Heavier Weapons and Fieldcraft

Last week, six guys from each platoon were sent to heavy weapons courses or to a driving course. The driving course is for APC's (armored personnel carriers), and is, frankly, quite a waste of time. The IDF rarely uses them and after the recent war in Lebanon, an Israeli general would have to be functionally retarded if he thinks he can transport his soldiers around in what are basically armored coffins. The Hizbollah has the new Russian Kornet anti-tank missle that can be fired by a mobile crew of three, and it is making the IDF's tank corps rethink how it operates. The APC's are completely helpless in combat in a mountainous or built up area and no amount of re-strategizing will change that. It may still be worthwhile to go into an Arab village in the Judea or Samaria in an APC, since Hamas doesn't have anti-tank missles yet. But if soldiers need only be protected from small arms fire, an armored Jeep would be better, faster and cheaper.

Most of the guys were sent to heavy weapons courses for such destructive wonders as the automatic grenade launcher - it requires a crew of four and fires 100's of grenades (actually small shells) per minute. This is an amazing piece of equipment, it basically provides short range artillery firepower. Another heavy weapon some of my friends trained on is the mortar, your well-known support weapon whose real worth is in it's ability to shoot accurately over an obstacle to hit the intended target. Finally, we have the .50 caliber Browning machine gun. This thing was designed in 1906, used in World War I and is, still, 100 years later, absolutely the best heavy machine gun in the world. Because you have to be quite strong to carry them around, the guys that were sent to train on these weapons were the bigger, stronger ones. I am a relative weakling, so the heavy weapons aren't for me. Most of us didn't attend these courses and spent last week doing a little bit of everything - running, shooting, guarding, taking care of equipment, cleaning, resting. There was a two day period where the guarding and training occured, in an alternating basis, for 48 hours straight, so the lack of sleep was painful.

This week, however, is the real story. It is dubbed "Fieldcraft Week" and is basically five days of what can only be described as torture. We started it off by not sleeping on Saturday night and preparing all of our equipment instead. At 2:30 am on Sunday morning, we marched out, each carrying an average of 70 lbs, in heavy rain and freezing wind, and spent two painful hours covering hilly, muddy ground to get to a barren, windswept hillside where we "slept" for a few hours before starting the day. The five days that followed are hard to describe. We lived in the field, sleeping in worthless old sleeping bags on the cold ground without even a basic tent. We averaged 3 hours of sleep per night, and it was sleep interrupted by ever-annoying guard duty. We ate 2 meals a day of dry rations, and since there wasn't much food in each rations box and we were given an absurdly small window of time to eat it in, the hunger effect was easily achieved. But, as bad as the lack of sleep, exposure to the FREEZING Negev nights, and undereating were, the actual substance of what we did was even harder.

We spent the days, and most of the nighttime as well, marching around with our equipment, practicing various small unit maneuvers, carrying the "wounded." This last part is the most painful exercise ever. You are already exhausted because you are never allowed to take your fully loaded vest off, even when you sleep. Since you also carry additional packs on and off over the course of the day, and wear yourself out crawling and walking up hills, your body goes into a certain state of shock. Having very little sleep makes the situation even worse. To then be forced to carry each other over that same rough terrain is taking the human body and asking it to go above and beyond.

I can't relate in words the feeling of carrying a stretcher. You have an angry pain in your shoulder from where the handle digs into the bone and muscle. You completely forget that before you lifted the stretcher you thought your personal vest and pack alone were tough to carry. Your eyes are focused on the ground, as there's no trail and you are negotiating holes, bushes and rocks. Your back aches from the weight, your leg muscles alternate between burning and numbness. You have to focus all of your mental and physical energy to cover the ground quickly, and you have to avoid thinking about when the excercise will end. It can go on for 20 minutes, or for two hours. You can be going on flat ground, uphill or downhill. People will take turns under the stretcher, and sometimes you'll break the stretcher down and just carry each other one-on-one, the ultimate punishment.

When you're stopped by your commanders and you look over the ground you've covered, the distance and the type of ground it was, you're genuinely confused. There's no possible way I did that, it doesn't make sense. And you're right, it doesn't. Only in the military framework can your body actually perform such extreme activities. I have to honestly say, I can't imagine how I did what I did for five days on next to no sleep. It's totally bizarre and I wonder how I didn't just injure out at some point. I have to attribute it to adrenaline, and to the fact that the mind is, in fact, stronger than the body.

