Showing posts with label Ziesel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ziesel. Show all posts

Thursday, April 12, 2018

  • Thursday, April 12, 2018
  • Elder of Ziyon
After another too-long absence on these pages, Ziesel R. - the young woman originally from the US who joined the IDF as a lone soldier earlier this year - has resumed telling us her story.
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I would like to begin by apologizing for not posting a blog in six months. I’m sure you all understand that was due to the rigorous training that I went through.

Let’s take a look at my combat training that began 6 months ago. It was an extremely intense time with many days spent in the shetach (field). Almost every soldier is given something that they specialize in during training. I was given the Negev. The Negev is a machine gun weighing in at about 17 pounds. We did a week course on how to use it properly. It was a difficult week but I completed it nonetheless. One night they woke us up at 3 a.m. with a hakpatza (emergency drill) and had us all crawl about 250 meters with the Negev on difficult terrain. This was probably the most challenging thing that I’ve had to do in my service but I was very proud of myself for completing that difficult task.

After a couple more months of intense training we finished and received our kumta (beret). My father flew in for the ceremony which was sadly canceled while he was on the plane. (My father wrote an amazing article about his time with me in Israel that I suggest everyone read (posted below*). Having him in Israel was exciting and I finally got a taste of what it’s like to not be a lone soldier. A lot was going on at the same time he was in Israel. Unfortunately the Negev caused a lot of strain on my back. After combat training I jumped at the opportunity to volunteer to switch my specialty and take the combat medics course which began a couple days prior to my dad’s arrival. I was delighted to have been accepted to the course but faced a lot of difficulties. My commanders in the course were unaccommodating and made the course difficult for me. Fortunately I had four friends that did the course before me and spent a lot of time both on the phone and in person helping me. I also had a mashakit aliyah (someone whose job in the army is to help immigrants with understanding material). This ended up not being enough with commanders that were not interested in helping me. Ultimately I ended up switching to another medics course with different commanders. The way the medics course works is that almost every week a new course begins making switching to another course easy for someone like me. Switching courses ended up being the best decision. I loved my commanders and the head commander. I also really enjoyed the people I was with. It really reminded me how even when things look down it almost always ends up being for the better.

Toward the end of the three month medics course my mother and younger sister came for a visit. Fortunately my commanders were amazing and gave me ample time to spend with my family. Also while they were here I got my Israeli driving license which was very exciting. Again I got the taste of what it’s like to not be a lone soldier. Although they left, the memories we made together were incredible and now was time to focus on finishing my course.

I finished the course with great grades and went back to the life of a combat soldier. During this time, I also moved to Kibbutz Beerot Yitzchak.  I haven’t been there long but am very happy there. My unit is based next to the Jordanian border. I rejoined them but returned with a better attitude. I was only there for a few weeks before finally receiving permission to take leave. I booked plane tickets about 14 hours before getting on a plane to visit my family and friends in America. I’ve been in America for about a week and half now and will be here for a month. It is great being back and seeing everyone but at the same time I miss Israel. America will always be where I grew up but Israel is home.

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Here is the post written by Ziesel's father in December:

Is it possible to celebrate Chanukah and not think of our modern day Maccabees who protect and defend Israel and the Jewish people the world over? Probably few with children serving in the IDF especially Lone Soldier parents who may not see their Maccabee children but for brief visits with sometimes more than a year in between. Particularly difficult are the various graduation ceremonies (tekes) recognizing milestones in the military that families are invited to. To be sure other relatives, friends, host families and their Lone Soldier pals are there for them. As we used to say ‘lone but not lonely’.  But it isn’t the same.

A huge amount of thanks and gratitude to Nefesh B’Nefesh and EL AL the airlines of Israel for organizing and subsidizing a parent trip to Israel to attend a tekes for their Lone Soldier child. Nefesh B’Nefesh and EL AL recognize the importance of a parent attending a highlight tekes for the morale of the whole family and can sustain a soldier for a long way between parent visits.

The army, not so much.Neither I nor my Lone Soldier, Ziesel, attended a tekes during my trip (through no fault of Nefesh B’Nefesh and EL AL who worked overtime to make it happen).

