Yom Sayarot

Not having slept since the beginning of my tests this morning, I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. However, I want to make sure I remember all the details of the gibbush. Sadly, although I finished Yom Sayarot, I didn't get invited to any more tests. I'm certainly disappointed in the results, but I'm proud of myself for finishing and I know I could not have pushed myself more than I did.

On Sunday morning I, along with two others from the garin, made our way to the meeting point. Along the journey we met a few others in their crisp-white mandatory tshirts and running shorts and we started to anticipate the details of the tests. After hanging around at the meeting point for some time we hopped on the army buses going to the unknown location for the gibbush.

As we arrived we were sent to register for the two days and were issued a number. This number was our identification for the duration of the two days; no names, just numbers. Mine was 33. Though I am not superstitious in the slightest, I began convincing myself that this particular number was a good omen. We had to then write our numbers on the front and back of our shirts.

After that, we were sent to the doctors for a last-minute check. With my heart rate quickly rising with adrenaline, the doctor said it was too high to continue to the tests. Oh Lord! Me and my bloody heart...I come all this way just to be turned around because of my heart rate! Anyway, she told me to step outside with the other umpteen over-eager guys and relax. I returned a few minutes later and she quickly pronounced me fit and ready to go. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Next came more standing around and waiting (for what, no one really knew), and then we had to fill out forms giving our preferences for the units' tryouts. Yom Sayarot could lead to tests for Sayeret Matkal, Shayetet 13 (Navy Seals) and Chovlim (Naval Commanders). These units are the best of the best, and it was an amazing opportunity just to try my hand at this first stage.

That afternoon we were meant to do the Bar-Or Test, a 2km run, push ups, and sit ups. However, on that day there was a heatwave, and so the commanders couldn't do it. Instead, we got the equipment ready and cleared the testing area of any twigs and wood. Looking up and seeing 500 people clearing tiny twigs from the area was a surreal sight. It felt like a huge time-waster (it probably was). 

Next came dinner. Here was where I showed my true British heritage. The commanders decided that the best way to feed 500 guys was to unleash them all simultaneously onto 3 tables of food. Consequently, in all the balagan that ensued, I decided to patiently queue and wait for an opening to appear. It meant that I went slightly hungry that night. Legally, the army have to give you 7 hours sleep before the tests, which meant that we were given sleeping bags and sent to sleep at around 9pm.

Then the tests began. We were woken up at around 4am and divided into groups for the rest of the day. We collected our equipment (stretchers, shovels, sand bags, and jerrycans) and walked to the area we had cleared the day before. The area was of sand; soft and fine sand that dragged down every step you took. The first thing we did was to take our equipment and carry it up a sand dune. This dune was without a doubt the steepest I have ever seen. I wondered whether or not they really expected us to work on this particular part of the dune. My pondering was quickly (and painfully) answered. After a quick pee break, we carried the equipment back down the dune. Then we began. For the first hour, we did nothing but sprint up and down this dune. Each time, the commander would ask us whether or not we could improve our position in the group. Each time we would answer yes, and in turn he would reply "tze!" ("Go!") and we would again sprint up and down. By the end, my legs were burning and I was trying desperately to catch my breath. Every step in the sand drained your energy, and my shoes were so full of sand that my toes were hurting with the pressure. But I couldn't very well ask to stop and empty them. In this first part, quite a few people in my team dropped out, and I saw them sitting down and drinking water. No matter how attractive it looked, I kept reminding myself why I was there. No way was I going to give up. (Besides, if I did it wouldn't make for a very exciting blog).

After an hour or so we were given a short rest break to drink water. I made sure I was the one pouring the water for everyone. I decided at that point that I would take the day break by break. It wouldn't matter how tired I would get, I would just have to wait for that sip of water. 

The next part was also sprinting, but this time with stretchers. We were told to sprint up and down the dune, and the first few down had to carry the stretcher and the jerrycans up the dune, whilst everyone else had to carry on with their dune sprints. I managed to carry the stretcher a couple of times, and the jerrycans a couple of times. After another hour came another welcomed water break, and after that came the third task; to build a hole. The order was clear; to dig a hole 1m x 1m x 1m. I decided to go about it tactically and ended up with what I thought was my best part of the day. The walls of my hole were almost 1m exactly, including it's height, and the walls were straight. For somebody with minimal DIY skills to say the least, I couldn't believe my luck. After about an hour of digging, the commanders came round to check and ask questions about the holes we had dug. One even said that I had done this task very well. That spurred me on.

