30 minutes and waited but never got our signal from our acting commander. I found it very neat, however, that we all kept our cool and quiet throughout the whole thing instead of messing up the ambush.

After that we quickly threw the pole into the bushes and picked up a stretcher with 80 kilograms on it. We went with this for 1 hour and 15 minutes and did so on very steep hills and muddy, thick plants. Although all of us were at the point of exhaustion, we knew ourselves well enough that we had a little something left in the tank. So when we had to run as fast as we could up a very steep incline after over four hours of physical work, we knew we would succeed, as long as we believed it and worked together. We finished it all and had made the end. Great food and coffee was at the end for us and we talked about the last two months of physicality we had just endured.

See, when it comes to the army, people must throw out their personal pride and substitute it with team and group unity. We had all learned something very valuable. Two weeks from today I’ll venture down to the south of Israel to begin basic training, essentially alone and scared and in shock. But that’s okay…because I have this to lean on amonth other things, knowing (as Stephen Curry, a basketball player from Davidson University says), “I can do all things.”