Since my company is the best company ever, we got to do helicopter training during our fieldcraft week. Technically, we were supposed to do this much later on, but the officers decided that since we were so meturafim, insane (in a good way), that they were going to incorporate helicopters into the week's fun. We were picked up in random fields and dropped off on even more random hilltops. From the hilltops, we continued with our usual fieldcraft activities, the helicopter being some sort of a surreal interlude. Watching the machine land, feeling the force of the wind lashing against your body, charging against the wind to get into the helicopter, strapping in, looking out the open back as you fly over mountainous ground, rushing out, and hearing the helicopter fly away as you move in formation towards your next objective - it's quite an experience. During the day, it's more of a scenic experience. At night, the helicopter ride feels like something out of a video game.

Another aspect of fieldcraft is digging observation posts and fire points. You basically dig into a hillside, put up some rocks and earth around the post for protection, camoflauge it with bushes and leaves, and you have a location to hide, rest, collect intelligence or take on the enemy. Digging and carrying rocks around is actually kind of relaxing relative to our other activities. At the end of the week, my squad was commended by the company commander for being the best overall, although I think he was most impressed by our manuevering. He promised some sort of a chupar, reward, and we all hope it means going home a day early for some Shabbat. Time at home is the single best way the army can reward someone. Conversely, taking that time at home away is the single best way to punish us.

This upcoming week will be similar to fieldcraft week, but a bit more realistic. The training companies of our battalion are taking on the veteran companies in a war game in the Golan Heights. Clearly, we're going to get beat, badly. But it's all in good fun. I am just hoping that our commanders give us a break and we spend more time laying around and waiting and less time running and covering ground with heavy packs. Sadly, I am sure that next week will feature a lack of sleep and combat rations. Those two aspects of field life are hard to avoid.

Intense Week, Emotional Finish

This past week was quite difficult. We learned how to move in tactical pairs. Although the week was supposed to be just about that one set of skills, it turned into an experience that included far more. We lived in the field, slept in old American sleeping bags, ate the same dry canned food thrice daily, and were continually cold and dirty. Out of every 24 hours, we spent only 2 sleeping. The rest of the time was filled with practicing various stances, crawling, carrying each other in stretchers or one-on-one. When not in motion, we were generally disallowed from sitting down and resting our feet. The body eventually enters into a state of exhaustion. Never being able to take off a fully-loaded vest takes a tremendous toll on one's energy levels. Just to make sure we didn't get bored, we also had some long runs. If you think you're in shape, try this one at home - strap 30 lbs of weight to your body and crawl up a 60 degree inclined hill for about 100 yards as fast as you can; run down; run 100 yards back up; run back down. That's one set. Do as many as you can with 2 minutes in between. Forget any sports practices you may have had, this is brutal.

After three days of the above-described fun, we had a long, but surprisingly not difficult, march. It could be that I am getting used to it, or it could be that the pace wasn't as fast as previous marches. At the end of the march, we finished up with a sprint up a hill, at the top of which our officers lit bonfires and we heard an inspiring speech by our deputy company commander. The highlight was that we finally got the shoulder tag of our unit. The rest of the pins and patches will take a long time to earn. Following some decent sleep (finally!), we had a day of conditioning on base. Lots of push-ups, sprints, and negotiating the obstacle course with full gear. Most of us didn't care what physical activity we were required to do, we were just happy to eat good food and have access to bathrooms.

Thursday, the fifth day in the Hebrew week, was a great day. We were taken on a tour of areas in East Jerusalem and the Old City where fighting took place in 1967. Old-school veterans shared their stories, and eventually we walked through the Moslem quarter and came into the plaza of the Kotel (the Western Wall). After an expected amount of turmoil and confusion, we were ready for the swearing-in ceremony. Lone soldiers were taken into the Border Police compound at the Temple Mount, where high level officers congratulated us on our commitment and gave us free stuff, again. I don't know what to do with all the cookies and shampoo the army keeps giving me.

After my special treatment as a lone soldiers ended, I rejoined my unit. We were all lined up in a tunnel that leads into the Kotel plaza, singing songs and getting riled up for the ceremony. The plaza itself was completely filled with a good 10,000 friends, family and other well-wishers. Finally, we marched out in some sort of order and took our places along the gun racks for our unit. All the platoons were arranged around an open area where the IDF's top brass spoke to us about Zionism, service and the upcoming threats. The audience was loud, the TV cameramen were having a great time filming us and projecting the images real time onto two massive screens in the center of the plaza. The atmosphere might as well be described as electric.

