Field/Survival
Week
Throughout the
first four weeks of the program we had heard rumors about field week; what
physical training it would entail, where we would be “sleeping”, and which
thorn bushes we would be crawling through. By the time we had gotten on the bus
taking us to the settlement in Judea where we would be staying, “shetach week”
had reached epic, mythical proportions in our minds. As I tried to catch some
shuteye on the bus, I mentally prepared myself for the ensuing onslaught by
reminding myself that, no matter what happens, I would be home Friday afternoon
for Shabbat. I can endure anything for 4 days.
I briefly
reflected…on what almost was, and what will someday be; wearing a suit,
Starbucks coffee in hand, gearing up for a big meeting in New York City and I
could only chuckle at the fact that within minutes I would be running,
crawling, and dirtying myself in the hills of Judea preparing for the physical
and mental rigors of life in the field. The choices we make…
We arrived,
seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and told we had two minutes to get ready
for a Masah (a long army hike/run/march with all of our belongings on our
backs). With a commander we had never met, (who spoke no English), we set off
for the darkness at 12:30 AM. For the next three hours we hiked, marched and
ran through bushes, rocks, mountains, fields and an endless supply of mud and
dirt. Every so often we would have to get low to the ground, as we were near
hostile Arab villages and we didn’t want to be seen, and periodically we would
have to hop barbed wired fences, always using each other as launching pads to
catapult us and our bags over the fence.
We eventually
made our way to a huge barn, where we were told we could take our bags off and
prepare for bed in the haystacks in the corner of the barn. There were about
200 sheep in the stable inside the barn, with chickens and goats everywhere,
and a few dogs playing the role of Barn Patrol. It was probably the most inhospitable
environment I could ever imagine falling asleep in, but at 4:00 am, after an
all-night hike, I couldn’t reach the hay fast enough! We rotated guard duty all
night, but unlike in our apartment in Jerusalem where we largely do it for
practice, here guard duty was of the utmost importance because every few nights
Arabs from the town over try to steal the sheep and wreck havoc on the place.
Welcome to Field
Week.
Field week continued with that same intensity for 4 days. We were
sleep deprived, ate the same canned tuna and bread at every meal, shit in the
woods, and pushed our bodies and minds as far they could go. The toughest part
for me was the mental anguish of never knowing what would come next; whether we
would be hiking, eating, running, sleeping crawling, doing drills or working in
the field. We never knew. This constant mind fuck and the feeling of always
being “on edge”, was, to me, the worst part of the week.
Like I mentioned, we stayed in a settlement in Judea (West Bank) for
4-5 days and we “slept” either on the aforementioned pile of hay in the barn, overcrowded
with sheep, and chickens, or we stayed in a freezing cold abandoned army base
(with wide open windows) on the top of a neighboring mountain. I put sleep in
quotations because at no point throughout the week did we sleep for more than
3-4 hours at a time, as we were constantly woken up at random hours to hike and
train. They took our watches the first night, to disorient us, so we never had
any real idea of what time it was during the night, except for when we were on
guard duty. For 4 days, we ate nothing but bread and jelly for breakfast- and
then bread, canned tuna, and canned beans for lunch and dinner every night,
with no snacks in between. We went to bed one night at 8:00 pm and were woken
up at midnight for a four hour hike, and then slept again for a few hours the
next day. We were always on the move and always disoriented.
We spent one morning doing manual labor in the fields, carrying and
using heavy metal rods to jam sticks into the ground to help prepare the
vineyards for the Spring. It was fucking brutal; dehydrating, exhausting, and
repetitive. While they told us it was to get used to the idea of doing mundane
and tedious work for (seemingly) no reason, (which happens all the time in the
army) I think they just relished the opportunity to have 20 pledges
(essentially), working their fields for free. Regardless, it was a cool experience, and for 4 hours, I got
to imagine that I was one of my Zionist pioneer heroes, who built this country
with nothing but hard work, ingenuity, and the desperation of knowing that for
our people, this was it. Our only hope of a better future for our children.
There was no going back to Europe or Arabia.
During a Masah, the first 15 minutes are always the worst. At the
beginning, I’m cold, my muscles are sore and not warmed up, and I struggle to
wake up. It’s amazing though…after a half hour, once I have a nice sweat going,
I actually get into a comfortable rhythm and feel like I could continue on
forever. There is no talking on a Masa, and, a lot of times, I put my mind
somewhere else as I climb through the hills. I would reminisce about the
summer, of fun college experiences, I would imagine what I would do with my
parents when they visited in 2 weeks, I would think of anything and everything.
