Reserve Duty Snippets

31-Mar-08

Army reserve duty is a reality most don't escape in Israel. Last year I was assigned to a coastal Naval unit monitoring terrorist intrusions near the Lebanese border.

The first day was typical. Hurry up and wait! Wait and hurry up! Please show me the enemy already! This is worse than battle fatigue!

When we finally were emptied out of the lorry we were shown to our quarters. Could have been worse I guess. We were stationed on the top floor of an eight story '"Jewish Agency" facility for newly arrived immigrants. I wonder if they were aware that on their roof was a round the clock operation responsible for the safety of a swath of Israel's coast, including them.

My knowledge of Yiddish allowed me to peek into the worlds of some of my newly arrived Russian and Romanian neighbors

Desperate for an escape from my cramped and messy quarters, I befriended a Romanian grandmother. She prepared eggs and toast for me and I brought her cans of army food. We enjoyed this arrangement and each other's company, though she insisted it remain our secret. Shadows of her Ceausescu dominated background, gossipy neighbors....? Her room had that very old world look and smell. Her apron,her shoes the old family photos on the walls had me imagining myself in another time in Bucharest. An American boy speaking Yiddish and sipping tea with a strange Romanian bubby. Funny , I really did not feel strange at all - just comfortable and secure in the knowledge that I knew who I was protecting and why. Strange combinations are par for the course in the Israeli army.

In our small unit we had a representative mix. An American from Brooklyn. One young energetic and friendly Russian form Herzlia, formerly Leningrad. His dream was to open a pub in Tel Aviv make alot of money and buy a yacht Another man, probably the oldest amongst us (at least he looked so) could hardly mumble a few words in Hebrew. He kept to himself and actually chose not to go home on leave which should be the high point of any reservist's stint. It struck me that there was less waiting for him at home than in our little quarters and canned food. He was from one of the Caucasus Mountain territories of Russia. That all we knew. And that's about it. Our red headed pub dreamer said he didn't even speak Russian well at all.

Then there was that inevitable boor that you never want to meet again. He smoked non stop in our little room, watched his portable tv at all hours and made sure turn on all the lights as he entered the darkened room at three am upon returning from guard duty. Then there was the typical successful Israeli business executive. A mature man of the world who would never spend three hours, let alone three weeks with our crew in any other place on this earth!

This particular stint had its special rewards. On my roof top post I was one with the most incredible sunsets over the Mediterranean and fresh dawns that rose over the mountains of the Galilee.. Praying all alone, welcoming another day of Creation....Truly a memory

With rain storms battering my my little cubicle. on the roof, my floor heater was my best friend. Together we survived the night to greet the Sun. All quiet on the Western Front.

Each morning from my post I waved to a group of newly arrived Ethiopian children walking with their Jewish Agency counselors on the beach below. I had the advantage of binoculars which made me feel I knew them better than they did me. In a few years these immigrant children groping their way in a new world will be protecting other immigrant children and grandmas.

Well, my three weeks came to an end. We all returned to our families. The goodbyes were said and phone numbers exchanged never to be used. Another day of hurry up and wait as we returned our equipment to the same bored faces that greeted us three weeks earlier as we turned into civilians once again

So civilians once again, until that well recognized brown envelope makes its way into my mail box once again

Shalom Pollack Tours of Israel
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	Reserve Duty Snippets 31-Mar-08 Army reserve duty is a reality most don't escape in Israel. Last year I was assigned to a coastal Naval unit monitoring terrorist intrusions near the Lebanese border. The first day was typical. Hurry up and wait! Wait and hurry up! Please show me the enemy already! This is worse than battle fatigue! When we finally were emptied out of the lorry we were shown to our quarters. Could have been worse I guess. We were stationed on the top floor of an eight story '"Jewish Agency" facility for newly arrived immigrants. I wonder if they were aware that on their roof was a round the clock operation responsible for the safety of a swath of Israel's coast, including them. My knowledge of Yiddish allowed me to peek into the worlds of some of my newly arrived Russian and Romanian neighbors Desperate for an escape from my cramped and messy quarters, I befriended a Romanian grandmother. She prepared eggs and toast for me and I brought her cans of army food. We enjoyed this arrangement and each other's company, though she insisted it remain our secret. Shadows of her Ceausescu dominated background, gossipy neighbors....? Her room had that very old world look and smell. Her apron,her shoes the old family photos on the walls had me imagining myself in another time in Bucharest. An American boy speaking Yiddish and sipping tea with a strange Romanian bubby. Funny , I really did not feel strange at all - just comfortable and secure in the knowledge that I knew who I was protecting and why. Strange combinations are par for the course in the Israeli army. In our small unit we had a representative mix. An American from Brooklyn. One young energetic and friendly Russian form Herzlia, formerly Leningrad. His dream was to open a pub in Tel Aviv make alot of money and buy a yacht Another man, probably the oldest amongst us (at least he looked so) could hardly mumble a few words in Hebrew. He kept to himself and actually chose not to go home on leave which should be the high point of any reservist's stint. It struck me that there was less waiting for him at home than in our little quarters and canned food. He was from one of the Caucasus Mountain territories of Russia. That all we knew. And that's about it. Our red headed pub dreamer said he didn't even speak Russian well at all. Then there was that inevitable boor that you never want to meet again. He smoked non stop in our little room, watched his portable tv at all hours and made sure turn on all the lights as he entered the darkened room at three am upon returning from guard duty. Then there was the typical successful Israeli business executive. A mature man of the world who would never spend three hours, let alone three weeks with our crew in any other place on this earth! This particular stint had its special rewards. On my roof top post I was one with the most incredible sunsets over the Mediterranean and fresh dawns that rose over the mountains of the Galilee.. Praying all alone, welcoming another day of Creation....Truly a memory With rain storms battering my my little cubicle. on the roof, my floor heater was my best friend. Together we survived the night to greet the Sun. All quiet on the Western Front. Each morning from my post I waved to a group of newly arrived Ethiopian children walking with their Jewish Agency counselors on the beach below. I had the advantage of binoculars which made me feel I knew them better than they did me. In a few years these immigrant children groping their way in a new world will be protecting other immigrant children and grandmas. Well, my three weeks came to an end. We all returned to our families. The goodbyes were said and phone numbers exchanged never to be used. Another day of hurry up and wait as we returned our equipment to the same bored faces that greeted us three weeks earlier as we turned into civilians once again So civilians once again, until that well recognized brown envelope makes its way into my mail box once again Other articles:
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Reserve Duty Snippets