The head Rabbi of the IDF spoke at length about Joshua's conquest of Israel in Tanachic times and about the modern day's IDF connection to the warriors of ancient Israel. We were then each given a gun and a Tanach (Old Testament+Prophets+Writings). The gun we got was actually not ours, but just the next one on the gun rack. We were expected to exchange with each other after the ceremony until everyone had his gun. Leave it up to Israelis to actually plan for disorganization. The handing out of the Tanachim and the M-16's took place to a set of religious songs, "Shir Ha'Maalot" and "Adon Olam" amongst them, set to more modern tunes.

Finally, we all screamed out "Ani Nishba," meaning "I swear." Or, for those who for religious reasons refuse to swear, it was "Ani Matzhir," meanign "I declare." The climax was the Hatikva, the national anthem. About 500 soldiers and the well over 10,000-strong crowd all sang in unison in what I can only descibe as the single most uplifting moment in my life so far. The elation I felt can only be understood by someone who harbors intense Zionist feelings and fully internalizes the importance the IDF has in keeping this little enterprise we call the State of Israel alive. It was simply awesome. Once it ended, there was lots of hugging, families taking pictures and lots of young men excited by the fact that they are allowed to bring their gun home for the first time. I am not 18, but I can't say I wasn't somewhat giddy about the prospect myself.

This Shabbat has been spent reading and eating. Someone asked me what do I "do" as an oleh, an immigrant, in Israel. So I thought I'd share it with my general readership:

Aside from the army, I hang out in Jerusalem with all the other American olim. We comprise about a quarter of the population, and if you add all the tourists/students/work visa Americans, it's a whole "thing" to be a English-speaker here. Guys learn in yeshivot, girls in midrashot, people study in Hebrew university. Those in a different stage work in various jobs. Many people work in certain fields that have a fetish for hiring Americans. Some are wealthy, some are not. People rent apartments, do shabbat meals, date, go out, daven. Conversations about aliyah issues are common, and you can always find out what/how/where/when. People complain about phone bills, bank fees and the left-wing monkeys who run this country. The secular, and the less religious, have premarital relations. Young religious people who used to be secular have lapses with drinking and hooking up, although it depends on what crowd you're with.

The food, as is well know, is really good. My apartment is fully kosher and there are sometimes extra people hanging out or sleeping on couches. In other words, we live life, abide by the Torah as best as an unmarried person can, and go on long walks.

Life is more Jewish here, and if you make an effort, it's completely Jewish in every way that is possible. At the same time, there are practical sides of life that you have to get through. So far, no one I know is even thinking about going back. Zionist feeling is strong and there are many things to love about this place. The current aliyah trend taps into a very strong group of people who make this place their own, despite the problems. I don't know how it is for the totally secular crowd, they must have a more difficult time, but they are hanging in there.

On the whole, life here is very good. Once you figure out how this place works, and you forget about materialist desires, it's quite a pleasant place to live, not even taking into account the Zionist imperative and the goodness of being a nation in its own land.

There's also a large community of guys like me, who volunteered for the IDF in their 20's, so there are plenty of people with whom I have a lot in common in terms of my particular aliyah experience.

By the way, if any of my readers know anyone who may be interested in aliyah and/or IDF service, forward this website address to them. As far as I know, there are no blogs out there quite like mine.

Basic Weapons Skills, Group Dynamics and Social Representation in my IDF unit

These past two weeks have been physically demanding, but have also included what we've all been waiting for - weapons training. Movies and imaginations aside, the way that a soldier is trained to use weapons is done in such a way so as to make the experience as safe and as precise as possible. This is done both to ensure that no one gets injured and to instill the idea in the mind of every IDF soldier that weapons aren't toys, and there's nothing fun about them, at least not in the childish way that "fun" is perceived when we see "action" in movies. It all starts with the fact that we carried our guns around for quite sometime before we learned to take them apart and to check them for safety. A certain amount of time after that, we finally got to shoot, but very little. Eventually, we got to shoot a lot. The way shooting works in training is clearly focused on developing safety awareness and technical skill. There's no room for flair.

The discipline at the shooting range is much stricter than anywhere else on base. The fact that various equipment needs to be brought out to the shooting range and back, makes the soldiers physically stressed. Getting out to the range and back turned into mini-marches. While some groups were shooting, others were doing calisthenics, crawling or practicing getting into and out of various shooting positions. This last activity sounds fun but is actually physically quite draining. Holding the kneeling position for five minutes, with the gun and body properly aligned, is very difficult.

