Week 13

The beginning of the week wasn’t too hard. We’re in Shavua Meamen 2 – we have a similar schedule as the first week of Meamen: one day at the fake villag,, one day at the shooting Range with a fake room We do live shooting drills in, and one day in the simulator. This week we worked on opening up rooms as pairs, with one partner covering the other while he opens the room. 

On Sunday, we had another fitness checkup. I lowered my 3k time to 11:47 and my 2×150 Sprint to 47 seconds  

At the shooting range, I approached the Mefaked Machlaka to speak about two things: Hagnam, and my experience the previous week. Lone soldiers have the opportunity during Hagnam To leave and work a job to earn extra money. The money would be helpful. Why not ,but I also I just rally want a break. (I didn’t use the break as a point of Persuasion).  He said he understood and told me how to go about organizing it  

In regards to the difficulties I’d had the previous week, and honestly Even before then, feeling isolated as a lone soldier, He told me he completely understood. He spoke a little bit about his experience when he was in training and about how he understands the challenges I’m going through. He thanked me for bringing it up With him. 

Monday we were at the simulator all day and Tuesday we were at the לשב”יה – לחימה בשטח בנוי – the fake village. At the lashabia, we also practiced with ATK – a form of paintball. The M16 rifles are the same, but the mechanisms and bullets within are changed. They also places a “terrorist” (one of our classmates) within the room and had him shoot at us as we were opening the rooms by rotating around the doorposts. It’s meant to give us an actual feeling of being shot at. The Mefaked Machlaka recognized that in this drill and in many others, were operating as if there isn’t a real threat. “Once you open up a room and there are real bullets flying by, or you encounter a terrorist with your squad and he starts shooting at you for real, you’ll do the drill properly”. He’s absolutely right. As soon as we had the paintballs shot in our direction, and there was a real danger of being hit, we started tucking our arms in, concealing our bodies more behind the doorpost, and overall in better form. 

At night, the Mefaked Machlaka read us the Ramatkals message about the 30 year anniversary of Rabin’s assassination. 

We were then given sand bags, stood in a line to weigh ourselves, and filled our bags with the according amount of sand. Enough so that with all our other gear, the equipment we’d carry would come out to 30% body weight. 

We continued with the same drills at night; not necessarily because there’s a difference between night and day (we illuminated the whole area with bright string lights) but just so that they could shove in as many hours of practice into one day.

Back at the plugs, I had a classmate give me a haircut in the shower since we were in the middle of the 21 and my hair was getting a bit too long for the army.

The next day was more shooting drills at the range. We practiced the drills we’d been doing but with live rounds and checked off a lot of boxes for shooting test requirements to pass our stage of training. For 05 (the training clearance level), you need to do certain drills, like shooting while walking, Yahalom – shooting after raising your heart rate by sprinting, and other random evaluations.


Now. I’d say throughout these first 3 months of the army, I’ve been generally positive. There have been hard times, of course, but I’ve been happy to be here. Happy to be doing something meaningful and grateful to be a part of tzahal. Of course the punishments are hard and annoying but I brush them off with the knowledge that thats only during tironut and their aim is to annoy you and get under your skin. I’ve known that I’m in the right place for me.

Wednesday night was the first time I fell into the dangerous train of thought of “Why am I here?” “Why did I decide to give up everything? To do this crazy thing of drafting at 25?”

Wednesday night was the Masa Samal. The last masa we had done was a 10 + 2: 10 kilometers plus 2 carrying stretchers. The Masa Samal was 14+3…but with 30% body weight in our bags. Im 86Kg – after the sand bags and equipment, I was 112 Kg. It’s a huge jump from one masa to the next – both physically and mentally. Your shoulders are in pain the entire time. You try to readjust your gun to find a more comfortable position and hold the front of the vest so that the weight in the back doesnt pull it down and choke you, but nothing really helps. It’s just painful and you have to accept that.

As if that wasn’t enough, through the course of the march, I twisted my ankle 6 times. You can tie your boots tight, look out for rocks and declines in the dirt, but ultimately it’s just a matter of luck. And I got unlucky. The last twist was near the end of the 14 and I happened to be by the end of the pack near the mefaked machlaka. I continued the last 50 meters supported by two other soldiers and when we stopped the march to take out the stretchers, the mefaked machlaka told me I’d be going on the stretcher.

I was mixed about it. Thankful that I didn’t have to continue walking – I really don’t know how I would have done it with my ankle – but apologetic that my classmates would have to carry me. I’m not a small guy.

They managed, and we all finished the Masa Samal in one piece. At the summary in the pluga ,the Mefaked Machlaka reminded us that this masa, this seemingly incredibly hard masa, was not even half the length of the masaot we would be doing. Lucky us.

I barely slept at night because of the ankle pain. In the morning, we packed our bags for parachute course, but before leaving, had a special barbecue by the shooting range where American volunteers served us food. I met Christian volunteers from Dallas who had served in the American Air Force for 30 years. I told them my story and heard theirs and they were incredibly grateful and mainly bewildered/amazed at my choice to draft. They told me to block out the noise of all the Israel hate; there’s an incredible amount of people who love Israel. It’s nice to be reminded of that.

We traveled to Tel Nof jump school and on the first day learned how to enter and exit the plane properly; all the little turns, exclamations, and procedures once you get on the plane. It’s a place steeped in tradition. Before and after every lesson, we stand at attention and when the commander says “Ayp”, we raise our heads to the sky and “Chofshi” we lower. On the plane before takeoff, they raise and lower their hands while we chant “A” “O” “A” “O”.

On Friday we learned how to fall correctly in different directions and then returned back to base. Shabbat was nice and calm; on Friday night, I pulled out a deck of cards and, even though all the nonreligious guys have their phones, somehow convinced them to play poker with me. I read and slept a bunch, elevating and icing my ankle in preparation of the week to come.

On Saturday night, we had our first “Bochen Tzevet” training session. I’d never heard of it before. It’s a 2 Km run on a beach in a team of 8 where you all carry a sack of 20 KG on your back and carry a stretcher with 80Kg on it. There are 4 people on the stretcher, everyone runs alongside a partner, and every minute you alternate your partner. We practiced with no weight, working just on the switching at a slow pace to get a feel for it. It’ll be a challenge to do it for real eventually.

The week ended on a high note. Excitement all around the plugs in anticipation of our first full week of jump school.