We Happy Few

A friend of mine once referred to me as a warrior. I told her that my buddies in the army would never let me hear the end of it if they got wind of that. We don't think of ourselves as warriors.

We come from all walks of life. Nir, my crew commander is an insurance agent and our crew is made up of a bus driver, some high tech geeks, a guy that gives marketing seminars and I am an English teacher/farmer/landscaper.

This week the brigade my battalion belongs to carried out an exercise designed to simulate a scenario where Israel has been attacked and the reserves have been called up to push back an invasion.

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On Sunday we made the transition from civilians to soldiers and the next day we set off to meet the enemy.

The idea was to refresh our skills as artillerymen and to test our ability to function under stress, deprived of sleep and even proper food. But they didn't have to teach us to work as a team.

I don't recall ever receiving a direct command, and that goes for the rest as far as I know. We know what is expected of us and the job gets done on a basis of mutual respect between the ranks and concern for each other.

And its not all hardship either. There is the ritual of making Turkish coffee on a primus and sleeping around a bonfire made of ammo bundles after dark when the desert gets cold. (I crawled up with Zacki on to the grating over the engine, which was still warm, and nodded off looking up at the Milky Way in a crystal desert sky.)

I think that people who are awed by warriors or the idea of the warrior are people that have never been at war. For us war isn't about glory. It's a job and a dirty one at that. The truth is that we have better things to do. And in modern Israel, more and more of the burden of national defense is borne by less and less of us.

My friends and I in the 670th aren't warriors. War isn't what defines us by a long shot. I think I would call us citizen soldiers, with an emphasis on citizen. We take up arms out of a sense of responsibility, not lust for battle. We reluctantly leave our homes and change into uniform because somebody has to. Because if we don't, we won't have a home to return to.

The ordinary citizen is the foundation our country is built on, the mortar that holds society together and the reservists are what stand between home and obliteration.

I think that the reserve army is one of the things that are still good about Israel. One of the things that are still beautiful and unspoiled. And even if there are fewer and fewer of us, I believe its worth it.

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."

(William Shakespeare)

(I have created a new blog called "Six Seventy" - http://sixseventy.blogspot.com/ - where I will down load pictures from our various adventures in the army. It is for and I hope will be by the soldiers of the 670th, so it's in Hebrew. You are welcome to visit.)

יצרתי בלוג חדש על מנת להוריד תמונות שלנו צהתעסוקות השונות

http://sixseventy.blogspot.com/

By All Means

"I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some." (I Corinthians 9:22)

It is little known that nearly a full century before Theodor Herzl wrote "Der Judenstaat" (The Jewish State), a group of Evangelical Anglicans (which apparently is not an oxymoron) called the London Society for Promoting Christianity Amongst the Jews were promoting the idea of a Jewish homeland in the land of Israel in anticipation of the Second Coming.

Fortunately for the Christian dreamers of Zion, in England the head of the church is also head of state and it was only natural that religion oil the wheels of Empire and visa versa. Patronage of the Jewish community in the Ottoman province of Palestine was both the pretext and modus operandi of British intervention in Turkish internal affairs in the Middle East, while the LSPCAJ lobbied for the venture at home.

The Ottoman firman permitting a British consul within the walls of Old Jerusalem paved the way for the Mission. The church was allowed as a personal chapel for the consul, although proportionally this was like strapping the engine of a 747 on a VW Bug and calling it a turbo. Since the British compound is due west of the Temple Mount, the church faces the rising sun as prescribed by Christian tradition, but like a synagogue the direction of worship is also towards the Holy of Holies. In order to disarm Jewish suspicions, there are no crucifixes or images in the sanctuary (Although cleverly, the church itself is built in the shape of a cross.) Instead, verses from the Old and New Testament written in Hebrew adorn the alter and an ark.

While those Pre Zionist English dreamers didn't live to see the fruits of their labors, they played an important part in its cultivation. They promoted Jewish settlement in the city and in the development of the modern neighborhoods outside the walls in West Jerusalem. For more than a century and a half there has been a Jewish majority in Jerusalem.

And while the dream of a Jewish state is today a reality, the vision of a mass conversion of Israel failed to appear.

Well, almost. Today Christ Church is primarily a guest house, but its still a church. Messianic Jews use the sanctuary on Shabbat, sanctuary in both its meanings as within the walls of the compund it is most likely one of the few places they can meet without interference. And I understand that there is a regular English service (Mass?) held there on Sundays. Our second night there, a small group of Christian Arabs met in the patio under our window. I knew they were worshiping from the sound of hymns, even though I didn't understand the words in Arabic.

A friend of mine, an Anglican, once told me that their religion is Catholic in practice and their faith pivots on obedience. A fresh convert, 'saved' from her Evangelical upbringing, she painted her new religion in black and white. It seems to me that the Anglican Church is able to change color like a chameleon, turning its skin to fit circumstance. I'm sure that obedience is the rule for followers, but expedience is the keyword for their leaders.