At this point, we are all very comfortable with our cut-off M-16's, and many of us are excellent shots. We also spent a whole day throwing a grenade. Yes, it apparently does take a full day to have each soldier in a platoon throw one live grenade. Between the practicing and the random running up hills, throw-a-grenade day turned out to be quite hard. The army has a way of making you get tired and give you a workout when you least expect it. Last week also featured a day of kitchen duty, random cleaning and dealing with equipment issues. The low point was the two days and nights of guard duty - 2 hours of guarding, 4 hours rest, 2 hours guarding, 4 hours rest, and so on for 48 hours. I can assure you, this is an unpleasant experience.

It's becoming very clear that out of the 120 guys in my company, 60-70 maximum will finish the training. A lot of people can't mentally handle the IDF training atmosphere. The commanders haven't kicked people out, but some have quit on their own. Our company commander always states that anyone who doesn't feel it's for him can be transfered out. From the experiences of the older guys, a 50% attrition rate during training is pretty standard for the IDF. Although it seems high, it does make sense. Not everyone is cut out for it, and there are many jobs to be filled in the IDF that need these guys to drop out. So as they leave, I am not too disappointed to see them go. In some cases, they can't leave soon enough. The guys that are totally not meant for this type of environment generally cause problems for the other soldiers and that leads to interpersonal tensions. Group dynamics is the absolute key to a successful unit, far more important that such silly things as military skills or physical fitness. People can be trained and made more fit. But if someone can't work in a team, and give of his energy to his fellow teammates, that's a personality trait that is difficult to change.

In fact, it's becoming clear that the single most important element in one's success in the IDF is how well you can work with others and how patient you can be. You have be a giver, not a taker. Someone who contributes in even the smallest matters, and not someone who takes advantage and lets others do the work. Some people naturally have that mentality, some are developing it as training goes on, and the rest are going to fall into that 50% that is going to go on to other jobs in the IDF.

I know my company quite well and the following statistics should give my readers a taste of who is defending Israel these days. In the following, I list the social subgroup, its percentage of my company, and then (in parenthesis) its percentage of the draftable Israeli population.

National-religious - 37% (21%)
urban secular - 16% (40%)
(excluding olim)
Jewish Russian olim - 7% (12%)
Non-Jewish Russians - 9% (6%)
Ethiopians - 4% (2%)
Kibbutzniks - 9% (2%)
Moshavniks - 10% (2%)
French Olim - 2% (2%)
English-speaking Olim - 10% (4%)
Ultra-Orthodox - 0% (10%)

I note that the percentages add up to over 100. This is because of overlap in many categories and because I ignored fractions for simplicity's sake. For example, the national-religious and English-speaking immigrants have some overlap. This is done on purpose as my readers would be interested in the English-speaking sector regardless of their observance level. But the general point still stands, even if the math isn't completely precise. I should also note that the draftable population currently stands at 5.7 million, including 5.4 million Jews and 300,000 non-Jewish Russians. For clarification, olim means immigrants. The national-religious, or dati-leumi, are Orthodox, but participate fully in society. They are most certainly not to be confused with the hareidim, the ultra-orthodox.

As you can see from the simple analysis of my unit, there's a shortage of Zionism in the secular sector, and a total absence of it in the ultra-Orthodox sector.

So, who is defending Israel in 2006? Not the ultra-Orthodox and not the secular urbanites. Those secular, urban, Israel-born, middle class kids who did get into my unit, are almost surely going to drop out by the end of training, although there will be some exceptions of course. They are simply the least motivated to be there.

The higher quality people who will in the end finish training with me will be some combination of national-religious guys, new immigrants (russian or american), kibbutzniks and moshavniks. The materialistic life that the secular middle-class in this country leads, and their lack of Jewish-Zionist values, make it almost impossible for them to succeed in the army.

Clearly, I want the greater Tel-Aviv area to return to having Jewish identity and a Zionist ideology. They are, after all, just as much a part of the Jewish physical and spiritual whole as anyone else in Israel. I also want the ultra-orthodox to show some Zionism to go along with their Jewish observance. I used to get angry at the ideological slackers of Israeli society, and I still do from time to time. But as I get to know them as individuals and I start to understand what education they had and what cultural influences affected them, I cannot blame them. They should serve in other units in the IDF, not in mine. In some cases, they shouldn't serve at all. Only those who are commited to some sort of set of Jewish values are needed. And if there's one place we don't need self-hating anti-Zionist Jews, it's right here in Eretz Israel. A lot of work needs to be done in Israeli education to keep those on the spiritual fringe connected to Judaism and to Zionism. The good news is that those who are Zionist are incredibly strong and can pull some of the dead weight. After all, what normal society can get 100% agreement on anything? I'll take the 80% recruitment rate of Jewish males and be happy with it. There's room for improvement, but we're holding fast (that should be the State of Israel's motto).