Israel Air Force Induction 2011

I couldn't attend- grad school interfered- but I sent my mother, a recent immigrant to the country to the IAF- Israel Air Force induction ceremony in Be'ersheva. Nefesh B'Nefesh tracked down some extra tickets for this amazing experience, and armed with a Teudat Zehut and a love of Israel- my mother was allowed to attend.

It is only open to those who are relatives of the pilots, former pilots, and any of those with the special tickets granted to the event.

Speaking to my mother after the event, she remarked that it was a truly beautiful experience. All the pilots, neat, handsome, polite and respectful, were truly a sight to behold. HaTikva was sung with grace, and a music concert lightened up the air.

The pilots themselves showed off the individual planes, speaking in English and in Hebrew, and answering questions to all who wanted. There was an air show, with precision moves, gracefully sweeping through the sky, for two hours of awe and amazement. Many of the pilots were wearing kippahs, my mother said, many were religious as well. All were absolutely proud and joyful that they reached this day and earned their wings.

A proud parent of a pilot remarked to my mother that he himself was in the 1967 war, and it was only due to the pilots in the air that he on the ground lived to see this day. He stood there with his son the pilot, his other son the yeshiva student, and all with proud grins on their faces.

May G-d safeguard these soldiers- may they never have to use their excellent skills in war, and if they do, let them all come safely home.

OII #18- Israeli Soldiers

My eyes started to tear as I told my mother over the phone what happened to me today, and her eyes started to water too. No, it wasn't something sad, but something touching. And something so routine that probably many take it for granted.

I got on the bus today with my daughter, heading out to pick up something in a neighborhood far away. I grabbed her tight, got the driver to punch my ticket, folded my stroller, and sat down. There was an empty seat next to me, and a woman across the aisle was also sitting, an empty seat next to her.

After about two stops, a young Israeli soldier boarded the bus, carrying his gun, his ammunition pack, and a giant duffel bag, probably containing all that he was taking back to his base after a brief trip home to see his family and do laundry.

He unloaded all his gear while still wearing his gun, and placed it on the floor next to my folded stroller. Meanwhile, I recognized that he probably wouldn't want to sit next to me, so I moved over to sit next to the woman with the empty seat next to her.

He looked up, saw what I did, and smiled. He then proceeded to sit down.
I have no idea what prompted me, but I looked at him and wished him quietly, "Hatzlacha Rabba". He smiled again, and nodded his thanks.

He then proceeded to spend the rest of the bus ride, until I disembarked, playing peekaboo with my daughter from across the aisle, making sure my stroller and his gear didn't roll their way across the bus, and generally acting so chesedik and kind to every single person on the bus who passed by. Like the elderly women who he helped with the shopping cart. Oh, and the other woman who he helped off the bus with her stroller.

I'm telling you, he was such a stereotypical example of an Israeli soldier, down to the kindness and all. Our boys, our young Jewish boys, head out to the army at such a young age, but they have such hearts of gold.

When I told this story over to my mother on my next bus ride, she started to cry. She reminded me of an even older story that happened with me as a young one and a soldier as well.

When I was a little child, about 5 or so, my parents went on a trip to Israel. They got on a bus, and a young soldier proceeded to play games with me at that age, just like this soldier did for my daughter. My parents were so touched, and showered so many blessings on his head as a result. I have a picture, as a young child, of me with that soldier, both of us smiling huge grins.

The soldiers of Israel- our brothers, sons, and fathers. May they all continue to be safe, well, and protected.

OII #7- Brothers and Babies

I'm always amazed here in Israel by how phenomenal the soldiers in the army are. They go through three years there, starting when they are still in their teenage years, and even after that, they still participate in the reserves until they no longer can by law.

They are tough individuals, strong, brave- people you would want to have defending you and your country and people. Walking around all day with a gun on your shoulder might scare the passerby, or make them realize how special you are- to give up some of the time in your life to do something so constructive and valuable.

They put on this gruff exterior when they are on duty- no nonsense, no funny business or even cracking a smile to those watching. But peer out of the corner of your eye, and you see them laughing with their comrades in arms, playing jokes on the men they are supposed to command, and generally acting like normal people. Each one of these soldiers is a brother to some, a son to some, and they act it, despite the fact that they have learnt Krav Maga- a deadly form of martial arts.

I was in a mall with a friend and her baby daughter. As we passed through security, she needed to remove her daughter from the stroller, because the little one was scared by the metal detector. All of a sudden, the stern-faced security guard and his soldier friend turned into different people. "Aize Metuka!" (such a cutie!) they cried, and started to make funny faces to cheer up the slightly shocked baby. "Chamuda," they said, as they grilled my friend as to how old the baby was. The little one made their day by giving a grin, and these soldiers thoroughly enjoyed themselves. I would have thought they would have grabbed the little one and bounced her on their laps soundly, if they hadn't been on duty. That's Israeli security. Give them a little one- and they turn into the brothers of the sisters they left at home.

Recently, I was in the Old City with NBD, and I wanted to get from the Kotel to the Rova. Being as I had a stroller, I had to take the long way around. When I got half way up, I saw a security guard standing by an entrance- and I asked him if that way led up, and were there stairs. He looked at me, and at NBD- and said, "What's the problem?! I'll carry her up." And so he proceeded to do, chattering all the while about how cute she was, and how he has a 1 1/2 year old at home waiting for him.

So, beneath that exterior lies something waiting. No Israeli can resist a baby.