Wednesday, November 6 was a tremendous day. My son, Avi Cunningham, graduated from his IDF army training and received his beret. In Israel, IDF cadets culminate their six months of training with the Masa Kumta—the Beret Journey. This is the final and most difficult journey of their training: a 13-hour, 50-kilometer hike across difficult mountainous terrain, in full combat gear and carrying 40% of their body weight, several liters of water, and their guns. The last 5 kilometers they are also carrying weighted stretchers, to simulate evacuation of wounded soldiers. They spent six months preparing for this—it’s grueling, exhausting, and a huge achievement.
It’s a difficult hike, done overnight to avoid the heat and sun. The soldiers are a tight group, with tremendous camaraderie. Avi took on extra weight or equipment to help a fellow soldier who was struggling … and he’s not the only one who did so. They call each other achi—“my brother.”
The Masa Kumta has many heartwarming traditions associated with it. Families come to meet their soldiers at the end of the march (6 a.m.!), and hike the last 5 kilometers along with the entire brigade. All the familes wear T-shirts with their son’s picture and cute or funny sayings and artwork. They carry flags and cheer the exhausted boys to complete the journey. When each boy has their turn to carry a corner of the (very heavy) stretcher, their father takes the opposite corner to help their son carry the stretcher for the final leg. Rabbis, teachers and friends come to show support. The soldiers sing songs and chant cheers as they march … It’s quite a scene.
At our particular march, the singing was periodically punctuated with random people calling out the election news as each state’s results were announced. Given the Biden administration’s propensity for attempting to castrate Israel’s war response by threatening the denial of arms shipments, this election was of special significance to these families whose sons were about to deploy to the front lines. The soldiers and families completed the march together, and it ended at an army memorial monument where they have the Tekes Kumta—Beret Ceremony.
When the march was over, hundreds of soldiers and their families gathered in the area where the ceremony was being held. Here is what the scene was not like: anything even remotely resembling the American version of a military event. Here is what it was like: Jewish sleep-away camp visiting day, but with guns. Imagine a Catskills sleep-away camp with visiting parents, complete with T-shirts, moms carrying bags of snacks, camp songs, bunk cheers, and hundreds of hungry, tired, sleep-deprived campers … with facial hair and very large guns. Now add in a dash of Israeli bravado, a bunch of Sephardi moms who pull entire five-course meals out of the trunk of their cars for a tailgate party, and you’re starting to get the vibe.
After a while of milling around and noshing, the scene starts to resemble an elementary school performance: mothers jockeying for good picture-taking positions, commanders herding the soldiers into position, and boys waving to their parents as they spot them in the crowd. There are no rows of chairs for the audience, no chairs at all—because it’s Israel and Israelis do not sit nicely in rows … ever. Families staked out spots to stand against the gate that separated us from the cadets who were (the only ones) standing in orderly rows, awaiting the ceremony.
Eventually, trumpet music starts and the ceremony begins. There are speeches, including one they broadcast over the speakers from a military leader who was in the field in Gaza. That made it all too real—Gaza is perhaps one to two hours’ drive from the ceremony location, yet they couldn’t spare this man from the front for even that long. The boys stood in line, and one-by-one received their soldier berets in exchange for their cadet berets. As Avi received his beret, the commander paused to put his hands on Avi’s head to bless him (because my son is his son, too). Avi walked up as a cadet, and walked away as a soldier.
In the telling of this story, I refer to the soldiers as “boys” in some places, and “soldiers” in others, despite the fact that they clearly aren’t “boys” anymore. That reflects the cognitive dissonance that mothers feel when their “little boy” is about to put his life on the line for their country, and for the right of Jews to live in Israel without daily rocket barrages or being burned alive in their beds.
These boys are true soldiers. They are tough. They have grit and determination and courage. They finished a grueling 50-kilometer, all-night hike by singing at the top of their lungs. Many of them, like Avi, are American “lone soldiers,” without full-time parents in the country. Unlike native Israelis, they weren’t obligated to do this—they chose to. They accepted their berets with pride, knowing that they were all going to Gaza, but not all would return. They know they are part of something much bigger than themselves, yet each one is a crucial part of it.
This nation loves its soldiers in a way I’ve never seen. Every soldier is every parent’s son. Parents see any soldier at the cash register buying food, they insist on paying. I saw a man on Ben Yehuda Street chasing after soldiers and pressing money into their hands. My landlord in Jerusalem learned we were heading back to the USA, and insisted that I give him Avi’s number so he could take care of Avi’s needs and have him over for meals when Avi is on leave and I am not here. When soldiers post on local WhatsApp and Facebook groups that they need something for their apartment or for their unit, people jump to provide it. Every soldier is a hero to everyone.
Immediately following the ceremony, families had an hour or so with their sons before the boys had to return to their base to pack up their training base and move to an active deployment base near the Gaza border (yes, pack up and organize gear after a 50-kilometer hike and two days with no sleep … cause it’s the army). They will be released to spend Shabbat with family, and then return Sunday for an immediate deployment of 30 days in Gaza. It doesn’t get any more real than this.
It’s hard to describe the mix of pride, fear, patriotism and unity that I’ve experienced in the last 24 hours. May God watch over our boys, help them be successful in their missions, and bring them home safe. Am Yisrael Chai.
Lisa Geller is a longtime resident of Highland Park, wife of Chanania Benklifa, and mom to Coby Cunningham (26), Ilana Cunningham (23), Avi Cunningham (21) and Adina Cunningham (15). All four children now live in Israel, and Adina attends an Israeli high school through the Naale program for American students. When she is not flying back and forth to see her kids in Israel, Lisa works as a technology project manager in the financial services industry.
