The End...

A week ago I was honorably discharged from the IDF, but like most things in the army it wasn't with out its hiccups. In my typical dumb-luck fashion, the day before my release from the army I lost my army I.D. card. In addition to granting me access to walk around with an automatic weapon, the I.D. card also allowed me to travel for free on public transportation. I literally woke up on the day of my discharge, gathered my uniform to return and only at this point realized my I.D. was gone. I think it must have fallen out of my pocket the day before while traveling on the bus.

I was bummed because this meant that I was going to have to pay for my bus rides (I had planned to use it the two weeks after my release as well, as long as the bus driver didn't check the date on it which they rarely do), but I had no idea how big of a headache this was going to be. I arrived at the base and I wasn't allowed in. I didn't have my ID, dog tags, and I had come in regular street clothes. I had to wait outside for about 30 minutes calling various people trying to gain access to the base just so I could give back my uniform (this was even more of an ordeal because my commander had been discharged the day before). Eventually, I was let in only to discover that I would have to have a trial because it is impossible to be released without your I.D. card.

I spent half the day waiting for an officer to arrive in order to have my trial. After sitting around for all that time, I was informed I would have to travel to where my unit was currently stationed in order to be tried there. In the end, my trial took place at 10:30 pm and I was let off with a warning. Unfortunately, it was too late for me to go home so I had to spend one last night on the base. The next morning I woke up at 6 to get the first bus, and traveled to the intake base near Tel Aviv (where all of the new soldiers arrive to get their gear), and was released 20 minutes later. I think it was probably the most efficient part of my entire army experience. I wanted to take a picture of them cutting my I.D. in half, but since I didn't have my I.D. you'll have to use your imaginations.

Lately, I've had a lot of people ask me the same question, "Would you do it again?". I had been asked plenty of times before, but I usually answered by saying that I couldn't really know until I was done. I am not going to sugar coat anything. The experience was extremely trying at times. I heard someone say once that everyone is going to have at least one day when they want to quit, and I tend to agree with that. What most people don't know about the Israeli army is that probably less than 5% of your time is spent on missions, or doing what you are trained to do. Probably 50% of the time is spent training (at least in the special forces units), 35% is spent standing guard in a watch tower or an armored vehicle, and 10% is spent working in the kitchen or cleaning. For me, however, I think I accomplished what I set out to accomplish. There was more than one time that I told myself that what I was doing at that moment was the hardest thing I had ever done, and I got through it. I think I am leaving the army with a better sense of my limitations, my strengths, my weaknesses, and the knowledge that I can accomplish anything if I don't give up.

So now that I am done, the answer to would I do it again is.........definitely!

Anti-Guerilla Warfare

It has been a little while since my last post, but I've been kind of busy traveling back and forth from the U.S. and preparing for my release from the army.

The last week of our 4 month training session was spent learning various anti-guerilla warfare tactics, because this is the type of war that is fought in Lebanon.

The first two days were spent learning how to sneak around in the forest. Each night we practiced what we learned during the day. The first night was one of the tougher nights that week. We didn't actually walk very far, I think it may have been about 3 kilometers, but it took us close to two hours because of how thick the all of the trees and vines were (you can see the sort of vegetation we were walking in above in the picture). We climbed up a mountain with giant bags that would get stuck every time you tried to duck under a branch. I couldn't help but laugh when the guy in front of me would start yelling in frustration.

This particular type of warfare is extremely difficult. Once you encounter the enemy it is almost impossible to maintain any type of eye contact with your team. At any given moment you are separated by a tree or a bush that you can't see through. When the numbers increase it becomes even more difficult, if two teams attempt any sort of maneuver in the woods the chances of friendly fire are probably just as likely as killing the enemy.

On the third day we learned different tactics for fighting in bunkers. Apparently, in Lebanon, Hezbollah has built several underground bunkers that they use when fighting. They often pop up, fire, and go back down (the picture above is an entrance to one such bunker).

