The Daily Grind

In the army, boot camp revolves around sleep.

That six hour nap provides the convenient break between daily schedules, the building block of the organization. This period of time starts arbitrarily --anywhere between 9pm and 3am-- as orders can change any time, say, if a Higher Up decides to give a speech to the entire platoon (1 hour hike back to base, shine the shoes, change into our berets, file in to the auditorium, "I just wanted to tell you soldiers that you're doing a great job!", file out, change back into work uniforms, trek back out to the field...), or some classroom is unavailable. [Once, we had to break apart field camp and tents, then put it back up again, then break it back down again, because of changing orders. At least we did it well and fast; we even got a complement from the quartermaster, an unheard of thing! He probably felt embarrassed for having to give us such ridiculous orders.]

You see, excersize works by causing small rips and tears in the muscles. In response, your body rebuilds the muscles bigger, badder, faster than before, along with a host of cappilaries to complement them with blood and Banba. With enough sleep, you get pumped. Without enough sleep, determined by doctors and sports professionals to be at least 6 hours, your body weakens from the excersize, without being able to build it back, an unhealthy cycle, eventually resulting in Stress Fractures as the infrastructure of your bones erodes and the muscles supporting them atrophy.

However, the rule from the Central Command Staff (or whatever 'Matkal' stands for) is 6 hrs. from Nightly Dismissal until Morning Report For Duty. When I asked my commanders about how much time they assume it takes to get dressed, brush one's teeth, shave, and go to the bathroom, I got dirty looks. This is the one thing that really gets my gander up about the army. If we're only going to get 5.5 hours, then tell us that, v'zehu! On the other hand, this has provided me with only more opportunities for entertaining my comrades with hilarity and humor, at the army's expense. I guess, in the end, we're even.

This innovation also protects the modern soldier from abuse, and deadly accidents resulting from fatigue-induced hallucinations at the firing range. Nothing bad has happened to me, but there was a case in the other Class (there are three in my platoon, two hesder [religious], one hiloni [non-religious]) where a soldier aimed too low and shot some sand near himself (sand is just more shrapnel, under most circumstances). I don't think you can replace sleep with shouting at people.

By the way, Mom, Dad, I made this story up; nobody ever got hurt, and there never was any accident at our very safe, huggable cuddly firing range. Love y'all, over and out.

Military Impressionism

"Wow, Amitai, how is the army???"

Never thought you'd ask.

Right now [due to lack of internet access, I am publishing this far later than intended, "now," is therefore relative to the monthlong lag], I am enjoying my first real Shabbat Leave, and I must say that describing the army, even after only 2 weeks in, is a challenge, as it is a wholly different experience. Fortunately, it is not radically different from many experiences I and you have had before, and I think I will be able to convey something meaningful. This post will be about my impressions of the army, and the atmosphere there.

First of all, the army is INTENSE. There is never any time to do anything, as you are always running from place to place, except when you're standing in one place, and then, you're not supposed to move at all. If you move at all, they will then make you run from place to place, to teach you how to not move at all. There is always someone scrutinizing you, so you must look over your shoulder constantly. Your performance is evaluated and judged, if not exactly in an official way, then at least in the minds of your commanders, and if not in the minds of your commanders, then they're doing a very good job of making us think that they are.

Secondly, the army is ON TIME. I am slowly getting it beaten into me that it is more important to be on time than to be prepared. This seems to be a great life-lesson as well, and if I absorb this army nurturing well, it should serve me as an alternative to my Triple-Checking nature. If you are not ready, say, with your cleaning your room or gun, you can ask for a time extension [ahhh, Daytona USA...], but you'd darn well better ask! Otherwise, you're Late, and being on time is holy here.

Thirdly, the army is CRAMPED. Space is tight, and you must simultaneously juggle all your possessions without losing anything, and also having everything ready and at hand (so that you will be on time); and so you must get by on very little. How so? Clothes and washing are tight, and so you get by on very few changes of clothing. I spent extra cash on changes of underwear and socks for every day, but that's just me, the mefunak.

There are so many implications that follow from these atmospheric conditions, but posts must be short if they are to be read, so I will fill you in on the structure of the army, funny stories, and quirks of life in coming posts. Over and out.