As I breathed in the fresh mountain air of the Judean hills, feeling my lungs
hard at work, these awesome memories would energize me as I felt the love and
support from family and friends flow through my veins.
On Wednesday (I think) we stayed at an abandoned army base about a 3-hour
hike (my new form of measurement) away from the barn. In the morning, after yet
another hearty breakfast of bread, chocolate sauce and jelly, we practiced
shooting positions and infantry strategies using paintball guns (they were
actually real guns just adapted for paintball) and getting used to the sort of
training formations we will learn in the army. During the afternoon we actually
played paintball, but a more focused and structured paintball than is typical,
as we emulated wartime situations. We split into two teams and rotated playing
terrorists and soldiers: we recreated situations where soldiers would confront
an ambush, clear a hostile village, search house to house for a kidnapped
soldier etc. I had been nervous for the paintball because I was worried I would
be too nervous of getting shot to truly be effective, but as I’ve continually
found out over the past 5 weeks, fears are meant to be conquered and I am
tougher than I give myself credit for. It was the only part of the week that
was inherently fun. Actually, it was more than fun. It was fucking awesome.
One night while we were hiking up a mountain, our commander noticed
that some guys kept trying to avoid the thorn bushes. So he stopped us and told
us to lie down, flat on the ground, on top of the thorn bushes. He then told
us, as we were lying face down in a thorn bush, about Yoni Netanyahu,
coincidentally one of my heroes (he was the commander, and the only soldier who
died, during the incredible raid on Entebbe that rescued hundreds of kidnapped
Jews from Palestinian and Nazi terrorists in Uganda). He then recited Yoni’s
quote, something to the effect of, “I feel the thorns at my sides and grimace,
but then I realize that these are the land of Israel’s thorns, our thorns, and
I feel no pain, for I am home.” Here I was, laying down in the hills of Judea,
thorns all over my body, listening to my commander speak the words of my hero
about the beauty of the land of Israel. The sentiment lifted my spirits, I
breathed in the fresh Israeli mountain air, satisfied and awestruck that I
would get to fight for my people the way that Yoni Netanyahu and thousands of
proud young Jewish men and women had before me.
Merely lying in thorns was just a precursor though.
On the final day, after more trekking through the Judean hills, we
completed a 100-yard dash (holding a weapon) where we ran, crawled, and then,
for the grand finale, dove into a huge mud pile. Thinking that this awesome
relay must be the final event of field week, we were all ecstatic, cracking
jokes, thinking that we had reached the end. Instead, once everyone had
completed the dash, our commander yelled at us to pick up our rucksacks, as we
would be continuing our hike in our soaking, mud stained clothing. 20 minutes
later, at a field with huge thorn bushes, he told us to drop and crawl through
the thorns as fast as we could, as if he saw no reason why we would be
hesitant. Like I discussed in my last post, once you internalize the fact that
pain is temporary and that fear and hesitancy are mere mental blocks, we free
our bodies to move with reckless abandon. The faster I would crawl, the less it
would hurt, and the quicker I would complete the trek.
Later that night, they told us that we were heading out for another Masa
(long hike). My heart dropped; my
knees ached, my feet were torn up, and we hadn’t slept more than 4 hours in the
past four days. As we stood in formation, and as I mentally prepared myself for
the ensuing hike, our commander yelled at us to drop into pushup position on
our fists (we were standing on a rocky field) close our eyes, and endure for as
long as we could to find out who was mentally toughest. When it was just myself
and 1 other guy left, our commander told us there were 5 of us left (our eyes
were still shut) and by the time he said that there were 2 left, I was the only
one still in position. Unknowingly, I had stayed in the position for about 7
minutes after everyone else had given up and stood around watching me. My body
was shaking uncontrollably, my fists were on fire, but I refused to lose: I
kept thinking, 10 more seconds, you got this. When I finally opened my eyes and
realized what had happened, our commander gave me a handshake and a nod, and
told us to close our eyes and put our hands on our head. After enduring our
after-workout-ritual absorbing tough punches to the gut, he told us we were
done and we could get on the bus to Jerusalem, and enjoy Shabbat.
I was ecstatic.
My feet are busted, my shoulders are exhausted, my back aches, I’ve
never walked more in my life, and my arms are all cut up from the thorns,
rocks, and dirt...but I feel stronger, mentally tougher, and like I have
accumulated, over the past 5 weeks, an assortment of experiences that will help
me immeasurably as I move on to the beginning of my service in the Israel
Defense Forces.
One More Week!