After yet another water break, we started on the final and most difficult task. We filled up sandbags and placed them in a line at the base of the sand dune. We had to crawl towards the sand bags, put them on our shoulders, run up the dune, back down, drop them at the bottom, and run back to where the crawling began. This went on for about an hour. Each crawl took so much energy through the sand, and this was by far the hardest part. I was happy with my speed though, and I definitely felt like I had finished the day on a high. We then sat round in a half-circle and introduced ourselves to the group and the commanders. It turns out that one of the commanders happens to be a big fan of London, and loves West Hampstead (a funny word to hear in an Israeli accent).

Myself, Jacob, and Ari post-Yom Sayarot (before we found out our results)

We then returned back to the "base" and waited to hear our results, whether we were accepted to the units' tests or not. It was an anxious wait. One of the commanders read out the numbers of those who had got in and those who hadn't. My number was among those that hadn't. I was very dissappointed. I could not have worked harder than I did, and I pushed myself beyond the limits I thought I had. However, for one reason or another, I didn't make it through. But I guess that all is for the best, and if my personality or character is not suited to such units, then so be it. There are plenty of other amazing places in the army, and I will still push myself to the limit to give what I can give.

The next thing is to decide what my preferences are for units in the army, and to pass my Hebrew retake. So onwards and upwards.

My Profile (finally) and my fight for Yom Sayarot

Finally finally finally I have received my profile...a 97!! Happiness doesn't quite describe the feeling. On Sunday I made my way, along with another guy from the garin, back to the Lishkat Giyus in Tiberias. After a two and a half hour wait I was called in to see the cardiologist. By the way, during my long wait I felt very old, surrounded by 16 year old Israelis all going for their Tzav Rishon. It hit home how, though the 16 year olds might not realise it, they are given such big responsibilities at such a young age.

I was given an ECG test and the cardiologist listened to my heart and took my blood pressure. Again, the blood pressure was high, however I had come armed with papers from a cardiologist in the UK explaining that all was fine with my heart. Without delay, the Israeli cardiologist pronounced my heart fit for full service and gave me a 97 profile. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief and smiled a huge grin. After all that, all the frustration of the last two weeks, I was given a top profile.

As mentioned in the previous post, the army saw fit to send me to Michve Alon in December. Although I could retake the Hebrew test in November, it would mean that even with a 97 profile I could still not be allowed to do Yom Sayarot, the tests for the elite units. The army do not allow those who need to go to Michve to try out for the special units. However, I pushed and I pushed and I pushed. In the end, having written a letter to the army explaining my motivation, I received my official summons to Yom Sayarot. This is not something I take for granted; I have fought for this and I will give my all to the tests. My thanks go to Garin Tzabar and my Mashakiot (soldiers with our garin) for helping me so much along the way.

My official summons to Yom Sayarot

I have been dreaming of this opportunity for years, and now it's here. Next week are the tests, and they will be grueling physical tests. They are a day or two full of sprints up sand dunes, crawling, sprints with weights, and group exercises. At the end of the tests, if you succeed you could be asked to come back and test for specific special forces units in their own gibbushim. There are gibbushim for Shayetet 13, Sayeret Matkal, and each have offshoots for units like Shaldag, Unit 669 etc. However, even finishing Yom Sayarot is an achievement. Many people have given me often conflicting advice on Yom Sayarot. However, all I can do is give my absolute all. In the end, this is a chance to serve my country at some of the highest levels. Will let you know how it goes! Until then, I'm resting up and preparing.

Here goes....

More results from the Tzav Rishon...Kaba, Dapar, Michve Alon, and finding strength in frustration

This week I have found out three very important results from my Tzav Rishon. The first two were my Kaba and Dapar. The Kaba is your "personal classification" score and the Dapar is your "intelligence" score. In the latter, I didn't do as well as I would have liked, but at least I passed the threshold required of any candidate for officers' school (if I were to want to do that one day).

My Kaba is 53 out of 56, which again is not the top but it's fairly decent and again, allows me the theoretical opportunity for officers' school in the future. To be honest, I still have no idea what the marking criteria is. But those are my scores!

Though the scores were decent, they weren't necessarily what I was hoping for (although they will have no effect on which unit I end up drafting to). Added to which, I received the utterly surprising news that according to my tests I will have to go to Michve Alon. Michve Alon is the army Ulpan - a 3 month Hebrew education programme. Though you begin your army service at the start of Michve, every single person has said that it's a waste of three months. I just don't understand why I have been officially placed there, along with half of my garin. Every guy, bar one from the garin, has been told that they have to go to Michve. Statistically this makes no sense, given the fact that in the previous garin here on Lavi for instance, only 1 out of 25 or so had to go.

