“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”—Jenna Evans Welch
Four years ago today, I began the journey of a lifetime. Waking up on that bleak, cloudy day where the only definite in my near or distant future was the promised afternoon rain, I felt the fear of a new beginning. Drafting into the IDF after finishing a degree in electrical engineering sounded like a great idea on paper: How better to give back to the country I had gained so much from in my six and a half years of living there? Not to mention gaining some useful, if slightly underpaid, work experience in my field along the way. What could possibly go wrong? But as I woke up on December 6, 2017, left for the Tel HaShomer base, and entered the IDF with only a draft order and a week’s worth of clothing in my bag, all I felt was alone and confused in the new alternate universe I had just joined.
After drafting, it became pretty clear that my new employer had no intention of putting me in a job that would make use of the skills I had spent four years of college learning. One of my friends in basic training, when I shared my dilemma with him, likened the military bureaucracy to quicksand: “The more you try to fight it, the harder it pushes you down.”
Yet, after five months of training for a less relevant, albeit very important, role, I was transferred to the position that I’ve been in since, one where I feel like I truly gave from myself in the best possible way, and gained tremendously from it.
In my time in the army I learned how to take a narrow field, learn about it on an extremely deep level, and explain it to people from all different types of backgrounds. I learned how to assert myself when necessary, so that even the most hardened army officers would listen to me when I had something important to tell them. I’ve been on call 24/7 to be ready to help with impending emergencies, carried a phone on me for over 200 Shabbatot and chagim, and even spent most of the previous Shavuot on base during Operation Guardian of the Walls.
At the same time I managed to have a really fun time. I had the opportunity to see new parts of Israel that I had never been to before, from the Galil to the Negev desert, learned that there is no bad time or place for a barbecue (even during guard duty in the shetach at 3 a.m.), and that one can actually effectively protect a yishuv or tiyul despite having never successfully passed shooting practice. But, most importantly, I connected with some amazing people and made new friends for life, whom I look forward to staying in touch with no matter where life takes us.
Over the past four years I’ve moved twice, started and finished a master’s degree, traveled to chu”l multiple times, survived a pandemic (בלי עין הרע), had a sister get married, had two nieces join my family (different sister). I also lost a grandparent, and many other “ups” and “downs” in the process, all during the 48 months in uniform.
And today, on a beautiful sunny morning so different from that rainy and bleak day so long ago, after four long, intense, yet enjoyable and meaningful years, it’s over.
So, what did I learn from this journey?
Over the last week we’ve celebrated Chanukah, a chag that commemorates both an unlikely military victory and an even more unlikely renewal of one canister of oil over the course of eight days as the Beit Hamikdash was re-inaugurated. These events, while both of decidedly different natures, have two common denominators: Jewish stubborn determination and Divine intervention. In the merit of these two efforts, the Jewish people were saved from Greek rule and merited to return to full religious observance and avodah in the Beit Hamikdash.
As anyone who has served in the IDF can attest, the Israeli military (and many other bureaucracies in Israel) can oftentimes be the same: The winning combination of stubborn determination and Divine inspiration help it protect our beautiful country and keep us safe every day. Yet, dealing with the army, whether from within or outside, can often be frustrating. From Chanukah we can learn that when bureaucracy and rigidity threaten to hinder personal, professional or national interests, the only answer is to fight back with the same stubborn determination and hope that God will intervene.
As I finish my service, take off the uniform for the last time, and prepare to return to a reality where I need to pay for transportation, feed myself and pick out different outfits every morning, I feel extremely proud of the four years I’ve given for the State of Israel. I thank each and every one of the amazing people who made my service so meaningful and enjoyable! I feel very comfortable and safe going to sleep at night knowing that you’re protecting me and my family and friends, and look forward to staying in touch in the coming months and years.
While my IDF journey ends today, the adventure that is my life in Israel is only beginning.
“Today I close the door to the past, open the door to the future, take a deep breath, step on through, and start a new chapter of my life.” —Unknown
Teaneck native Tzvi Silver was The Jewish Link’s first Israel-based staff reporter, who paused his reporting for us when he entered the IDF. We look forward to future reports.