To ‘make it happen’ was no mean feat. Anyone who knows the IDF only from ‘Operation Thunderbolt-the raid on Entebbe’, may be surprised to learn that the army doesn’t always have its- I will avoid the military term and say- ducks in a row. We reckoned ‘around Thanksgiving’. An official invitation was issued on 8 November for the tekes 23 November allowing a week for organizing work, family and scheduling flights (thanks again NBN and EL AL). No sooner had I landed that I discovered the tekes was canceled. Before I could be disappointed about that I learned my solider volunteered for and was accepted to the combat medic course. She was now on a completely different base and under new command (a lot can happen midflight). As proud as I was of her initiative, as an IDF Lone Solider veteran I was a little disconcerted because I knew that the permission she received for leave to spend time with me from her previous command was nullified. It was now up to the new command. A new lobbying effort began. I knew how it would seem, “Hi, I’m your new soldier. You don’t know me very well but can I have the first week of the course off?”

So, rather than meeting my daughter on a parade ground with bands and speeches accompanying receiving her new beret identifying her as a combat solder in the Arayot HaYarden Brigade with advanced training, we reunited at the Beer Sheva bus station.

Any disappointments that may have been,were melted away with hugs and kisses. Had she changed? She was the same beautiful, intelligent, articulate, poised, confident young woman we said farewell to a year ago- only more so. And way Israeli with mad Hebrew skills and an M-16. She introduced me to a couple of her friends from the course. “Is she a good solider?” I asked them in Hebrew. “Yes. Of course. The best.” I told her she was the ‘real deal’. “What does that mean?”, she asked. “It means if your plan was to come to Israel, make Aliyah and be a soldier in the IDF, you have done it, 100%” (100% is army slang for “100%”).

We had a wonderful Jerusalem Shabbat together with my older daughter and son-in-law at their Har Nof apartment. Motzai Shabbat she and I headed to Ibim, the immigrant absorption village she now calls home. Ziesel wanted to be closer to base if she didn’t get any additional leave. I was given the 5 shekel tour of Ibim- about 4 minutes. I was more focused on the placement of bomb shelters than the laundry and dining hall. Ibim is spitting distance to Sderot. As a parent you may tell your child “don’t play in the street” or “avoid walking alone at night (even if you have an M16)”. Add “be aware of the nearest bomb shelter and keep your ‘go bag’ squared away”. It’s not a kvetch but advice from experience. Both her mom and I were living in Israel during the Persian Gulf War.

I met some of the other Lone Solders. In my mind, exceptional young people. The culture of the IDF places enormous responsibility on extraordinarily young people. They are poised, professional and more than a little nonchalant. The social atmosphere was NCSYish- kosher fraternity/sorority but with fewer bad decisions. Ziesel made it clear from the start, “don’t touch the M16” but one of my young brothers let me check out the Tavor. Very cool would be an understatement. One of her friends dropped of her new kumta. New style for the mixed combat units: khaki background, dark brown tendrils over medium brown splotches. Looks cooler than it sounds. She acted less than enthusiastic but wasted little time changing out her generic O.D. one.

In some ways the best part of the visit was doing normal things that might belie we hadn’t seen each other in a year. Laundry, grocery shopping and picking up custom boot liners designed to relieve the tendonitis caused by carrying heavy loads quickly over long distance i.e. what combat soldiers do the most (by normal I meant normal Israeli things).

Good news! Leave permitted til Thursday (would just one more Shabbat cause the army to collapse?). So, back to Jerusalem and my turn to be the tour guide. First the Gush Katif Museum. I had some artifacts to deliver: some pictures of when I volunteered with some friends at Kibbutz Netzarim just before Operation Desert Storm. Within eyesight of her current residence beautiful and growing communities were exchanged for terror, destruction and rockets toward her and her neighbors.

Walking through Jerusalem I spied a sign for Michael Levin Lone Soldier Center. While my daughter begged off, (even though she is a trained killer it’s somehow gratifying to know she fears the possibility of being embarrassed by her dad) I was excited to see that which I heard so much about but did not exist in my time. I found a warm and homey space that was a cross between a dormitory common area and the living room of that house where everyone hangs out, with a very enthusiastic staff. I would have found it very inviting back in the day. On the way out we were offered a delicious cake to take for Shabbat. It was comforting to know that such a resource existed for my soldier.

We arranged to meet my older daughter at the Ammunition Hill Museum. As the year comes to a close most of us have forgotten that we celebrated the 50th anniversary of the victory of the Six-Day War in June. Ammunition Hill is significant to me because many years ago on a day trip while volunteering with Sar-el this is where I decided to begin my journey to becoming a soldier. I gave my daughters a complete historical reenactment of the battle and its context to the access of the old city and Temple Mount. Plus a tutorial on trench warfare (no extra charge and thanks, girls, for being polite while dad geeked out).

