Yipes! Stripes!

I'm completely exhausted. I didn't get all that much sleep last night. Partly I got to sleep late due to the Slichot service (I'd have fallen asleep standing up if not for the shofar blowing.) and my usual getting up in the middle of the night to piss. Keeping hydrated has it's price. Being on the top bunk and having to put on some pants also tends to complicate the early morning bathroom runs. Every night as I sit there I wish I'd just snagged an empty water bottle and had the balls to use it.

I woke up this morning from a dream about zombies (I was just loading my rifle- oddly enough it was in the closet from my room as a kid.) when I woke up. It was the sound of an engine. Coming, going, coming going, a propeller engine. A UAV? They don't move like that. do they? I got to the window at my feet and managed to see a little yellow crop duster. An old ag-sprayer working the kibbutzim in the area. It was 0700. I climbed down, dressed in my stretched out, stinking, work t shirt. I didn't see the point in keeping it washed or wearing a fresh one. (I also wasn't that picky about my underwear. When working here I wear two pairs, alternating. I change them when I shower, saving the clean stuff for trips off base and weekends. The times when my stench might be noticed.) After brushing my teeth I sat down with an energy drink, granola bar and my copy of Beaufort. I got though the granola bar, the energy drink and about a chapter before I looked at my watch. Five minutes to flag raising. I tied my boots, bloused my trousers, tucked in my shirt and grabbed my much hated Sar El hat.

I hate the Sar El hats. First of all, they look like they have been designed for old men. Wear one of these in Florida, hail a cab and they'll ask you which nursing home you're going to. It's also a lousy hat. Especially for work here. The material doesn't breath. There is nothing to cover your ears or the back or your neck. And, on top of all that, it's WHITE. That's a lousy color for a hat you're going to get dirty in.

Hatikva, breakfast at 0800. Finished by 0815. Top off the jerrycans with ice and water. Fill my Camelbak. Organize the tools where people can grab them for the bus at 0830. We also loaded fresh Made in the USA camo nets. Somewhere in there I managed to get two safety pins from another volunteer. The pins Ehud had wanted last night.

Hezbollah 0, IDF 1

Yesterday Hezbollah took a shot at an Israeli patrol along the border. They fired a missile at the IDF patrol vehicle. Either they missed or the vehicle armor held. No Israeli soldiers were killed, they returned fire and killed one of the attackers. We weren't told how near or far that was from where we've been working. I found myself wondering how well those missile fences at our outpost work.

I gave the pins to Ehud who pocketed them for later. We dragged our tools and camo nets on to the bunker complex at the border. As we worked I heard the familiar WHAM of an explosion. (Familiar to me from my last base which had an artillery range.) We didn't see anything at first, but then a couple miles away there was a dust cloud on the border fence. There was no additional alarm. I scrounged some angle iron for us to secure a cammo net and when that was done Ehud sprung his surprise on me. He had Madrid and Winnipeg each grap one of my arms and hold them out. Then there in the sight of g-d, the United Nations UNFIL and Hezbollah he pinned the three bars and felafel of an IDF staff sergeant (Samal Rishon) onto my sleeves. I don't remember what I said. I know he and I have gotten along since moment one, but I still can't figure out how I earned these. But damn if I'm taking them off without someone ordering me to.

A few minutes later there was another boom at some point. I heard a Huey, but didn't look. Apparently it was actually a two ship of Cobras. The story Ehud gave use from his LT was that some combat engineers were detonating mines along the border fence. The UN was checking to see exactly what was on whose side of the fence and we were essentially getting pulled off the outpost. (It was lunchtime anyway.) As we were waiting for the bus a UN SUV pulled up to the gate and demanded entry. As we grabbed a few photos of ourselves in front of the gently fluttering Israeli and Golani brigade flags, an Italian and Spanish officer, each in a blue beret went into the outpost to do whatever it is they do. I highly doubt we'll ever find out who exactly planted those mines, but the UN seems more concerned by Israel's blowing them up than by whomever planted them.

After lunch we were told to report to the common area in our barracks wearing swim gear. Were were spending the afternoon at a kibbutz swimming pool. Usually I'd protest the lack of working, but not today. I wanted some me time. I also wanted to see Liege and Paris in bathing suits. (Worth it.) There was a men v. women water basketball game in which Paris turned out to be a sniper sinking every shot. It also turned out that two of the guys couldn't make shots from 3 feet away. I dunked a couple times, but in the end we were beaten by two baskets.

I finally made my decision on Eilat. It's been moved to the top of the list for next time. One full day just isn't enough, and this Sar El group is as close to perfect as it gets. I can't leave it. In the course of deciding I called dad. This is one of the kinds of decisions I've always had problems with and he knows how I think at times like this. I ended up telling him where I am. If he's worried (I'm betting, “Yes, but he's not losing any sleep over it.”) he hid it well. He was less than surprised as well. He just cited my Sar El pattern. Border with the West Bank near a hot spot from the Second Intifada. Base quite close to Gaza and the Egyptian border. It just made sense. We're starting to think of how we'll do things next week when I get home. To be honest it's one of the furthest things from my mind. As ready as I was to go home last week, now I feel like “Home,” and my life back in the 'States is as far away emotionally as it is physically.

UPDATE: It turns out the new radiator for Ron's Jeep is still stuck in customs. It looks like Eilat was off the table anyway. With luck I'll be able to get some trigger time in at the range before Yom Kippur. Why do they call it a "Fast," when it seems to go forever?