The last night the entire battalion participated in a mock anti-guerilla warfare exercise. My team led the our unit, because during wartime we are tasked with reconnaissance. My team was actually low on men (different people had been sent to different courses, and some were participating in an army wide shooting competition), so I was in charge of taking point as both the sharpshooter and technician (all that meant is that I walk in front and carry a big thermal night vision device). Our first mission of the night was to set up a reconnaissance post on top of a mountain. The only problem was that this mountain had more trees, thorns, and vines than any other mountain I had been on since our individual navigation week. It only took me about 10 minutes before my entire arm was burning from some plant I had touched (I later learned that it was a nettle, and even then didn't know what it was. I had to look it up on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nettle). Being the point man meant that I basically had to clear a path through the thorn bushes for everyone else. This was pretty brutal and meant a lot of turning back around when I came to bushes that were impassible. It was a pretty brutal night, when I finally got a chance to sit down at the recon post I was pulling thorns out of myself for about an hour. I literally had a thorn in my knee that I found two weeks later.

Through out the night we had some staged enemies. Giant phosfluorscent lights would be shot in to the air and we would have to "call in" their coordinates to the "air force." Which is what we would do in an actual war. That night and the next morning we practiced an encounter in the woods with guerilla forces. The one thing I learned from that experience is that if it ever really happens it is going to get ugly. I think we started the drill with close to 50 soldiers and ended it with something close to 15. There is just no way everyone is gonna make it.

Mobilizing the Airborne Division - pt. 3

The third day we walked most of the day and most of the night. The only upside is that when an entire division is moving, it takes so long that the walking is pretty slow and there are often breaks. After all of our walking, up and down mountains, and then up and down and up again, we stormed a building and called it a night.

The next morning we prepared for the final "mission." We were going 10 km to the top of the highest mountain in the area (something like 1,000 meters above sea level). From there we were supposed to supply information to the rest of the division about where the enemy forces are so that our troops could advance.

As we sat around waiting to begin the hike we were informed that a bus would be coming to take us to our post at the top of the mountain. At first I didn't believe it because this is somewhat unheard of. Then we were told that the mountain is covered with land mines and that there is only one safe way up and down.

Around 11 PM we reached out post at the top of the mountain. We had been prepared to spend the next few hours freezing on the top of the mountain. Personally, I had already come to grips with the idea that I would not be able fall asleep. However, when we reached the top we found an old military outpost. The trenches of which provided welcome relief from the freezing winds. We were tasked with searching for enemy troops so we could warn our forces, so we split up into the pairs we would be working in and started a lookout rotation. Those of us who weren't first began looking for a place to sleep. My partner and I found what I can only describe as a 3 by 3 ft. hole that was about 10 feet deep and lined with concrete (I don't know what it had been used for but I assume storing ammunition and possibly food). When we got there the only thing in there was a big bird nest.

When we it was our turn to look out it was too foggy to see anything, even with our thermal night gear. We spent most of our time shivering and then woke up the next pair. In the morning we packed up our gear and rode back down the mountain. We waited for the rest of the Division to finish their respective "missions" and then there was a ceremony.

(More pictures to come)

Mobilizing the Airborne Division - pt. 2

The first night we got to our lookout post as a storm was starting. As everyone was pulling out their rain gear I heard one of my friends start mumbling to himself. He started pulling out things from his bag as he was saying, "No...no...I don't believe it!" It turns out my friend had forgotten to bring his rain gear and most of his cold weather gear. Fortunately for him he had brought a jacket with him.

Being in the North during the winter made it cold enough, but being on a mountain top in the rain really compounded the cold. I was wearing a thermal underarmour shirt and pants, my uniform, a fleece, a rain jacket and pants, a thermal ski mask, and a neck warmer (I had heard stories of how cold the previous week had been and decided I'd rather be safe than sorry). I remember saying to myself, "Wow, its pretty warm. I think I should be good for the night.".... I was wrong.

Right when I laid down to go to sleep the rain started, then it continued and continued for the next 7 hours. This was no drizzle, marble sized rain drops fell from 11 PM until 6 AM. I don't know why but whenever it rains like that I think of the scene from Forrest Gump when Tom Hanks is wading through the water talking about how it just kept raining. I quickly learned that our rain gear was not made for these conditions. I would estimate that it took about 2 or 3 hours before the rain managed to make its way to my clothes. I found myself shivering from the cold and simultaneously cursing myself for thinking I was gonna be warm and wondering whether my friend was catching hypothermia. I distinctly remember having a dream, either having dozed off or out of pure delirium, of a nearby house with nothing inside except for a hot shower. Everyone waited in line to get in, the room filled with steam, and just as I was about to enter I was brought back to the real world by my own shivering. I quickly realized there was not going to be a shower anywhere in my near future.