Some things can mean more than a tekes. Even before we got to Jerusalem the poor girl couldn’t stand still for one second without being complimented on her new kumta. Our day for visiting the Kotel was no exception. On the way she needed to stop for a few things (soldiers always need a few things). We happened upon a tiny cobbler’s booth along Yaffo Street. He was an older guy with an apron stained with dyes, polish and glue. There were belts, shoelaces and some other accessories but covered with dust. It made me wonder how long it had been since his last sale. With his help we found the cordovan colored polish that matched my daughter’s boots and the small applicator brushes that would pack into her already overstuffed industrial sized backpack. “How much?” I asked in Hebrew taking out my wallet (visiting parents always pay). “No” he said refusing payment “not for a soldier”. His gesture of appreciation was one of the highlights of my trip. I hugged him. Somehow his sacrifice comforted me knowing that, tekes or no, my daughter’s contribution was appreciated by the people who really counted. After stopping for a bite to eat we picked up a couple sufganyot and brought them to him as a token of appreciation. He of course refused but this was my turn to insist.

On to the Kotel. It is just time for the afternoon prayers and the wide Plaza is filled with worshipers and tourists. But first we have to go through security which my daughter bypasses because she’s in uniform and armed. There is a small formation of newer army recruits getting instructions from their young commanders before they are released for lunch. The tourists are enthralled as if they were the very soldiers that liberated Jerusalem in 1967. I do not take praying at the Kotel for granted. That even a single Jewish person could be here is an open miracle.

It’s time to leave but we’re making little progress. The tourists don’t allow my daughter any rest. Who wouldn’t want to take their picture with the pretty girl soldier with the fancy beret and an M-16? She’s happy to oblige. I make a (bad) joke that after the Army she can work in Times Square dressed as Wonder Woman taking pictures with tourists.

It would be satisfying and triumphant to leave on that pleasant scene but disingenuous. Leaving Israel is mostly bitter and never sweet. Efforts to extend leave until after Shabbat have failed. Tonight we go to Ibim so that tomorrow I can accompany Ziesel to her base. She tells me I don’t have to but of course I wouldn’t have it otherwise. In the morning she suggests we part at Beer Sheva station reminding me half joking that I won’t be permitted on base. I, (only) half joke that there should be no reason why not, reminding her I was a soldier while holding up a Ziploc sandwich bag with my old and faded IDF document (ID, discharge and fortunately never needed POW record). If she was impressed she didn’t let on.

The trip to the base was somber. In Beer Sheva we had the breakfast of an Israeli soldier on the move: bourekas and coffee. From Beer Sheva to the base there may have been tears (trained killer indeed). We parted as we met -- with hugs and kisses. One last in-person Shabbat bracha. I watched my little girl lug her heavy soldier’s pack until my view is obscured by trees, fencing and buildings. My trip back to Jerusalem was less sad. At least we were still in the same country for a little while longer and I reflected on our time together and how much I appreciated those who made the trip possible.







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Monday, September 18, 2017

  • Monday, September 18, 2017
  • Elder of Ziyon
After a too-long absence on these pages, Ziesel R. - the young woman originally from the US who joined the IDF as a lone soldier earlier this year - has resumed telling us her story.
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After the most basic of basic training we started our Hebrew course. Thanks to a Yeshiva education I was in the higher level Hebrew course with kids of expatriate Israelis. Interestingly, while they had a good speaking vocabulary, the yeshiva kids were better at reading, writing and grammar.

Now came the time that was the topic of most conversation, occupied most of our thoughts and the source of our greatest anxiety. What would be our jobs in the army?

We each received a letter from the army. Actually it is a form. In military fashion it states your name and serial number at the top followed by a list of job possibilities. I’ve been told (but stand to be corrected) that it works like this: first different units look at the personnel file of each soldier to decide to make an offer, then the soldier rates the list of offers by preference, after which each unit picks the solders they want most who rated them most desirable.

Most soldiers receive about 10 offers. Lone soldiers, especially from English speaking countries, are known to do exceptionally well and many receive 20 or more possibilities. Not to brag but my parents would never forgive me if I didn’t mention that I received over 40 job offers.

For girls there is one job that is never on the list. Combat. There are opportunities for women but you have to apply at army headquarters and be accepted. Which means more anxious waiting.  In addition to the months of hard training a half year is added to enlistment. Besides I have some very interesting opportunities to consider.

I am now transitioning into the life of a combat soldier. I am a soldier in Aryot Hayarden (Lions of the Jordan Valley) which means for the next four months I will be doing intense combat training. The past couple weeks have been extremely draining mentally and physically.