Having to go to Michve also complicates things with applying for certain units. It's all a little confusing but bottom line, I am fighting with everything I have not to go there.

Coupled with the above frustrations, I have the added pressure of not yet knowing my medical profile, the crucial results from the Tzav Rishon. As I've said, I have my appointment with the cardiologist on Sunday and I will hopefully know then. 

So it's been a frustrating and sobering week to say the least. Everything seems up in the air and uncertain. However, the way I see it, at least I get this merit to feel frustrated on this Aliyah journey as a lone soldier. In an ideal world of course, none of these annoyances would exist. However they do, and that's life. All I can do is work my hardest, push my hardest and give my all. Because despite the difficult uncertainties that I'm facing, I'm here and I will give my all to serve. This is my dream.

So I will carry on training hard, working hard on my Hebrew, and I will update the blog once I receive my profile.

Tzav Rishon

Just had my Tzav Rishon, and what a day it was!

We headed off early to the nearest army office in Tiberias. Having discussed and thought about this day for so long, my mind was buzzing and I was so excited. When we arrived, we waited for our first interviews and Hebrew tests (waiting was a recurring theme of the day). The interview is just a way to introduce yourself to the army so that they can draw up a profile of who you are, where you've come from etc. Within the interview I had my Hebrew test, which involved answering questions like "what do you like to do on holiday" and "why did you make Aliyah?". I then had to fill in the blanks in open-ended sentences, all of which I thought went okay. All this will determine whether or not I have to go to Michve Alon, or army Ulpan. I really hope not!

Jason and I, with our good luck cards from Alexa, another member of the Garin

Lishkat Giyus, the army office where the Tzav Rishon took place

After that I was sent to a room I wasn't meant to be sent to (fun!), and eventually found myself in the Psychtechnic exam room. This test helps builds up your profile, and will determine whether or not I can progress in rank in the army and one day become an officer, so I took it very seriously. It was a half an hour test of completing sequences of shapes under timed pressure. At the end of the first part of the test the computer said that I hadn't completed all the questions, and yet I definitely had. So after a slight inner-panic I told the soldier there what had happened and I was greeted with a smile and "it will be okay", whatever that means....Never have I been so annoyed at a smile. I just really hope it was okay! The results come out on Sunday, so we'll soon see (you get the results from https://www.aka.idf.il/main/giyus/).

After that came the medical. I had my blood pressure, my height and my weight taken and told to pee in a cup. Due to nerves and excitement, my blood pressure reading was sky high and this was immediately noted by the doctor. His first question was where I wanted to serve. I replied that I didn't know exactly but that I wanted to give my all and would love to try out for the special units. He immediately said I couldn't because of the blood pressure reading, at which I began a tirade of angry explanations. I had had this problem before with my medical for Garin Tzabar, and I had had to undergo all sorts of tests with a cardiologist, to be told that my heart was in perfect order. At this the doctor told me to calm down and threatened me with a non-combat profile. I quickly calmed down. However, despite all my notes and forms, I have been referred to an army cardiologist in a couple weeks' time. Then, having to strip naked and having my nether-regions examined by a middle-aged male doctor was no real comfort (although no problems there thankfully).

So where am I at the moment? If the cardiologist gives me the go-ahead I receive a 97 profile and can try out for the special forces units. If not, I will receive a 72 and can apply for tanks, artillery, and engineers, amongst others. Of course I am frustrated, but these things have a way of working themselves out, and whatever happens, I will be doing my very best for my country. I will be happy wherever I end up.

On a practical note, today has made me think once again about tanks. I have thought of putting tanks as my first choice for a while. They might not have the immediate prestige about them, but they are respected by all. Lochamim (fighters) in tanks work so hard, and their work is of such vital importance. I quite like the idea of a "get on with it" kind of tafkid. Added to which, progression in ranks can happen a lot faster in tanks, something that could be important to a 22 year old like me. I am thinking hard of putting tanks as my first choice, even if I receive a 97 profile. We shall see. Until then, I just need my ticker to get the all-clear (again).

Tomorrow night is Rosh Hashana and I will be with my family in Ra'anana. Saying "Shehecheyanu", thanking God for bringing us to this point, will be especially poignant for me - my first Rosh Hashana as an Israeli. I wish everybody a Shana Tova, a happy and a healthy new year.

שנה טובה