The worst part was waking up the next day to a completely grey cloud covered sky. During a normal week in the field I lived from sun-up to sun-down. What I mean by that is that the nights nights were a nice escape from the grueling sun and by the morning the heat was a welcome refrain from the cold nights (with the added benefit of drying rain or sweat soaked clothing, since most of the walking takes place at night). When I woke up that morning I new that my soaking wet clothes would not be dry any time soon, and my only hope was that I would warm up when we started walking again.

I packed up all of my cold weather gear and started walking to our next reconnaissance post (You may be asking yourself why I took off all my warm clothing, but I can assure you that no matter how cold it is, once you start walking you will get warm - quickly). After we arrived we set up our gear and prepared ourselves for another night of rain. I was pretty tired of being cold and wet, but on the bright side at least the rain wasn't going to bother me that much.

We had a rotation in which we would man the thermal night vision for 30 minutes and then try and sleep for an hour, lookout for 30 minutes, struggle to doze off for an hour, so on and so on all night. As expected it rained again, but not until early in the morning, and not nearly as hard as the night before. Then in a miraculous turn of events...the sun came out.

Mobilizing the Airborne Division - pt. 1

This past week I took part in the largest military exercise in the last 3 or 4 years. As a conclusion to the three month long training period there was an exercise in which the entire Paratroopers division, in collaboration with several other units, was tested in its wartime readiness.

The exercise was massive and I only saw the little bit in which I participated. There are four Airborne battalions (the 101st, the 202nd, 890th, and the Special Forces battalion) that participated in coordination throughout the week, each with somewhere around 500 people.

As an example of just how immense this drill was, the first day 90 helicopters flew 1,500 soldiers to their respective drop zones to begin the exercise, while simultaneously the 202nd battalion was brought in from the sea with the help of Shayetet 13 (the Israeli Navy Seal equivalent). I'm fairly certain that the budget for fuel alone must have been in the millions. To give a small example of how much money was put into this exercise, the enemy we were fighting was a third-party company that had been hired to simulate the enemy. We had been told that there had been an emphasis on orders to try and kidnap soldiers. It was actually kind of humorous because before we set out for the week our commander told us that if someone tries to kidnap us that we should physically fight back, his words were "I don't care if you have to knock their teeth out!" It was at that point that I decided to myself that apparently the commanders had been told if they lose any soldiers that they should probably expect some heavy handed punishments.

As a favor to me, and my still healing ankle, my commander told me that I would not be participating in my usual role as the light machine gunner this week. Seeing as it would mean carrying about 20 pounds less than I am accustomed to, I was thankful for commander's concern. Unfortunately, I still ended up carrying the stretcher for the team in addition to all of my regular food and gear, I guess sometimes being the only American in a group of scrawny Israelis has its disadvantages. The truth is the stretcher wasn't too heavy, but it took up a lot of space in my bag (we carry 90 liter bags that look something like this except green and not camo: http://uk.shopping.com/xPO-Alpine-Lowe-Alpine-Saracen-90-40-Liter-Military-Backpack) and because we had been told that it was going to rain all week we already had a lot of extra gear to take with us.

My team was in charge of leading our unit because we are trained in reconnaissance, whereas the rest of the teams are trained in anti-tank missiles. To aid us in the beginning of the exercise my team was joined by two dogs and their handlers. One was an attack dog and the other was a bomb/mine smelling dog. I had seen these dogs work in urban settings, but I was interested to see how they were utilized in open field combat like we would be simulating during the week. It actually turned into quite a fiasco. My team of 11, the two dogs and their handlers, along with everyones bag was helicoptered 30 minutes in a black hawk. We were dropped off behind the "enemy" and were hiking to a mountain in order to take the higher ground and clear the way for the other battalions to come in. When we came upon a wide clearing we were told to crouch down and wait for the attack dog to go out and do a quick search. A few minutes later the dog came running up to our sergeant and was jumping all over him. Fortunately for him, the dog was wearing a muzzle for the entire exercise. The handler came over and straightened it out after a minute or two, but this should have been a sign that this wasn't going to work.