Coming from a course with the majority being Lone Soldiers, I didn't realize how difficult it would be being with "real Israelis". It really hit me towards the end of my first full week. I stood exhausted on a Thursday afternoon after being in the shetach (field), on maneuvers, for three days, holding back tears. A wave of homesickness hit me. All the girls I'm training with get to go home to their parents tomorrow while I will be returning to my friends. Don't get me wrong - army friends are extremely important but it's not the same as returning to your mom's home-cooked Shabbat meal.

Although that moment was particularly hard for me, for the most part I've had an easy transition. Discipline in my Hebrew course was extremely difficult. My current combat training is relatively easy in comparison. However that is just in terms of discipline. Combat training is an extremely mentally and physically draining experience. I just finished my preparation period. There are two weeks for girls to get used to the transition before the boys come. So I know from here on out it will just get harder.

Something else that has been difficult for me in the transition of now being with Israelis is my confidence when speaking Hebrew. Although my last course helped my confidence tremendously it still takes courage speaking with native speakers. Sometimes I just feel like people will laugh at me if I mess up even though I know that probably won't actually happen. Sometimes the Israelis lack patience with me and would rather just tell me a word in English when their English is way worse than my Hebrew.

On Wednesday we got divided up into our official groups for the next four months. At first I was terrified I was all alone, the only English speaker, and didn't know anybody. However I realize now that this is going to be an advantage for me because my Hebrew will improve significantly. Beginnings are always difficult but I know I can handle it and I know that I'm willing to push for it because this is what I came to do. The girls that I'm with now are extremely sweet and caring. They all love asking me questions like "why are you here?" and "are you alone?" and "if you ever need anything please come to me."  I've already been invited to several Shabbat meals. Like I said every transition is difficult but I really think that I was put in a good place and I'm excited to move forward.

With that transition yesterday I had a short interview just like everybody else with my ממ (company commander).

He asked me about things that are difficult for me, being a lone soldier. I expressed to him that sometimes it's difficult and I just feel alone because I don't get to return to my family at the end of the week. He made it extremely clear to me that now I've entered into a new family and I will never be alone. It was a very comforting conversation and he really made me feel like I am part of something great and that this really is my new family.




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Thursday, May 11, 2017

  • Thursday, May 11, 2017
  • Elder of Ziyon
A few months ago I asked a friend of mine whose daughter had just made Aliyah right out of high school if she would be interested in writing about her experiences. This is part 2. Part 1 is here.

5 May 2017

It started Wednesday morning April 19th. I get to Beer Sheva with all my stuff ready to begin my new journey. Only now do have a moment to write this down.

I get assigned a bus and we leave for the bakum in Tel Aviv. The bakum is where you officially become a soldier. You get there and are told to take off all your jewelry and put your bags and everything you have away. The only thing I had on me was my ID and bank information. You go through a process of getting your fingers printed, picture taken, finger pricked, cheek swabbed, arm stabbed with shots and so on. Eventually you are given your choger (army ID) and diskeet (dog tags). When all this is done you get the uniform that you will need to wear for the next 2+ years. The first time you put on those crisp green shirts and shiny new boots you feel proud. Proud that you are here and have done everything you can to get to this moment.

That feeling of finally being a soldier is great and overwhelming but after a few days you start to miss being a civilian. It's hard to always be on someone else's schedule. It's frustrating not be able to do whatever you want, whenever you want. However you need to accept your new reality of being property of the army. That might sound like a horrible way of putting it but that is what you are. You can no longer think or do whatever you want. Everything is on your mefakedet's (commanders) command.

Something that was really hard for me was getting a gun. I've always seen soldiers in the streets and thought they were "so cool". However I no longer see it that way. Now when I see them I feel bad for them. I have an 
long M16 which is about 3 kg. It hangs on me awkwardly and bangs into my knees whenever we have to run. The first week I was covered in bruises. Slowly you learn how to hold it without it banging into you. But the weight and awkwardness of the gun wasn't my problem. I was having trouble focusing and understanding the lessons. 

See, everything for me is a double lesson. For someone who grew up in Israel all they need to know is the basic information. But for me it's a double challenge. I need to first learn and understand all the vocabulary and after that I can learn the actual lesson itself. After practicing several times I now feel more confident. However I needed to first teach myself that asking for help is okay and isn't a bad thing. 

Next week we are heading to the shetach (field) to shoot our guns. I know I am ready.

This past week was Yom Hazikaron and Yom Haatzmaut. My Yom Hazikaron started on Sunday night when I attended atekes (ceremony) in Sderot about 10 minutes from where I live. Standing there in my uniform I began to think about the bigger picture. This was reinforced even stronger the next day when I went to Har Herzl cemetery for the first time in my uniform. Standing next to the section for lone soldiers I wondered what their stories are. Each and every one of those soldiers in Har Herzl has one. It's scary to think one day I may know someone buried there. But that is why each and every lone soldier I know is in Israel. They are all willing to risk their lives for our home. 

