The Price of Freedom

"The Price of Freedom," said Jefferson, "is Eternal vigilance." But what is meant by this vigil that had no beginning, and has no end?

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Back when your visions of the army followed plot lines from Delta Force 3 or Under Seige, you may have been mystified at my acceptance to the Israeli armed forces. "But Amitai isn't a kung foo master!," you thought to yourself as you nodded politely at my martial artless conversation on my induction plans. "What," you continue to yourself, "do they do with the useless cruft of karate-deprived humanity that is supposed to protect my holy vacation spot of choice?"

Tada! - most of the regular duties of Today's Army's combat soldiers consist of, in one way or another, guard duty. There are many different things to watch, and many different things to watch out for, but the experience is almost always the same: a true experience of Endlessness; you cannot FastForward, you cannot skip the commercials, you cannot cut out the boring dialogue to see the camo-wearing, bridge-exploding, ninja-star-throwing action. The price of a free nation is [temporary] Eternity.

But guard duty doesn't have to be a boring topic to discuss, as I do here, since it bears ramifications regarding a person's soul, religious complications ("I'm sorry ma'am, but your son is not only suffering from senioritis, but is experiencing religious complications." ), and the power heirarchy in the army. This entry is just the beginning.

A short history of a soldier's experience with guard duty:
In boot camp, they ease you into the concept, starting you off immediately on 30 minute stints walking in a tight rectangle around the barracks, unarmed, in your dress uniform. You cannot eat, talk to anyone, sit, read the posters on the wall [the ones the army puts up for you to read], lean on a wall, or anything else, really, that doesn't consist of walking and staring ahead. A lesson is learned: if you don't want it stolen, keep an eye on it.

Once we guns on day #3, we had to guard with them. Once we got combat vests, we had to wear those as well. At least we didn't have to put the heavy flak helmets on. But this was all training for the long guard details. My first experience with real shmirah (guard duty -trans.) was a full two hour stint from 8 to 10pm outside the base armory. It was a cool, crisp Saturday night with a beautiful, clear desert sky, and I was well-rested from Shabbat (the one time during the week that this is true in basic training). I spent Eternity thinking. I paced and thought until Eternity ended. Wow! I am being trusted with real guard duty! In the Israeli army! A dream come true! Ok, these exclamation points are giving me a headache, so I'll cease, but please understand that that night, during the first two hours (4 times the "regular" guard duty!) the punctuation never stopped. When you have problems or complications in life, taking the time to dissect and analyze them can really get you back on track, allow you to recenter. Personally, I had some girl issues, and two hours wasn't enough!! (ouch, my head).

My 2nd taste of real guard duty came four hours later on the 2 to 4am shift. This was the opposite end of the spectrum of experience: I was zonked out of my gourd, and by myself. Staying awake took all my strength and ingenuity, and the seconds passed like hours. I realized at that time how much honest to goodness energy it takes to have a good Think. All those mishnayot I memorized, all the math problems, all the ethical dilemmas, etc., could not be gripped by my flacid mind drowning in exhaustion. It's the Chinese head-dropping fatigue torture, where the very end you seek, sleep, jerks you awake. The wait passed more slowly than a camper last on line for the BBQ after a fast day. It turns out that I had had the best and worst of times in less than 8 hours. It never got [legitimately] better than those first two productive hours, and never worse than the 2nd two, in my slanted Romantic memory.

Your tolerance grows with time, like a callous, thickening skin. When we did 30 minute stints, one hour seemed impossible; but the same perspective held for two hours when we did one, 3 when we did 2, and now we do four hours regularly. It still drags on or passes quickly based upon how much sleep you've had, and/or if you have a companion to guard with you. The best thing to do on shmirah is, like in life, to Be Happy. Guard duty gives you the time to appreciate the feeling, and I highly reccomend that to anyone. The catch-22 is that happiness consists of three things in the army: food, sleep, and shabbat [getting out], all of which are contradicted by being on guard duty. Stinks for us, eh? That's when the ideology (mentioned 7 months earlier in posts on this blog) actually comes into play, and lends support. That, and breaking shmirah...more on that later, but right now I need some sleep before I go guard for the army.