After crossing the clearing we met up with the rest of our battalion (their helicopters had landed in a different zone) and began to lead the way to our destination. A few miles later our commanders again decided to send the attack dog out. This time, however, the dog apparently heard rustling coming from someone farther back in the group and ran after him. This is where the problem came about. Apparently, the people who weren't on our team did not realize that the dog had a muzzle on. They saw the dog attacking someone and assumed he was getting mauled. Someone fired a few shots in the air and others tried kicking or hitting the dog off. I don't really know why they thought the bullets would do anything because the dogs are trained for combat, but impressively (at least I was impressed) the dog was unfazed by the blows he was receiving. He only let up when his handler blew his dog whistle. Things calmed down a bit and a medic checked the dog out. He was fine, except for a small cut he got from running to his handler and nicking himself on some barbed wire. Needless to say, the dog experiment was done for this exercise. The dogs walked with us for the next few days, but only the bomb sniffing dog was sent out.

Sidelined

After not being able to participate in my first actual week, I was forced to sit out of the next week as well while my ankle continued to heal. This time however I was actually a little pleased that I didn't have to participate.

The past two months all of the paratroopers have been in a three month training period. This particular week was what is known as a "battalion exercise." The name is pretty self explanatory. The entire Airborne Special Forces Battalion spends the entire week simulating war time conditions. This particular drill we have been preparing for a war with Lebanon or Syria, meaning that the drills take place in the North.

For those unfamiliar with the country's layout, Israel is not a complete desert which I know is what a few people have in mind, especially when thinking about a Middle Eastern country. The Northern portion of the country, the Golan Heights and the Galilee, is actually rather mountainous and actually quite woodland. Therefore, during the winter it tends to get both cold and wet.

My commander and I decided that because of the weight that everyone would need to carry during the week if it would probably be best if I stayed behind for the week. At all times there has to be at least three people at our base making sure that no other soldiers come in who do not have permission. So that is where I spent my week. Mostly relaxing and watching television (we have a TV room with the equivalent of Israeli HBO, one of the few perks of the Special Forces).

When the week was over and I talked to the rest of my team I was pretty glad I didn't try and tough it out. They told me that it was probably one of the hardest weeks that they have had since enlisting. Everyone carried a bag that weighed at least 100 pounds (even two guys who probably weigh about 120 or 130 themselves) and walked about 15 or 20 kilometers each day. However, what they said was the worst part was that it was so cold they couldn't really sleep. Not sure my ankle would have held up for the long hikes, but I'm definitely glad I didn't have to find out.

Sitting out

In the first week that I couldn't really participate in the army (because of my ankle), I'm missing some stuff I was looking forward to. This past Sunday our battalion had a jump with the American Green Berets. Although everyone who participated told me that they never want to jump again and that I didn't miss anything. Apparently, the jump was with a lot of gear. Everyone jumped with vests, guns, ammo, and a giant bag that probably weighed between 40 and 60 pounds.

The day after the jump I went to see the doctor about my ankle (it is already starting to feel a lot better so I'm not too worried) and I ran into one of my buddies. He was there because he hurt his ankle in the jump. He began to explain to me that the winds were pretty intense and that he was getting pulled back and forth as soon as he got out of the plane. He ended up directly on top of another chute. He said that by the time that they got separated he barely had time to release his gear, which is connected by a rope, before he hit the ground. On a normal jump there is about a minute before you hit the ground, on this jump there was about 30 seconds because of all of the gear. His was not the only story I heard, one of the guys on my team told me he landed next to an American who landed on his back and immediately began cursing. In the end it may have been good I didn't jump.

The rest of the week is going to be more urban warfare, with paintball and more intricate buildings than we worked on last week. I'm kind of bummed that I won't get to work with them, but at the same time I think that being able to take a little time off will really help my ankle.