I am not the one to judge if Christ Church was the product of cynical statesmen or a sincere attempt to bridge the gap between Christians and Jews. I suspect it was a little of both.

Christ Church is one of my favorite places. The compound with hidden gardens and the rooms with the original stone floors and domed ceilings; waking in the early hours to the sounds of church bells and Muslim calls to prayer in the old city – it takes you back to 19th century Jerusalem and somehow the experience feels more authentic than in more modern accommodations.

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Christ Church belongs to a bygone age, born out of the politics of Empire and not so Catholic currents in the Anglican stream. It is an anomaly; unlike any other church of its day, and an island of tranquility in a city known for turmoil. It is certainly worth a visit.

Breach in the Gate

It is told of how merchants from far away countries came to Jerusalem. They would set up booths out side the city gates and peddle their wares to the locals. It must have been the ancient version of a shopping mall.

Nehemiah, incensed when they persisted to do business on Shabbat in the holy city, instructed the guards to close the gates. He wanted to separate the people from outside influences, to prevent the commercialization of society - to keep those merchants of Tyre from turning God's people into mall rats.

After the War of Independence in 1948-9, Jerusalem was divided between Jordan and the modern state of Israel. The border ran along walls on the western side of the ancient city, a no-mans-land deserted until the city was reunited in 1967. As a result, the city benefited from a wide strip of prime real estate that escaped development and over the years has been turned into a north by south thoroughfare in the heart of the city as well as parks and other public works.


Just outside Jaffa Gate the area around an abandoned Ottoman water reservior is now a city park where concerts are performed outside on warm summer evenings. Every August Jerusalem hosts an international artists' fair for two week after the 9th of Av (The date of the destruction of both the first and second Temples.) The foriegn diplomatic corps in Jerusalem sponser exhibits featuring artists, dancers and musicians from their native lands alongside the local artists.






I don't believe I can describe it better than the photos I took last week .......





























































No doubt that Jerusalem's artist's fair isn't as impressive as festivals held elsewhere. It isn't a reason to visit Israel, but if you live here or happen to be passing through, it's alot of fun.



Today the nations don't make the trip to Jerusalem in order to make a buck. (I didn't see many buyers among the many just lookers.) As a capital and and the heritage of three major religions, countries are bartering for visibility at the Jerusalem's little fair. And Jerusalem loves it.














Nehemiah is probably turning in his grave. Instead of bolting the gates, Jerusalem's fathers have broken a breach in the walls.










Today Jerusalem's gates are open to one and all.

Changing of the Guard

Last week my battalion, the 670th Artillery Bat. took a refresher course. They had first aid lessons and ammunition updates, and we got to practice loading, aiming and firing on squeaky clean simulators designed to replicate our ancient M-109 self propelled howitzers.

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I don't know what it is, but something was missing. Was it being covered with dust, the blast of gunpowder when the ol' girl fires, the smell of men that haven't bathed for a week or the taste of the Turkish coffee we make when we think the CO isn't looking? (But he really knows, 'cause he always just happens to show up when it's ready.)
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Soldiers have stories they can't tell. There are things about being in the army that you can't explain. You can't understand if you weren't there.




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Israeli soldiers have this tough macho image, but it's not true. Lior (on the right) came out of the closet recently. I don't usually use the G-word to describe people because I believe a person's preference is a personal matter, but Lior final admitted what I've suspected for some time. He's a Geek.

The crazy thing is that Lior snagged a wife most men can only dream about. A couple of weeks ago he brought her to a brother soldier's wedding and she stole the show. She gave the Vulcan salute and said, "Live long and prosper." How many female Trekys live on planet Earth? (It blew me away; after she did that I hardly noticed the bride.)

Tzachi (on the left) lives in an institution for the criminally insane in Tel Aviv called Florentine. The rational behind releasing him for reserve duty (and letting him bear arms) is that when he's in the army he's off the streets. I know exactly how long he's been in the 670th - he arrived to do his first tour of duty as a reservist at an outpost I commanded on the Syrian border two weeks before my youngest Odelia was born.


I'm something of a dinosaur in uniform. Nir, my crew commander was on vacation in Holland, so Ori took his place. Ori hadn't been born yet when I joined the army.

(And the cute blond is younger than my daughter. She also out ranks me. Note the officer bars.)

Serving in the Israeli Army has been a significant part of my life - it is one of the reasons I came here. I don't know how much time I have left before my soldiering days will be over. Sooner or later my body will betray me, or they will just kick me out.

There's never been much ceremony at the changing of the guard in the 670th. The guys I knew when I joined got tired and then you didn't see them anymore, and new faces took their place. One day I will be gone, and then I will be just another one of the stories the guys tell to pass the time.