Yom Haatzmaut was really lively and fun. I attended the BBQ at the Michael Levin Center for Lone Solders in Jerusalem with many of my friends. All the volunteers are nice and friendly. They each want to do whatever they can to help us. It was extremely surreal to be in Israel for Independence Day. I knew that I finally made it home.

Settling into army life is not easy. After my first full week I didn't want to have to come back. I felt unmotivated and was focusing on all the negatives. A friend helped me realize that I would never be able to do it until I changed my mindset. So this week I did. I realized that the army is just a game and I just need to win the game. Every time we are told to run, I run as fast as I can to be first. Whenever we are told to say or do anything I give it 100%. Doing this has really helped me handle the army better. I'm just a piece on the game board trying to get to the finish before all the other players. Now, this doesn't always end up working out. Many times I think I'm moving ahead when all of a sudden I get thrown back a few spots. 

For example the other day we needed to take our straps off our gun to put it away for the weekend. One of my friends had arrived late holding two guns because she was asked to take another girl's gun back. Seeing her struggle I asked permission to help her. I asked in the proper way with the proper Hebrew grammar. 

I was then told to do push-ups. 

Even when you try your hardest to be a team player it sometimes just doesn't work out. At the end of the day this is the army game, the rules are made up as they go along. All I can do is try my hardest to win.




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Wednesday, March 08, 2017

  • Wednesday, March 08, 2017
  • Elder of Ziyon
A couple of months ago I asked a friend of mine whose daughter had just made Aliyah right out of high school if she would be interested in writing about her experiences. - EoZ

I begin writing this while chilling in my Youth Village apartment where I currently live with my international contingent of flatmates. It is 6:23am and I've been up for a while since I was unable to sleep last night. After two months since my Aliya flight, all of this is only now starting to be common and ordinary. Getting to this point was a long and convoluted journey.

My whole life I knew that after finishing high school, I would go directly into the IDF. I always felt that I had an equal obligation to everyone my age living in Israel and coming up in the United States was no excuse. I was born to Jewish parents therefore I must serve in my homeland. My father served in the Nachal brigade as a lone soldier and I looked up to him my whole life and respected him for his service.

At the beginning of 12th grade I began looking into different options for me to make Aliyah and draft into the army in "the best way possible". I discovered a program through Nefesh B'Nefesh called Garin Tzabar. It is a program for Olim who are drafted into the army. There are about 80 18-24 year old men and women, religious and secular, from any of a dozen countries, living here. We have ulpan in the morning and army preparation activities in the afternoon. We are given a tremendous amount of support and our group has become a family.

Now moving back I mentioned this journey wasn't simple and that is because when I originally applied for Garin Tzabar, in October of 2015, I had never been to Israel, my Hebrew level was quite poor, and I was 16 at the time of application. After interviewing with the East Coast coordinator it was clear all of these were issues. I was rejected.

I was quite disappointed. However I still knew this program would be the best plan for me and I set about to do what is necessary to meet its requirements.

In January of 2016 I took my first trip to Israel with my mother. It was an incredible trip and afterwards I was 100% certain that Israel is the only place for me to live. The whole year I stayed in touch with the coordinator pushing him politely and reminding him of my existence. In September of 2016 I reapplied to Garin Tzabar and booked my second trip to Israel. This time I participated in Sar-El, a volunteer program on an army base. While in Sar-El I was given the IDF uniform to wear which got me excited for my future.

Upon returning home I had my first Garin Tzabar weekend seminar in the US. I met an amazing group of people and knew I had to be a part of it. I impatiently waited but eventually I got the letter informing me I was invited to the second seminar. At the second seminar I was interviewed by a highly ranked army officer which was quite intimidating. A few days after the second seminar I finally received the letter informing me I was accepted into the program. This news came December 7th 2016, exactly three weeks before my Aliyah flight.

That Aliyah flight is a whole other story because like all the bureaucracy in Israel it was a long and grueling process. I won't bore you with the details but in short all the issues centered around my age. I wanted to make Aliyah as soon as possible upon graduating from high school but as a November baby I had to wait until I turned 18.

Fortunately everything worked out for the best. I have an amazing support system and have met incredible people. I will be drafting into a more intensive army ulpan in April. After this I plan on drafting into palchatz (search and rescue), a unit that I believe suits me well and will enhance my service.

I want to write about my experiences because I hope my story inspires you. Maybe not to join the IDF,  but perhaps to take on one thing for the state of Israel and for the Jewish people.





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